In a sane society, forgery is a moral and criminal offense that ends careers, attracts jail terms, and erases public trust. But in Nigeria, it is fast becoming a badge of privilege, a scandal that only lasts until the next headline drops. When the powerful are caught falsifying credentials, all it takes is a resignation letter and a few days of silence for everything to go away. From Kemi Adeosun’s NYSC certificate scandal to Uche Nnaji’s alleged forged credentials, Nigerians have watched a pattern emerge, the rich and connected simply walk away, unpunished, while the system shrugs in complicity.
This dangerous culture of selective justice has turned the Department of State Services (DSS) into what many now call the “Department of Selective Security.” The same institution that can trace a citizen’s phone conversation or storm a journalist’s home at midnight suddenly loses its investigative might when a government official is accused of forgery, corruption, or perjury. The law that barks at the poor becomes silent when it faces the powerful.
In a country where millions of young people struggle to get legitimate qualifications, staying up late to read, paying exorbitant fees, and sitting through endless strikes, watching top officials ascend to power on forged or questionable certificates is not only depressing, it is morally bankrupt. It tells a generation that honesty is for the foolish and integrity is for the poor. What message do we send to the unemployed graduate who spent years earning a degree if those in power can forge theirs and still be celebrated?
The Adeosun case was a turning point. A high-profile finance minister was exposed for possessing a forged NYSC exemption certificate, a clear breach of law. Yet, what followed was a quiet resignation and an even quieter return to comfort. No prosecution, no accountability, no deterrent. The system simply adjusted itself to accommodate her wrongdoing. Since then, the “Adeosun template” has become a model for political damage control in Nigeria, commit a crime, issue a resignation, disappear for a while, and reemerge into elite society as though nothing happened.
Now comes the Uche Nnaji saga, another alleged certificate forgery scandal, and again, the same silence looms. The DSS, which can arrest protesters for demanding accountability, seems conveniently unbothered when the culprit has a political title. It raises the question: does our security apparatus exist to serve justice or to protect the interests of the privileged?
Forgery is not a minor issue. It cuts to the core of credibility, governance, and national integrity. When leaders ascend to office on falsehood, how can they be expected to uphold truth? When the law tolerates deceit at the top, how can it demand honesty at the bottom? It is this hypocrisy that has normalized corruption in every sector, from fake certificates in public service to inflated contracts and forged invoices in government agencies.
Sadly, Nigerians have become numb to these scandals. A new forgery story breaks, social media trends for a day, and the storm passes. There are no consequences, no resignations with dignity, no institutional reforms. Instead, the public gradually adjusts to a dangerous new normal, one where forgery, bribery, and impunity are no longer crimes but career strategies.
The selective justice system in Nigeria has made a mockery of law enforcement. The DSS, EFCC, ICPC, and even the police often act like tools in the hands of those they are meant to check. If you are poor, you face the full wrath of the law. If you are rich, the law bends in apology. Our constitution has been reduced to a set of negotiable rules, firm for the powerless, flexible for the privileged.
But the greatest tragedy is the erosion of public morality. When the youth see the corrupt rewarded and the honest punished, when they see criminals promoted instead of prosecuted, they lose faith in the system. This is why forgery no longer shocks us; it only confirms what we already know, that in Nigeria, truth is optional and justice is selective.
Yet, we cannot continue like this. A nation that rewards deceit cannot progress. The National Assembly must strengthen laws against forgery and enforce mandatory prosecution, irrespective of status. The DSS and law enforcement agencies must stop operating like political vigilantes and return to their constitutional duties. The judiciary must resist the pressure of selective application of justice. And Nigerians themselves must stop normalizing the abnormal.
Well, I believe that until we build a system where crime is punished, not negotiated, Nigeria will remain a society where morality depends on who you are, not what you do. Forgery should end careers, not redefine them. Accountability must not be a privilege; it must be a standard.
Until then, the DSS will remain the Department of Selective Security, and Nigeria will continue its tragic performance, a nation where corruption walks free, and justice sits in chains.
