Ayo Salami: The Curse of Justice

Justice exists, like it or not. Never too far away, but mostly around court buildings, though she may play hard to get. Blindfolded, she clutches a scale in one hand. The other wields a sword. She is the archetypal symbol of a mind that brooks no bias, but is most impartial and fair. Whoever dreamt up this world class logo must have imagined a utopia where human beings would cease to be human: that is to say, crass, greedy, deceitful, selfish and conniving. Such a place does not exist; not on this side of reality anyway. Still, in spite of that, Lady Justice represents a tireless search for the ideal, for parity and excellence in human relations. Bottom line, justice is a human creation, or did you ever see two dogs going to some court over a bone or piece of crap? No. The stronger hound takes it. Case closed. So, having agreed that we are dealing with a human invention for dousing contention and enthroning equity in society, it stands to reason that different societies should have different models of what is fair and good for the maintenance of peace in their societies. The jury system of American courts illustrates this point in a fashion. It is no surprise then, that we have a Nigerian model of Lady Justice, decked out as it were in wrapper and head gear to match, though it seems as if her blindfold is always slightly askew. And so we come to the matter of Ayo Salami et al and the naked dance in the market place that has become the twit of the universe. (Yes dear, you may twit about this post too) Strange country we do have, yes. Dirty linen? Tell that to the hogs. Shame is on exile and disgrace has lost its odious value. Why did things get so bad, you might ask and my answer is, because we lost a sense of the sacred, that’s why. How is that? Rewind, please, to a packed courtroom in 1963 and a famous case of treasonable felony against a leading politician of the era and his close aides. Summing up his verdict on the highly contentious and explosive trial, the judge declared with every hint of sadness, “My hands are tied,” before delivering a sentence of ten years on the first defendant. Perhaps, it was a most injudicious admission of regret, an inadvertent and unwarranted admission of guilt for conniving with the powers that were. Well, that is how the teeming supporters of the politician (with the active encouragement of the more educated party stalwarts) saw it. In the heightened partisan climate of the times, this could arguably have been the case. But in the absence of any viable proof, the contrary and innocent meaning of that confession should apply: Sorry, I’m bound by the evidence before me to pronounce you guilty. Left unsaid, but sadly implied, were his potent partisan feelings for the first defendant. But you may tell that to the birds anyway: A lasting damage has been done on society and the judiciary has been the worse for it ever since. This is the lesson of that historical moment. Politics had invaded the scared chambers of justice and knocked its silvery wig to the ground. Of course, it’s ever so easy to castigate politicians for playing politics the only way they know how; like a wrestling or rugby match as opposed to a game of tennis. But only a fool would suppose that politicians dare not attempt to influences judges or that judges would never fall for the bait. In other, saner societies, everyone- journalists, politicians included- is wary of casting unproven aspersions against judicial officers. Now, the restraint in their attacks is not merely for fear of the legal consequences. Rather, everyone understands that the sacred trust of the judiciary is theirs to protect. The judiciary is very like a masquerade. There’s someone behind the fearful mask, not a spirit like children are made to believe. But sensible adults do not tell because, to disrobe the masquerade or reveal the identity of the masquerader is to destroy the very essence of the carnival. Ditto for Lady Justice. The blindfold has little or no meaning if we do not believe that the fair minded lady is not peering through the cloth. True justice rests on the people’s confidence in the judicial process. Take that away and the entire structure collapses like a sandcastle in the rain. For all the wounds that politicians and press thugs have inflicted on the judiciary, it is a great surprise that Nigerians still go to court for justice. Let’s “fast forward” now to the eighties, when a military despot with a Hitlerite moustache, tried to beat everyone into a disciplined line. His draconian rule saw to the swift sentence of a mouthy musician for the effrontery of having foreign currency in his pocket while boarding a plane for an overseas tour. Push the button again. One year later, the judge who administered the legal whiplash on