Why Nigerians Unite Against the Petty Thief but Not the Corrupt Politician

Why Nigerians Unite Against the Petty Thief but Not the Corrupt Politician post thumbnail image

In the ever bustling markets of Nigeria, it’s not uncommon to witness swift and brutal mob justice meted out to a suspected thief. A young man who stole a loaf of bread or a bunch of plantains might be chased down, beaten senseless or in horrifying cases, subjected to jungle justice, a tyre around the neck, doused in petrol and set ablaze.

The mob acts with one voice, with no trial, no evidence, just sheer rage and perceived justice.

Yet, just a few miles away, a well-known politician, one who has looted billions from the national treasury, funds meant for hospitals, schools, roads, and jobs, is protected by police escorts, celebrated at social functions and even re-elected by the same people who suffer under his corruption.

This contradiction reveals a deep and troubling paradox in the Nigerian psyche: why is it easier to rally against the poor man stealing food than to hold powerful thieves accountable?

The Psychology of Proximity and Power

The petty thief is visible.

He is one of us, living among us, and his crime is direct.

A stolen phone, missing yams or a handbag snatched in broad daylight triggers a visceral response. People feel violated and in a country where the justice system is slow and often corrupt, taking the law into their own hands feels like the only path to justice.

Meanwhile, the politician is distant. His crimes are abstract, buried in bureaucratic language, “misappropriation of funds,” “budget padding” or “contract inflation.”

The consequences are delayed: bad roads, unpaid salaries, hospitals without medicine.

There’s no face to the suffering, just a slow bleed of national potential.

The politician is protected not only by security forces but also by our collective apathy, fear and often, admiration for wealth, regardless of its source.

Poverty, Frustration, and Misplaced Anger

Nigeria’s high unemployment and poverty levels mean millions of citizens live in desperation.

The sight of someone stealing a meal can trigger not just anger, but a projection of frustrations: “Why should he eat while I suffer?”

The thief becomes a scapegoat, the symbol of disorder.

Corrupt leaders, however, are often viewed through the lens of aspiration.

Many Nigerians believe, “If I were in his shoes, I’d do the same.”

The system seems so rigged, so corrupt from top to bottom, that citizens begin to admire those who “successfully” cheat it.

It becomes a survival game, not a moral issue.

Fear and Powerlessness

There is also fear, confronting a petty thief is low-risk; confronting a powerful politician can mean arrest, threats or worse. Civil society groups, journalists and whistleblowers have faced persecution for calling out corruption.

The risk of standing up to the system is immense and many Nigerians simply don’t believe that collective action can change anything.

They’ve seen too many protests ignored, too many investigations go nowhere.

The Role of Culture and Media

Culturally, respect for elders, titles and wealth runs deep. A politician, even a corrupt one, is often addressed as “Honourable,” “Chief” or “Excellency.”

This reverence creates a psychological barrier, one does not question the powerful, especially if they’re generous at weddings, church events, or during election season.

The media, too, often soft-pedals political crime.

Sensational headlines about minor thefts dominate, while stories of billion-naira scandals are reported with euphemisms and technical jargon. Corruption is normalized; petty crime is demonized.

What Must Change

To reverse this paradox, Nigeria must confront both systemic injustice and the cultural mindsets that enable it. That means:

  • Justice reform to end impunity for the rich and protect the rights of the poor.
  • Civic education to teach citizens the cost of corruption and their power in a democracy.
  • Media accountability to expose, not excuse, grand theft by those in power.
  • Community reflection on values: Who are our real enemies, the starving man with a stolen banana, or the billionaire who stole our future?

The flames that burn a petty thief should instead ignite a fire in our collective conscience. True justice does not fear the powerful and brutalize the weak. Until Nigerians begin to direct their unity, outrage, and action toward the true architects of their suffering, the paradox will persist, and the nation will continue to burn, not from the fire on a market street, but from the silent inferno of systemic betrayal.

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