In Nigeria, a land teeming with diverse cultures, beliefs, and values, conversations about morality can feel like walking a tightrope. We are a nation of paradoxes—rooted in tradition but dazzled by modernity, outspoken yet deeply secretive. So, when the question arises, “Is it worse to cheat or to lie about it?” it’s not just a philosophical puzzle but a reflection of how we navigate relationships, integrity, and societal expectations.
Let’s unpack this intriguing dilemma.
Cheating: The Betrayal of Trust
Cheating—whether it’s in academics, sports, business, or relationships—is universally condemned. But what makes it so detestable? At its core, cheating is a betrayal of trust. In relationships, for instance, it’s not merely about the act of infidelity but the erosion of an implicit contract: to honor, respect, and remain loyal to one another.
In our society, where marriages are celebrated with pomp and pageantry, and families are tightly knit, the stigma attached to cheating is severe. Among the Yoruba, there’s a saying: Ìgbékéè lémì màá fi ibi sé èyàwò (“Trust is like a thread; once broken, it’s hard to repair”).
Yet, paradoxically, cheating happens often. According to a 2020 survey conducted by Infidelity Recovery Institute, Nigeria ranks among the top countries where infidelity is prevalent. Why? Perhaps it’s because, in our patriarchal structure, men are often excused or even encouraged to have multiple partners. Women, on the other hand, face harsher scrutiny, making the conversation around cheating lopsided and complex.
Cheating cuts deep because it undermines our need for safety and belonging. It’s a wound that scars, leaving victims questioning their self-worth and the authenticity of their relationships.
Lying: The Silent Killer
Now, what about lying? While cheating is an act, lying is the cover-up. It’s the carefully constructed alibi, the deliberate omission of the truth. On the surface, lying may seem like the lesser evil. After all, a lie is just words, right? Wrong. Lying compounds the original sin.
When someone lies about cheating, they’re not just betraying their partner’s trust; they’re reinforcing a narrative that deceives. This can feel like a double blow to the person on the receiving end. Not only were they wronged, but they were also denied the dignity of knowing the truth.
In Igbo culture, there’s a proverb: Eziokwu bu ndu (“Truth is life”). Lies corrode relationships, making reconciliation almost impossible. When a cheater lies, they’re essentially saying, “My comfort matters more than your reality.” Over time, this erodes any chance of rebuilding trust.
The Psychological Weight
To cheat or to lie about it: which is worse? The answer lies in understanding the psychological weight of both actions.
Cheating is often impulsive, driven by momentary desires or unmet needs. It’s selfish, yes, but it’s also human. We’re flawed beings, and sometimes we make choices that prioritize gratification over principle.
Lying, however, requires premeditation. It’s a conscious decision to withhold the truth, to manipulate someone’s perception of reality. It’s not just a betrayal of trust but an assault on the foundation of any relationship: communication.
Dr. Adebayo Lawal, a psychologist based in Lagos, explains, “While cheating can be attributed to lapses in judgment, lying speaks to character. It suggests a willingness to maintain a facade at all costs, which can be more damaging in the long run.”
The Nigerian Perspective
In Nigeria, where communal living is still the norm, the ripple effects of cheating and lying extend beyond the individuals involved. Families, friends, and even entire communities weigh in on these matters. Cheating might elicit shame, but lying often evokes deeper anger.
Consider the case of politicians. Nigerians have grown accustomed to public figures who lie about their qualifications, achievements, and intentions. When these lies are exposed, the public’s outrage is palpable. We’d rather forgive a politician who admits to a scandal than one who denies it despite glaring evidence.
This same principle applies to personal relationships. The truth, no matter how painful, offers closure. Lies, on the other hand, leave wounds festering.
Can One Justify Either?
Some argue that lying about cheating can be an act of mercy. “What they don’t know won’t hurt them,” the saying goes. But is ignorance really bliss? Imagine finding out years later that your partner lied about an affair. Wouldn’t that revelation sting more than the original betrayal?
Others contend that honesty isn’t always the best policy. What if telling the truth destroys a family or derails someone’s mental health? These are tough questions, and the answers aren’t black and white.
A Tale of Two Choices
Let’s paint two scenarios.
- Scenario A: Tunde cheats on his girlfriend, Amaka. Wracked with guilt, he confesses, apologizes, and takes steps to rebuild their trust. It’s a rocky road, but they eventually heal.
- Scenario B: Tunde cheats but lies when confronted. Amaka senses something is off and eventually discovers the truth from a third party. The betrayal is compounded, and their relationship ends in bitterness.
Which Tunde would you respect more? For most people, the answer is clear: the one who told the truth.
The Verdict
So, is it worse to cheat or to lie about it? It’s a bit like asking whether it’s worse to fall or to refuse to get back up. Cheating is the fall—a grave mistake. Lying is the refusal to get up—a choice that deepens the wound.
Neither is ideal, but lying is arguably worse because it denies the possibility of redemption. It’s a refusal to own up, to take responsibility, and to face the consequences of one’s actions. In a society like ours, where truth is a currency in short supply, choosing honesty can be revolutionary.
Final Thoughts
The next time you’re faced with a moral dilemma, remember this: mistakes are inevitable, but integrity is a choice. Whether in love, business, or politics, the truth always matters. Cheating may hurt, but lying destroys. As Nigerians, we pride ourselves on resilience, community, and faith. Let’s extend those values to our personal lives, choosing truth even when it’s hard.
After all, as the saying goes, Oro buruku ti gbo, to dara ju iro rere lo (“A bad truth is better than a good lie”).
By Boluwatife Oshadiya