the “currency trafficker”, is on a visit to a hospital where the mouthy musician is also a patient. He asks to commiserate with the sick convict. It’s a kindly Christian gesture to visit the sick, no? “E don’ beg me!” the Wild One reported days afterwards and a band of willing fans and sympathisers desiring to undo the great havoc wrought by the arch dictator with the Hitlerite moustache, play into the crafty hands of his gap-toothed successor. Without much ado, a judge of great standing is dismissed from office for no greater misdemeanor than paying a sick call. Well, if the politicians pulled the silvery wig off the head of a snoozing judiciary, the military men marched routinely on the esteemed head gear in a long parade that lasted fourteen years and more. One of them, a “phantom” coup plotter of those years, has been quoted as saying, “I know of judges who write two opposing judgments and keep both in their drawer for the highest bidder.” What greater insult can the judiciary swallow without blinking? Looking back, it was no surprise when Justices of the Supreme Court suffered the further indignity of bribery allegations en masse against their persons and offices. They were accused of favouring the Federal Military Government and receiving gifts of expensive cars as kickbacks in a case involving another weighty politician, who got a mandate he was never able to claim. Our egungun had lost its face in the market square. Whatever became of that bribery case, can anyone tell? Since then of course, the image of our esteemed judiciary has tumbled downhill, like one yeye ball, as that mouthy musician would love to sing, wey jus’ dey roll for one yeye corner…” As anyone can see, therefore, the Katsina-Alu/ Ayo Salami roforofo fight was a scandal just waiting to happen. The judiciary has been in a proper mess at its topmost chambers. Mouths agape, we watch without much inkling how to intervene as the controversy gets ever more contentious by the day. At stake here, is not just the pride or sensibility of any judicial officer but the sanctity of the hallowed institution along with the trust and confidence of the people. Many questions remain unresolved. Did Salami compromise his office as President of the Court of Appeal? Dis Katsina-Alu arm twist him for failing to toe some injudicious line on the Sokoto State gubernatorial tussle? Having gone to court to clear his name, could Salami function in one breath as a litigant for the same office? How would he relate with members of the Bench with whom he is yet in court? Having had the Senate approve the appointment of an acting President of the Court of Appeal, should not President Jonathan refer his re-instatement back to the Senate for re-approval? What happens to Salami’s case against the Judicial Council and the several litigations surrounding this messy matter? Finally, where do we place the organised rally in protest against his delayed re-instatement, with all the odious implications of that political stunt? Taking all of these in proper perspective, no one can blame President Jonathan for exercising caution on the matter. The president is very likely to seek every legal and political advice he can muster for the right and patriotic decision to take. Meanwhile, it behoves us all, judges, lawyers, journalists and politicians to shield the judiciary from further embarrassment. Like the distraught wives of a polygamist whose husband has run amuck, we must all put aside our petty differences and rally around to retie his loosened loin cloth. Indeed, the shame of our judiciary is the shame of every sensible citizen. The journalists among us must temper their pens and refrain from spreading unfounded and malicious gossip about judicial officers. As stated, we are not suggesting that judicial officers cannot err. Rather, journalists and their editors should put their investigative skills at work to unmask and shame those corrupt officers who are giving the Bench a bad name. Justice Ayo Salami must also weigh his position carefully and consider the role he may play to defuse the controversy generated by his face-off with the retired chief justice of Nigeria. When he was promoted to the Supreme Court, he rejected the offer and called it a “Greek gift.” After the shameful protest in favour of his re-instatement, how may we now label his recall? Poisoned Chalice? Will he feel proud to take back his seat after the appalling mudslinging match of the past year? It should serve him better to resign honourably now and fight to have his name cleared at the courts. The lady wields a double edged sword. It cuts both ways. That is the curse of justice. Like every fair lady, we may chase her and never catch her: to our disappointment. Take heart, Sir, and help save the institution to which you have given your most.

