The Illusion of Efficiency:
On the Self-Centred Corruption of Government
Under the Guise of Progress and Beneficence
It is a matter of deep disquiet that the modern bureaucrat and so-called public servant, who proclaims to be a “dedicated steward of the people,” has mastered the art of expropriation. Their skill is not in governing for the common good but in extracting public wealth for private gain, all while parading their deeds as selfless service. To observe their actions is to witness an elaborate theater where the people’s interests are invoked as a hollow alibi to justify their plunder. Their rhetoric of dedication, sacrifice, and efficiency dissolves upon scrutiny, revealing an unsettling truth: they are bureaucrats first and civil servants second.
If such men and women are allowed to expropriate for their own enrichment while pretending their actions are for the people, would it not be just for the very community they claim to serve to reclaim those resources for the common good? Indeed, what moral claim do these officials hold when their every justification rings shallow, every explanation a thin veneer concealing their true intentions? They brandish terms such as “progress,” “national security,” and “development,” yet beneath this surface lies an unrelenting pursuit of self-interest, cunningly disguised as duty.
It cannot be denied that some of their projects bear some visible fruit—roads are built, schools erected, hospitals opened—but such outcomes, even when real, beg a deeper question: does their work leave a lasting impact commensurate with the resources spent? Are these tangible developments built out of sincere public service, or are they mere tokens, meant to pacify the people and mask the far larger sums that vanish into private coffers?
Consider, for instance, the audacious request in recent months for “intelligence” and “confidential” funds within the education department. To the uninformed, the justification seems plausible: a tenuous link is drawn between education and national security. But one need not be a cynic to see through the thin reasoning that follows. What business does an education department have with intelligence operations? What “national security threats” lurk within classrooms and libraries to necessitate the allocation of such opaque funds? Upon deeper reflection, the absurdity of the proposition becomes apparent. The true purpose of these funds, though obscured, reveals itself to be far removed from education and closer to the political interests of those in power.
Is it not reasonable to suspect that these confidential funds—so deliberately hidden from public scrutiny—are less about addressing the systemic issues of education and more about serving controversial and self-serving programs? Worse still, they may very well constitute a covert reserve for “election season,” designed not to advance education but to secure political futures through the ignoble act of vote-buying.
The proliferation of “assistance programs” provides further evidence of this rot within the system. These programs, scattered across competing factions and clothed in myriad names, claim to be benevolent in nature. They boast of serving the poor, the needy, the forgotten. Yet upon closer inspection, this so-called beneficence unravels. It is not charity or public service that motivates these acts, but rather the cynical pursuit of political capital. Such programs are tools of manipulation, bought with public funds and delivered not out of compassion but as transactions—votes exchanged for the promise of temporary relief.
One cannot help but ask: do these exorbitant expenditures create a meaningful and enduring impact? Or are they merely another mechanism through which funds are funneled into the private vaults of the bureaucrats, who dress their greed in the language of service? These actions, though cloaked in respectability, reflect the fundamental truth of our time: in the modern government, those who claim to be civil servants often serve themselves first and the people second, if at all.
The tragedy is not only in the theft itself but in its consequences. When funds meant for education, development, and welfare are redirected toward the enrichment of officials, the most vulnerable are made to suffer. The child deprived of quality education, the family left without access to healthcare, the farmer neglected by agricultural reforms—these are the unseen victims of the so-called “efficient government.” The impact of such corruption extends far beyond the visible; it corrodes the very foundation of society and betrays the trust that is essential to governance.
This betrayal is made all the more egregious when one considers the audacity with which it is performed. Officials speak of their integrity and selflessness even as they rob the people blind. They appeal to national interest even as they serve their own. They hold themselves up as paragons of efficiency while operating a system that, by design, enriches the few at the expense of the many.
It is therefore not enough to expose this illusion; the people must reclaim what has been taken from them. If these resources were truly intended for the benefit of the community, then let the community be empowered to ensure their rightful use. Let the concerned folk, who bear the weight of these decisions, expropriate the expropriators—not in the spirit of chaos, but in the spirit of justice. For if government exists to serve the people, then the people must hold it accountable. If funds are to be allocated in the name of progress, then that progress must be real, measurable, and equitable.
Let no public servant be allowed to wield power as if it were their birthright. Let no bureaucrat fill their pockets while speaking of sacrifice. A government cannot pretend to be both efficient and corrupt without forfeiting its legitimacy. The people must demand more than hollow speeches and token gestures. They must demand a government that serves the public good in truth and not merely in name.
For it is not enough that a government acts swiftly or decisively; it must act justly. Efficiency divorced from justice becomes nothing more than tyranny in motion—swifter, yes, but also crueler, more relentless, and more dangerous. The people must see through the façade, reject the illusions of progress, and insist that public resources be used not for the vanity of the powerful, but for the prosperity of the nation. Only then will the true meaning of civil service be restored, and only then can the corruption of governance be replaced by the justice of stewardship.