Forensic audit: Vindicating the accused

When my wife broke the news to me that Sanusi Lamido Sanusi, then governor of the Central Bank of Nigeria (CBN), had alleged in a letter to President Goodluck Jonathan that $49.8 billion of Nigeria’s unremitted oil revenue was missing, suggesting that the money had been stolen, I did not hesitate in telling her that it was not true. She then asked why I would say so and I told her the amount was too large to be stealable. Then I added, on a lighter note, that if such an amount hits any account in any bank as stolen money, it would trigger an earthquake that cannot be measured on the Richter scale. I reiterated this incredulity as a guest of Focus Nigeria, the current affairs programme broadcast by the African Independent Television (AIT). So, I was one of those sceptical – in fact dismissive – of Sanusi’s allegation from the onset.

To put in perspective my scepticism that the amount in question could be stolen: Cable News Network (CNN) broadcast a news bar recently about a Russian hacking ring that has reportedly “stolen up to $1 billion from banks around the world in what would be one of the biggest banking breaches known”. The hackers were discovered to have been active “since at least the end of 2013 and infiltrated more than 100 banks in 30 countries”, stealing not more than $10 million dollars at a time. So, if their theft of $1 billion made global news as unprecedented, then imagine $49.8 billion!

And I was not surprised when, following his subsequent invitation by the Senate to substantiate the allegation, Sanusi revised the figure to $12 billion, and later to $20 billion, creating the impression of an accuser engaged in guesswork or unsure of his facts, if facts they could be called. I wondered how the same amount could be “missing” or “stolen” as three different figures. I could not comprehend it, and that hardened my scepticism as to the credibility of the allegation. The revisions, by the alleger himself, had simply turned his allegation into a farce and made it unworthy of a man of such high standing occupying one of the highest and most sensitive offices in the land.

It was while I contemplated Sanusi’s revisions and their dent on the credibility of his allegation that I got the inspiration to coin the word “sanusise”, a transitive verb with its nominal derivative as “sanusisation” and gerund as “sanusising”. I later wrote an article entitled “The ‘Sanusisation’ of ‘Missing’ Money” in which I canvassed for the new, Nigerian-born word – “sanusise” – to be added to the English dictionary, with its meaning as “to engage in unabashed self-contradiction” or “to unabashedly make self-contradictory claims about the same matter”, as Sanusi had evidently done by revising the figure of the allegedly “missing” or “stolen” money twice, undermining his credibility himself.

The controversy ensuing from the allegation and the serial revision of its figures led the minister of finance and coordinating minister of the economy, Ngozi Okonjo-Iweala, to request for independent forensic auditors to review the accounts of the Nigerian National Petroleum Corporation (NNPC), the main government agency targeted by the allegation, to get to the root of the issue and determine if any money was indeed missing or stolen as alleged. President Jonathan acceded to the request, leading to the engagement of the globally established PricewaterhouseCoopers (PwC) to conduct the forensic audit.

Curiously, even before the auditors would commence work, some persons called for heads to roll over the allegation, as if the punishment of an accused should precede the proof of the allegation against them; as if an allegation should be regarded as the proof of its authenticity. Sobriety was cast to the dogs by those behind such calls. As if goaded by the hysteria of mass prejudice, they never cared to pause and ask for a proof of the allegation before committing themselves to a belief in its validity.

Now the report of the forensic audit by PwC has been published, having been submitted to President Goodluck Jonathan on February 2, 2015. And nothing in the report confirms the allegation of missing or stolen money. Rather, the report indicates, among other things, that the NNPC needs to pay the sum of $1.48 billion into the federation account, a far cry from any of the three figures alleged to have been “missing” or “stolen”. In effect, the report vindicates the accused, as well as those sceptical of the veracity of Sanusi’s allegation.

In his article entitled “Ngozi Okonjo-Iweala and a People’s Narrative” published in The Guardian of January 4, 2015, Kalu Ojah, a professor of Finance at Wits Business School, Johannesburg, gave an insight into what might have transpired with the alleged “missing” or “stolen” money, which apparently applies to  the $1.48 billion. He said “it could be the result of faulty bookkeeping”, which could have been “straightened out with the cooperation of the relevant agencies” – without much ado.

From a semantic perspective, even the $1.48 billion cannot be described as “missing” or “stolen” money. It would be “missing” if it could not be traced, and “stolen” if it were traced to anywhere it was not meant to be, with proof that its transfer involved theft and was not due to some error. None of these scenarios can be deduced from the report of the forensic audit.

However, there is a silver lining in the cloud of Sanusi’s allegation, which I believe even its vindicated victims, including the NNPC, would admit. It is that is has revealed the need for our public institutions to be more thorough in handling matters related to bookkeeping and making remittances, as implicated in the forensic auditors’ discovery of the unreconciled $1.48 billion, whose remittance to the federation account has been directed by the minister of petroleum resources, Diezani Alison-Madueke.

This is one allegation that raised to the unhealthiest pitch our propensity for scandal-mongering as a people. And considering the great damage its validation would have done to our reputation as Nigerians, as citizens of the country with the highest, likely unbeatable, record of single corporate theft in history, I could not have wished that it could be proven true for patriotism’s sake, much as I would like to see those who steal public funds found guilty and punished according to law. And I think its invalidation, as discernible from the forensic audit report, calls for celebration. It is also a cautionary tale on the futility of trying to destroy the reputation of others and bring about their downfall without justification, a practice that we Nigerians have given the pathological name of Pull Down Syndrome.

Ikeogu Oke