SHE CAME, WAS TAXED…SHE TRIUMPHED

“Let’s give unto Ifueko… a rousing ovation!” A pervading calmness describes her overt spirit. This, from sources close to her eight-year reign at the Federal Inland Revenue Service (FIRS), confirms the latent weight of that first name: Ifueko- potent avowal by delighted Edo parents of a restful end to the frightful pangs of pregnancy and the desire perhaps for a baby girl. Sole daughter among the five Omoigui children, we can say with benefit of hindsight that she was born with a knack for making the essential difference. The official records celebrate her sparkling academic laurels from primary through secondary school (Queen’s College, Yaba) and thence to the University of Lagos, where she veered from the sciences to accountancy and a career in top flight financial advisory services. Still, there is no indication that she was prepared for that telephone call in May 2004 when finance minister Okonjo-Iweala informed that President Obasanjo had pencilled her for the job of helmswoman at FIRS. The opinion is rife that Obansanjo wanted a respected professional without any known strings to the establishment to drive the tax reforms envisaged by his administration. The parameters for re-tooling and resuscitating the moribund tax regime in Nigeria had been spelt out in 2002 by two study groups from the public and private sectors of the economy. Ifueko Omoigui’s credentials stood her in rather attractive stead as the person most likely to deliver the promised goodies. For all that however, she was treading on new, uncharted grounds that would prove the toughest challenge of her career to date. "The president was thinking about the whole economic reform agenda," she deposed to interviewers in 2009. Without a sustainable revenue base, she argued, “no other developmental plan or objective could be met." Central to this strategic goal is Vision 20: 20: 20, the bold twenty year plan to launch the Nigeria economy to the ranks of the top twenty economies of the world by the year 2020. Looking back, it seems most auspicious that Ifueko Omoigui had led the technical team for Vision 2010, the 1996 brainchild of the Nigeria Economic Summit and first ever attempt to enunciate long term strategic goals for the national economy. That assignment summarized a gnawing national need and showcased her ardent patriotic spirit. This, apart from erudite track records at the accounting firms of Akintola Williams & Co., Arthur Andersen (now Andersen) and Andersen Consulting (now Accenture) – where she garnered loads of valuable experience in audit, tax and various management consulting functions, before going solo with ReStraL Ltd., her own baby consultancy outfit in 1996, was the clincher that got her the presidential nod. Her brief at FIRS: to bring to renewed life and vitality a moribund institution and reclaim its pride of place in the national economy. At her resignation after two terms in April 2012, the Nigerian public went agog with profuse thanks for a job well accomplished. Their loud ovation underscored the daunting challenges of transforming a revenue service hampered by poor funding and even poorer staffing. With the emergence of oil as the topmost revenue earner of the Nigerian economy, taxation took a back coach on the fiscal policy train. The biting economic depression of the eighties and beyond forced policy makers to consider that improved revenues from taxation could cushion the harsher effects of overdependence on oil. The FIRS came to life in 1993 to pursue this noble goal but for reasons already stated, failed to deliver on its mandate. When she took over in May 2004, less than 15% of the staff had any significant training in tax matters and subjects. For over a decade, the revenue service had not organized any training courses for its staff. She had no detailed information on staff resumes and education and lacked the fundamental insight for far reaching reform of the ailing service. Though acquainted with the overbearing control of staff recruitment by the Federal Civil Service Commission, Omoigui Okauru discovered to her dismay that the FIRS rarely investigated and punished allegations of corruption by its staff. Furthermore, delays in budget approvals and allocations hampered efficient planning and execution of programmes aimed at improving revenue collection. Yet another feature of the defective tax system was the incidence of rampant tax evasion and avoidance. Although FIRS generated 700 billion naira revenue in 2003, the newly appointed chief executive reported that about 12 billion naira went down the drain from inefficiencies in the tax collection machinery. Since the FIRS collected each type of tax independently of the rest, many staff of the revenue service specialized only in the collection of a single type of tax. Collectors of value added tax had little knowledge of personal income tax or levies on company profits, etc. "If you wanted to pay withholding tax, you went into an office. If you wanted [value-added tax] you went into another office, if you wanted to pay [corporate] income tax, you went to another office. ... None of them were linked," Omoigui Okaru told reporters. That was less than half the story. The federal system worked at variance with a harmonised tax regime for the entire country. The existence of a Joint Tax Board with the head of the FIRS as chairman and members from the state revenue services had done little to ameliorate the rash of disparate and erratic, muscle flexing policies adopted by the state and local governments. To make matters worse, the FIRS appeared incapable of leading by example. These factors contributed in no small measure to the abnormal rate of avoidance and outright evasion by corporate and individual citizens. Enough of this depressing scenario: how did Ifueke Omoigui Okauru contend with the challenges? By her own