The various reactions
on Independence Day yesterday can only compel us to ask one question: what does
Nigeria mean to you or me? I had written a piece on Friday, September 30, in
which I advised that Nigerians should embrace hope rather than despair and that
in the long run, it shall be well with our country. 
I also recommended as part of the celebration, Timi
Dakolo’s soul-inspiring and masterly song, “Great Nation”, hoping that special
attention will be paid to its touching lyrics. 
But the reactions to my interventions
did no more than further reinforce the fact that too many Nigerians are angry
with Nigeria as an entity, they are angry with how Nigeria has been run and is
being run, they are frustrated with the current situation in the country, and
what the future holds for the entire country. 
      
The last time Nigerians found themselves at this kind of crossroads was under
the rule of General Sani Abacha. The issue was not just about General Abacha,
however, but how military rule had led the country into a ditch, and the people
wanted something different. The disappointment today is of a different form of
extraction: some people raised the people’s hopes beyond the stratosphere: they
assured them that the Nirvana that they wanted was at the door; they told them
that to run Nigeria is easy, it was just that the wrong people were in
charge.  And now, all promises seem illusionary, the scales are falling
off the people’s eyes and the people are transferring their anger unto every
situation. The change agents who promised a revolution are in disarray, they
are caught up in an atomistic war among themselves.  The
we-are-better-than-them-we-will-save-Nigeria crowd has suddenly discovered that
there is a great gulf between election time propaganda and the real assignment
of governance. Even the partisan clerics among them no longer know what to tell
the congregation. They cannot afford to say that the God they worship speaks
with two tongues.
     Their nemesis
and their hubris lie in a certain lack of understanding or a certain omission,
or perhaps oversight. I maintain my earlier position that Nigeria is a complex
entity and that it is not a country made for any Messiah, now or in the far
future. Nowhere in the world is the age of the messiah real. There is no such
thing. Every country must face its own destiny. It is the duty of leaders to
manage that destiny, transform it and not destroy it. Nigeria’s destiny is to
be great and successful. We only need to find the right combination of people.
Note the emphasis on combination. We will never find the right combination if
we remain divided by ethnicity, ego and religion.
       It
is partly the reason, therefore, why every Nigerian moving forward must ask the
question: what does Nigerian mean to me? Too many compatriots relate to this
country as an abstraction. When they hear Nigeria, the only thing they think of
is their ethnic root. They don’t even have any attachment to the Nigerian
passport. I bet we would all be shocked the day we take a census of all the
Nigerians who have foreign passports and the millions who are still on the
queue, begging to give up on this country. Nigeria is thus, regrettably today,
a provider of important talents for other countries in all fields of human
endeavour in the same manner in which Ireland sold out its talents at the turn
of the 19th Century.
      We have
reached a point and that is perhaps one of the gains of democracy since May
2015, whereby every Nigerian, at home and abroad must ask himself or herself,
that simple question: what does Nigeria mean to me? Does it mean incumbent
government and its politics? Mere identity? A passport? Home? Association with
my parents and old friends and so a homeland linked by blood? Or is Nigeria
nothing, no more than a space for opportunities, or just an option, or at best,
mere geography crashing into DNA? I guess no other country has such divided and
scattered emotional brains like Nigeria. When the people decide individually
and collectively that they want a country, may be that is when we can begin to
talk of Nigeria. What does Nigeria mean to you? I urge you to answer this
question as part of the national reflection process after our country’s 56th Independence Anniversary. I’ll start with what I believe.
     I am a
grateful Nigerian citizen. I went to primary school in this country at a time
when teachers were very proud to be teachers. Our teachers worshipped our
parents and vice versa. If your parent ever told you your teacher complained
about you, you would feel like running away. Today, Nigerian parents go to
schools and beat up teachers, and the teachers ask for bribe. The idea of being in loco parentis has since being
destroyed.  Something has gone terribly wrong. Quality education is now a
matter of cash and class. It actually seems if you don’t have a lot of money,
your children cannot make it in in life. In this same country, the children of
ordinary people were the ones who had all the hopes because the system
supported the poor. My father, God bless his soul, could afford to send me to
any level, I was the first son of a second wife married at old age, and he was
prepared for the choice he made, but the Nigerian system was behind him too. I
pay tribute to those teachers who poured their lives into mine, who did
everything to mould me, those selfless soldiers who gave what they had so that
other people’s children could grow. That is what Nigeria means to me, Those
indeed are the true Nigerians. What am I trying to say? I am saying that in
those days in this country, you could make brave choices and the country will
stand by you because it was a country that worked. We need to make Nigeria work
again. 
       As
a university student, our mattresses were made. There was regular water flow in
the hostels. “Bush meats” were accorded due respect, and the “campus meats”
were not badly treated either, and only the most brilliant boys were inducted
into the campus cults. Everything was respectable. Food was cheap. Life was
easy. Our libraries were well stocked. Lagos to Calabar by road was N15, by air
it was N40 and for three months, we survived on N42, 500. I was a Federal
Government University Merit Scholar. That means I went to university free of
charge. My father insisted he would pay and he didn’t need government to send
me to school. I used his money to buy books. That was how I started building a
personal library that can only compete with that other one owned by the
bibliophile called Odia Ofeimun. When I got to the University of Ibadan, I also
ended up as a University Scholar. My father again insisted on paying his bills,
but Nigeria insisted on training me. I consider myself a product of Nigeria. I
got to wherever with my father and Nigeria competing to pay the bills. My
father felt a sense of responsibility. Nigeria had a system that looked out of
for people like me.. Once upon a time in this country, Nigeria looked out for
people’s children and invested in them. I am one of those products. Standing on
Nigeria’s investments, I have gone to so many other places in the world. 
Nigeria has given me a foundation that I could never imagine. And by some sheer
accident of fate, I ended up as Presidential Spokesman at Nigeria’s highest
level.  Nigeria means a lot to me. I cannot give up on this country. No
matter the travails, I believe that this country means a lot to so many of us:
search your own history.  
       I
have children who despite the difficulties are also not willing to throw away
their Nigerian passports. Nigeria remains the home of my children and their
great-grand children to come. Nigeria is the country that has given me all the
opportunities I have had. It is the landscape of my joys and sorrows. It is
your landscape too. What Nigeria means to me is a country that needs to be
rescued from many years of abuse, from the locusts that eat things up, and the
agents of the devil who turn a good country into a land of regrets. I am
consoled by the realization that the people who love this country and who want
to see it work and make progress possible are in the majority. Nigeria is a
country not only of great potentials but also of great achievements.  Let
us take certain things seriously beyond satire and parody, and resolve that we
all have a duty to make this country great.
     I believe in
this country because every opportunity that I have enjoyed came my way because
in the long run, I am a Nigerian. The world is a competitive place. It is also
a rational world. You can have the best CV in the world in any circumstance,
but the people in charge of opportunities don’t just look at brilliance and
genius, they consider so many other factors. What Nigeria means to me is a
country that has given me many opportunities and opened many doors for me. I
will confront those who want this country destroyed for false reasons and if
ever given the opportunity, I will run this country and place it on the right
path. 
    By
now, you know where I stand. I am a grateful citizen who wants to rescue this
country. My choice is a reformed and improved Nigeria that serves the interest
of all citizens and mankind. What is your exact choice in this matter as we
celebrate this 56th Independence
Anniversary weekend? What does Nigeria mean to you?

 
 
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