A parent once told me she paid “something small” to get her daughter’s Form One admission letter released. She wasn’t proud of it. “Everyone knows how it works,” she said. “If I refuse, I’m the only fool in the queue.”

That sentence explains more about corruption than most economics papers do.

We often hear that corruption is “in our blood”: Africans are corrupt, Indians are corrupt, and the West is clean. It’s a comfortable story, and it’s wrong. Let’s look at what is actually happening.

Is it culture?

Surveys across Africa and South Asia consistently find that most people say bribery is wrong. Yet many still pay. If corruption were a value, people would defend it. Instead, they apologise for it. That tells us we’re looking at a trap, not a belief…

This the trap, a collective action problem. When most people in a system cheat, the honest person doesn’t gain moral credit. He/she pays the price.. the delayed file, the failed tender, the child who misses the place. Honesty becomes expensive, and people adapt. Over time, “that’s how things work” becomes a social norm, and norms are powerful. We copy what we see. A child who watches a parent slip money to a traffic officer learns a lesson no school assembly can undo. Yet we see matatus do that every day. And you can’t change this because afande has to “return” something to the bosses.

Western corruption vs. ours: different clothes, same hunger

The West is not clean. It is corrupt differently.

In Western countries, corruption is mostly “legal,” “elite”, and “polished”. Corporations fund campaigns and then shape the laws. Officials leave government and join the industries they regulated. Banks gamble with public money and get bailed out. None of this requires an envelope under the table, so it rarely appears in “corruption” rankings.

What the West largely achieved is the end of “petty” corruption. A nurse in Manchester doesn’t ask you for a “small something” to see you. A clerk in Ohio doesn’t hold your licence hostage. A traffic officer wouldn’t take £5 in London to let you go (I wouldn’t talk about passing MoT)

In much of Africa and South Asia, you meet both kinds. There is grand corruption at the top, such as Kenya’s Goldenberg and Anglo Leasing scandals and India’s 2G spectrum and coal allocation cases. And there is petty corruption in the ordinary person’s daily life…the police roadblock, the hospital counter, the land registry.

The deeper difference is what political scientists call “universalism versus particularism”. In universalist systems, the rule applies to everyone: you queue, you wait, you are served. In particularist systems, “who you know” decides the outcome. When the state is unreliable, you do what any rational person does. You turn to relatives, clan, church, and patrons.

When loyalty collides with the law

This is where psychology matters, and where we should be honest about our own culture.

Our societies are rich in a beautiful virtue: obligation to family. When one person “makes it,” relatives expect help with school fees, hospital bills, and funerals. Harambee is a form of this. At its best, it is a safety net where the state has none.

But this loyalty creates a painful conflict for anyone who holds a public office. If you are honest, you disappoint your relatives. If you help your relatives with public resources, you are called corrupt by everyone else. The official who hires his cousin often doesn’t see himself as a thief. He sees himself as a good son, uncle, and neighbour. Psychologists call this moral rationalisation: we protect our self-image by redefining the act. It’s “looking after our own,” not “stealing.”

Western societies went through the same struggle. The difference is that they spent a century building systems that stopped that conflict from being the individual’s burden.

It’s a history, not a destiny

Corruption didn’t fall from the sky. It was built, partly, by history.

Let’s start with India. The English word “loot” comes from Hindi. The East India Company’s officials, the “nabobs,” returned to Britain with fortunes plundered from Bengal. Then, after independence in 1947, India built the “License Raj,” a maze of permits and quotas that made almost every business decision pass through an official’s desk. Where there is a gate, someone sells the key. When India liberalised its economy in 1991, much of that petty corruption eased, but a new problem emerged: the cozy relationships between big business and politicians.

Africa…..Colonial states were built to extract…taxes, labour, cash crops, minerals. The colonial government was something to fear, to avoid, and to outwit, never something to trust. At independence, the new states inherited that machinery. The state was also the biggest employer and the main source of wealth, so whoever captured it captured everything. Politics became a high-stakes, winner-takes-all contest, and ethnic patronage became its currency.

And here’s a fact we rarely mention….Britain and America were once deeply corrupt too…. Eighteenth-century Britain sold public offices and had “rotten boroughs” where a handful of voters elected an MP. America had the Gilded Age and political machines like Tammany Hall. They cleaned up ( or did they?) through deliberate reforms…merit-based civil service exams (Britain’s Northcote-Trevelyan Report in 1854, America’s Pendleton Act in 1883), secret ballots, a free press, and independent courts…. It took decades. Though they are still corrupt but not petty corruption like we have in our “third world and overcrowded India”

Corruption, in other words, is a stage countries pass through, not a character flaw of a race or continent.

So is change possible Danny? You may ask.

If corruption were culture, no African country could escape it. Yet Botswana, Mauritius, and Cape Verde regularly rank among the least corrupt in Africa. Georgia nearly eliminated petty police bribery in just a few years through firm political will. Singapore did it with strong enforcement, good pay for civil servants, and leaders who were punished like everyone else.

Notice what they had in common. None of them waited for people’s hearts to change first. They changed the “incentives”… honesty became safer, and cheating became costly.

What does this means for parents…?

We cannot fix institutions from our kitchens, but we shape the next generation in them.

  1. Don’t normalise it in front of children. When a child watches you bribe, you’ve taught them in thirty seconds what no teacher can untangle in a year.
  2. Teach that fairness is a skill. Children who learn to wait their turn, accept a fair result, and be honest when it costs them become the adults who sit in the offices.
  3. Reward the honest. Praise a child who returns extra change, admits a mistake, or refuses to cheat in an exam.
  4. Stay human. The parent who paid that bribe isn’t a monster. She’s a person stuck in a bad system. Our task is to change the system without losing our compassion.

Corruption is not who we are. It’s what we’ve agreed to tolerate. And what we’ve agreed to, we can un-agree.