admission, she had not known what to expect. "I hadn't the foggiest idea. I had never worked in government." Exhibiting a forthright sense of mission and humility, she rang up Ballama Manu, her immediate predecessor in office. He expressed confidence in her ability to drive the reforms already initiated by the FIRS. She had a unique opportunity, he told her, to midwife a new and more efficient tax regime for the nation. The FIRS reform agenda, encapsulated in the recommendations of a Presidential Study Group and a Private Sector Working Group, provided the launch pad for Omoigui Okauru’s rescue mission. Deploying her varied experiences in team and consensus building, the “farm fresh” chief executive rolled up her shirtsleeves and rallied a team of experienced managers and tax administrators to map out strategies for achieving the stated objectives of the intended reforms. She surveyed the top 60 members of the FIRS management team to identify the strengths and weaknesses and the top three problem areas of the FIRS and their vision for the organization. Working closely and tirelessly, the team identified three platforms to drive home the reforms: the legal- to create an independent revenue service with adequate control over funding and recruitment functions, the institutional - changing tax policy and the administrative -reforming tax management. These actions would go on simultaneously, Omoigui Okauru and her team decided. The task called for a broad based outreach programme to the various arms of government and other significant power groups, including the Ministry of Finance and the Federal Civil Service Commission. Effectively morphing into chief lobbyist and marketing officer, the executive chairman of the FIRS led her senior management team as they went around "just selling the agenda, getting their support, getting their buy-in, seeking their help, which was day after day after day after day." The focus of their presentations was institutional autonomy and financial independence from the Ministry of Finance. The study and working groups had recommended that the FIRS be empowered to keep 4% of non-petroleum tax receipts to fund its operations. The ability to hire and fire its own staff, she argued, would facilitate effective institutional reform and aid the FIRS in finding solutions to the daunting challenges of the prevailing tax regime. For all her diligence in seeking consensus, it was not always easy sailing for Omoigui Okauru. Said Waheed Gbadamosi, assistant director of communications, in an FIRS report: “Not a few loathe her insistence that you explore all angles to an item, seek all the facts, allow people to have their say, before you close on an issue or cut to the bone.” Her initiatives for turning around the FIRS made a good number of people very jumpy. Since the nineteen eighties, the federal and state revenue services had engaged in tax farming, an ancient practice dating back to the Roman Empire in which individuals, otherwise known as “tax consultants”, collect taxes on behalf of the state for a 10-20% cut of the bill. Their use in Nigeria was controversial and confusing, to say the least. Backed by powerful interest groups with stakes in the highly profitable trade, the private tax collectors constituted a stumbling block to the emergence of a new tax administration. Prior to her appointment, the Joint Tax Board tried but failed to enforce legislation proscribing their use. They continued to operate with frightful ease around the country. Even as Omoigui Okauru stepped into office she was swamped with proposals from various consultants. “Nearly one hundred or more,” insider sources at the FIRS headquarters reveal. Her refusal to play ball would lead to an oft heard condemnation-“she no gree chop; she no let others chop.” In time, the jilted consultants would turn to her worst opponents, using their ample financial muscles to sponsor media attacks against her person and office. Undaunted, Omoigui Okauru and the FIRS took their case to the National Assembly with eight bills to amend various aspects of the value- added and corporate income taxes and untie the FIRS from the apron strings of its parent ministry and the Federal Civil Service Commission. The greatest opponents of the bill were the disgruntled tax consultants, who stood to lose their lucrative tax contracts. She argued that, "If I worked with you and not my staff, I would not be building an institution." But the logic did not cut any ice with them. They lobbied legislators to delay the bills, and then unleashed a vicious smear campaign to impugn her integrity and rubbish the reform agenda. It was a “vicious fight” to use her expression, but Omoigui Okauru stood her righteous ground. In 2007, after a long hard struggle in the National Assembly, the legislators passed the FIRS Establishment Act (FIRSEA) and President Obasanjo signed it into law alongside other legislation amending the value-added tax and updating the corporate income tax. In the long haul through the legislature, Omoigui Okauru was disheartened to find that some of those who had supported her efforts in the early days turned coats during the latter rounds. The saving grace was she had taken the trouble to consult widely and extensively beforehand. "What also helped was the fact that we went through those processes ... so at least people could not fault you on not carrying everybody along. But it's no guarantee." The signing into law of FIRSEA marked a turning point in the overall fortunes of FIRS and its chief executive. Though she had kept most of the reform programmes in the cooler for lack of requisite autonomy, she had made progress on many fronts by accessing loans from the World Bank through the Federal Economic Reform and Governance Project. To get around the staffing hurdles and fill the huge gap of personnel required for cost efficient tax