Palmwine Papi

There is a rather sinister form of corruption happening at the Jos Museum, and my recent experience left me utterly disappointed. We visited the zoo to see the animals, and what should have been a straightforward transaction turned into something quite revealing. Attendant: Your total payment is ₦1,300. Me: Why? Isn't the entrance fee ₦300 per adult? Attendant: Foreigners pay ₦1,000. Me: Oh, okay. Fair enough. I made the payment. But then something interesting happened. The attendant casually tore out two ₦300 tickets, totalling ₦600, and handed them to us. Me: Hold on. Why am I paying ₦1,300 when you've issued me tickets worth only ₦600? Attendant: Well, the person responsible for issuing receipts to foreigners isn't available. Me: That's not my problem. I want receipts that accurately reflect what I've paid. The attendant appeared confused, perhaps surprised that I was questioning the discrepancy. Me: Since children's tickets cost ₦200 each, tear out five of those and give them to me. That will account for the ₦1,000 paid for the foreign visitor. The attendant frowned but eventually complied. Now, here's what bothers me. This isn't necessarily an isolated incident. Sometimes, attendants collect the full adult entrance fee but issue children's tickets instead. The difference between what you pay and what is officially recorded creates an opportunity for money to disappear into private pockets. Think about the implications. If this happens repeatedly, how much revenue is the museum potentially losing? How much money that should go towards maintaining the facility, caring for the animals, and improving the visitor experience is being diverted? And perhaps most embarrassingly, all of this happened in the presence of a foreign visitor. I was utterly disappointed. Not simply because of the money, but because of what the experience communicates about us as a society. You can only imagine the impression such an encounter leaves on someone visiting Nigeria. Corruption isn't always about politicians stealing billions. Sometimes, it's an attendant collecting ₦1,300 and issuing receipts worth ₦600. These seemingly insignificant acts of dishonesty, repeated across thousands of public institutions, are part of the larger problem we keep complaining about. The management of the Jos Museum needs to pay closer attention to its ticketing and revenue collection processes. Every payment should be properly accounted for, and every visitor should receive a receipt reflecting the actual amount paid. We cannot keep demanding accountability at the highest levels of government while normalising dishonesty in the smallest corners of our public institutions.