Even by the standards of African tyrants, Abacha was special. Taking power in 1993, he modeled his rule on Mobutu, the Congolese dictator who inspired the notion of kleptocracy (the rule by thieves). His hoarding of astronomical sums into overseas accounts was so shameless as to disgust even his predecessor General Ibrahim Babangida - 'Nigeria's Idi Amin.' Had he not succumbed to a heart attack in the arms of two Indian prostitutes on June 8, 1998, Abacha might still have been plundering the world's 9th most populous country, which harbors 1/7 of Africa's population. Happily, however, this 'Coup from Heaven' - surely among the more fortunate effects of Viagra - led to the election of Olusegun Obasanjo, a civil war hero and born-again Christian with a past as a fairly benevolent dictator.

A cautious optimism has now taken hold in a country ruled by generals for nearly two-thirds of the 45 years since independence. Time and time again, military dictatorships have seized power by coup, quashed all opposition, pillaged the Treasury, squandered the spoils on absurd largesse, and placated Western critics by signing harsh austerity agreements. Typically starting out by pledging economic reform and routing of corruption, they would proceed to do the opposite. They also tended to legitimate themselves by what has been called a 'Permanent Transition' to democratic civilian rule.

Obasanjo, who took office in May 1999, earned his trust 20 years earlier by actually stepping aside for such rule. Even more uniquely, he has made fighting corruption a top priority in deed as well as word. Yet the task is daunting; for the behavior is a way of life from village to National Assembly in a nation which last year was rated as the third most corrupt in the world.

As The Telegraph notes, the petroleum curse is key. The oil revenue flowing since the mid-70s has transformed Nigeria, and mostly for the worse. Lonely Planet's Africa on a Shoestring, 8th edition, sums it up:

Outside of said hellholes, agriculture has been neglected and in some areas - like the Ogoni Territory in the Niger Delta, championing which got Ken Saro-Wiwa hanged in 1995 - ruined by pollution. This further boosts urbanization as people seek to the cities for a taste of the wealth so eagerly displayed by the nouveaux riches. A get-rich-quick mentality has entrenched itself at the expense of traditional values. No doubt this helps explain Nigeria's most dubious claim to fame: the '419 Scam' industry responsible for much of the money transfers to the region.

Society, in brief, has become a hierarchy defined by access to material riches. If anywhere near the top, you steal because you can. That, of course, impoverishes the majority near the bottom, who steal because they must - and because, if the government can do it, why not they?

Related to this dog-eats-dog culture is an ethos whereby it is not merely foolish but positively immoral for an official not to grease his pockets and - in theory, anyway - let it trickle down to kith and kin. There is a culture of tolerance for embezzlement by members of own ethnicity. When, as is usual, mere crumbs reach the hometown folks, it is bad form to criticize 'one's own' who have 'made good': Doing so would amount to cleaning ethnic linen in public.

A weak sense of national identity feeds the problem. With its 133 million citizens and somewhere between 250 and 400 ethnic groups, Nigeria is Africa's answer to Indonesia and India, but much less of a nation-state than either. In part this is because the Brits, who in 1914 established the country by cobbling together some of their possessions, governed by divide-and-rule. They also favored the Christian south over the predominantly Muslim north, leaving a legacy of resentment in the latter. Most of the military juntas were rooted in the northern Hausa-Fulani people and imposed distributive schemes designed to benefit the north. Adding to the quandary, the oil is located in the south.

This is the landscape which President Obasanjo, reelected in a probably fraudulent 2003 poll, must negotiate if serious about increasing transparency. So far things look moderately well: Guarded by a new constitution, a civil society and a vibrant public sphere have begun to blossom. Considerable media attention is awarded claims of shoddy deals, of which the National Assembly is widely perceived to have plenty.

Such openness about what used to be matters of course is itself quite a step ahead. Meanwhile, however, high oil prices are floating the economy, filling the coffers with more wealth to be distributed one way or another. And that may become Obasanjo's greatest challenge. Lao Tze councels in the Dao De Jing that an Emperor, to discourage theft, should ensure that there is nothing to steal. The advice may appear somewhat radical, but in light of the Nigerian experience it does make a certain sense.

The link between oil and corruption is, however, almost universal. Remarked Peter Eigen, the Chairman of Transparency International, upon the release of its 2004 report:

Extreme though Nigeria may be, it is not unique.