administration, Omoigui Okauru had employed consultants and other staff on contractual terms. She also fast tracked an integrated payroll and pension scheme alongside staff development and performance management structures. Still, she could not immediately break into song after President Obasanjo signed the Act into law. The Federal Civil Service Commission petitioned the incoming President Umaru Yar’Adua to challenge the legality of granting FIRS authority to recruit its own staff directly without reference to it. The Commission argued that FIRSEA had robbed it of statutory powers to hire personnel for all federal establishments. Following this complaint, the new president stopped FIRS from embarking on direct recruitment of new staff. Nearly twelve months crawled by, before the attorney general decided in favour of FIRS. The impasse expired but the pressures did not. Legislators, top civil servants and other high ranking individuals swamped Omoigui Okauru with requests to find jobs for their protégés. Many of these persons had supported her during those trying times at the National Assembly. For them, it was payback time. Period. The FIRS increased its pool of talent by employing many finance and accounting graduates and prioritizing the continuous training of staff on defined career path structures. In two years from 2005-2007, more than half the work force acquired various computer skills. Later, as its funding situation improved, the service provided computers and software for its personnel. The staff union feared that these changes would lead to mass retrenchment of less educated employees. To quell their fears, Omoigui Okauru approved a five-year grace period from 2008, for disadvantaged staff to update their CVs. The sum of these developments was an improvement in the general competence of the staff, many of who could now handle more than one type of tax. The practice of separate offices administering separate taxes for each region became glaringly untenable. Omoigui Okauru and her management team embarked on a consolidation exercise to integrate its offices nationwide into one stop shops where taxpayers could pay all their taxes at once instead of going to separate offices to fulfill this civic duty. They introduced new and simplified payment procedures including payment options through the banks that reduced the chances for revenue officers to collude with taxpayers and shortchange the system. Earlier in her tenure, Omoigui Okauru had created a modernization department to focus on strategic planning and jumpstart the automation of tax collection to increase the service’ capacity for monitoring and tracking compliance around the country. Automation would act as a check on corruption and graft, everyone agreed, but was hardly a quick fix. Consequently, the FIRS team developed yet another strategy to register all corporate citizens in the land and track their tax compliance records. Expanding on this issue, Waheed Gbadamosi reports, “Today, a corporate taxpayer can no longer open a file in say Apapa or Ikeja Integrated Tax Office, abandon it after failing to file his returns and pay his tax and lie to the Tax Controller at the Wuse Integrated Tax Office that the company has not done business since it was registered. Just a click, on the mouse, or a tap on your ipad and a second’s search of the FIRS portal will reveal such a corporate tax taxpayer’s status and records. This is courtesy of Project FACT and one of its products: the Taxpayer Identification Number, TIN.” The director of corporate communications avers that “FIRS under Omoigui Okauru has reached a point that even in London or any part of the world, she or any authorised member of top management could ascertain FIRS’s daily collection from all taxes and each category of taxes, know what bank brought in what, ascertain a pattern and advise the minister, the President or whoever needs such information.” In his informed view, a variant of TIN through the Unique-Taxpayer Identification Number, (U-TIN) in the states will give federal and state authorities real time, to the minute and near accurate information about taxpayers, reducing opportunities for tax-avoidance and outright tax evasion. In the works also are the Integrated Tax Administration System (ITAS), and the democratic self-assessment regime. All of these will raise the bar of tax-based revenue collection in Nigeria. Through these developments, Omoigui Okauru walked a gauntlet of misguided critics and naysayers whose rabid attacks helped sharpen her sensitivity to the political dimensions of the so-called Nigerian factor. Omoigui Okauru admits that she had been naïve in some cases. She was just acting professional, she thought. "So I didn't consider the political implications of the decisions I was taking," she said. In deciding to close down some non-performing offices for example, she had neglected to consider the effect on people's jobs and the politics of the outcome. The employment of contract staff before the signing into law of FIRSEA allowed the service to hire staff directly. The move angered some senior management staff, who resented free and easy entry of these outsiders into their treasured domain. Inevitably, among her immediate subordinates were people who felt that the mantle of succession to the chair of chief executive should have fallen instead on them. Omoigui Okauru’s direct answer was to engineer a work ethic built on consensus and team work. It went without saying that checking graft and raising compliance and revenue collection levels would not depend on automation alone. The dedication and diligence of staff were also critical factors and Omoigui Okauru wasted little time in fashioning a code of conduct for her staff. Though they participated actively in drawing up its details, the unions declined when the time came for all staff to sign the code. The