It is a hard thing to say of one’s own profession, but it must be said: no grand corruption succeeds alone. The launderer needs a lawyer. The looter needs an accountant. The fraudster needs a banker who looks away. Behind every spectacular theft of public funds stands a quiet circle of professionals who made it possible — and deniable.
The privilege our professions enjoy — the confidence clients repose in us, the presumption of good faith — was never meant to be a cloak for crime. The gatekeeper who opens the gate to the thief is not a bystander. He is an accomplice, whatever the engagement letter says.
I call on colleagues at the Bar, in the banks and in the audit firms to treat anti-money-laundering obligations not as bureaucratic irritation but as professional honour. Know your client. Question the source of funds. Refuse the brief that smells of blood.
The day Nigerian professionals close their doors to illicit finance is the day the corrupt run out of places to hide. No law-enforcement agency, however vigorous, can substitute for that. We can only meet the profession at the gate — the choice of which way to swing it belongs to the gatekeepers.