code went beyond the scope of civil service regulations, they alleged. It took another three years to get them to accept to abide by the FIRS code of conduct. When she brought the office of the service ombudsman under her direct control, the number of disciplinary cases rose so appreciably that she sought the aid of the State Security Service to monitor activities in the regional offices. The apprehension and dismissal of a few fraudulent staff sent a strong message around that old order had changed for good. Other internal administrative changes to strengthen the service by bringing the operations, legal and tax policy departments together with the criminal investigations and tax audit departments happened well outside the public view to attract any notice. Omoigui Okauru began to expand the FIRS audit and investigations units in 2005, through extensive training of the staff. Upgrading the internal financial systems, she improved collaboration with the Department of Petroleum Resources, to eliminate inconsistencies between the taxes on petroleum profits and actual production data. In 2007, the long awaited audit of the oil and gas sector and all large corporations generated gross revenues in excess of 40 billion naira. The establishment of an Intelligence, Surveillance and Anti-Corruption Division raised the tempo of her war against tax evasion, tax-related fraud and staff misconduct. At the same time, the FIRS rolled out a nationwide image management and public enlightenment blitz to reposition the service as a forward looking federal agency working to protect and promote the best interests of the Nigerian people. Omoigui Okauru unveiled a new logo whose characters projected a cheery and purposeful visage. Infomercials highlighting the civic duty to pay taxes visualised the uses to which government put the taxes paid. A new look communications directorate took the campaign to the people through active participation in social and commercial events like trade fairs, public seminars, town hall meetings and road shows. The feedback from these encounters helped in the draft of a new national tax policy in 2009. Though 2007 recorded a lot of positive developments, it was the year also when Omoigui Okauru faced her stiffest test of character. Before his term expired in May, President Obasanjo had nominated her for a second term in office. Happily, the incoming president seconded his predecessor’s decision and presented her name to the Senate a month later. In 2003, the Senate confirmation came in less than a month. This time, ten months would pass till April 2008. The unhappy tax consultants and their supporters put up a rear guard ambush against her. Petitions flew in from all over seeking to thwart her reappointment. This unsavoury development forced the responsible committee to extend its scrutiny of her performance at FIRS. Presenting the finance committee report to the Senate, the chairman Senate Ahmed Maikarfi reported that quite apart from examining Omoigui Okauru’s professional and academic records, his committee also dealt with numerous petitions against her. He disclosed that some of the allegations violated Senate Rule 41 barring the admission of unsigned petitions. She could have stepped on many toes he noted, but the finance committee found no reason to move against her reappointment. The committee of the whole unanimously endorsed his motion for the confirmation of her appointment. For Omoigui Okauru, this was a vital, even if costly experience: "I had to go to nearly every senator to talk to them. A lot of them said that they didn't know me. This was politics, and I needed to become a politician, you know; they needed to know me." Through these meetings, she was able to present her version of events and disprove much of the accusations and misinformation by her determined adversaries. But the support of the government mattered a great deal. "If I didn't have the support of the president, I wouldn't be sitting here," she admitted several months later to the media. The good sense of the Senate in confirming her reappointment yielded spectacular dividends. It goes without saying that the FIRS and the Nigerian economy would have been the worse for it if the Senate had turned her down. Tax revenue grew from 6.1% in 2005to 8.8% of GDP in 2010. In 2003, FIRS collected 698 billion naira in taxes. In 2004, the figure shot to almost N1.2 trillion. The total for 2008 was N2.9 trillion which dropped to N2.2 trillion in 2009, due to the global slump in oil prices at the end of 2008. Inflation, not withstanding, which peaked at 14% from 8% during the reform period, these figures amounted to significant increases in tax collection. In effect, FIRS was on the track of broadening the revenue base and reducing dependence on the petroleum industry. Non-oil revenues improved every year after the reforms began, rising to N1.74 trillion in 2010 or more than six times the 2003 total of N265 billion. Expert opinions aver that increased non-oil revenue shielded Nigeria from substantial revenue shortfalls when oil prices tumbled sharply from 2008 to 2009. President Goodluck Jonathan maintained the tradition of government support for Omoigui Okauru, who prefers to describe herself as a "change agent" rather than "a tax person." So the FIRS waxed even stronger to the admiration of every Nigerian but with the possible exception of the disgruntled tax consultants of old. "The FIRS you see today is totally different from the FIRS we used to have. It's been set on the path of growth," Abiola Sanni, professor of tax law enthused to researchers from Princeton University in the US. This is Omoigui Okauru’s legacy, which her successors should emulate and improve upon. For the unassuming, soft spoken heroine of this story "To build Nigeria, we need to build institutions, and the revenue service is one such institutions."