I am one of those Nigerians frustrated by how my nation is sliding but I am not one of those that has lost hope. I am an incurable optimist and hope is one of those things that helps us to get out of bed the next day and the next. To lose hope is to die while alive and leave things to those who have no interest in the nation. We need to be the torchbearers, the ones who say, don’t jump the traffic light, the one who says don’t jump the queue, the one who asks questions at an airport, the one who joins others in throwing out bad politicians and the one who speaks up in the face of bad customer service.
Torchbearers in their numbers make a difference. It may seem small but your children inherit it and the thread spreads, people who are honest admire you and imbibe those teachable moments. Indeed, to lose hope is to die.
In the last month or so we have encountered an alleged serial killer whose confessions were as disturbing as they were chilling, then there was the prison house in Kaduna where nearly five hundred people were released from captivity. A place so sick we had people of different ages tumbling out of what was once considered a rehabilitation home in shackles.
The tragedy benumbs me and just when I thought I had seen enough for the month; pregnant teenage girls are released by the police from a baby factory where they are abused and their babies are harvested and sold to desperate parents who are barren. Add this to Wadume, FBI list of Nigerians, story of the sale of babies by Nigerians in other African countries and you wonder if we should not all disembark and flee.
I am not one of those who believes that how to fix Nigeria is by running away and returning in the not too distant future to run for political office. A place you detested so much, you left it to sink. You believed that when you return, those of us you left behind will be dead and buried and you can now proceed to jump in the fray of a nation you did not stay to build, whose cultural ethos you have since forgotten, whose leaking roof never affected you. Runaway citizen, you do not arrive after others have fixed the farm eaten by locusts and are still trying to restore it and claim that you too should have the proceeds of restoration while waiting to jump ship again at the slightest sign that baby locusts are returning. In a conversation on Independence Day with a young Nigerian, whose book, my French teacher has an Igbo accent has just been released, we talked about many things including what it means to be Nigerian. His words were profound when he said I am not one of those wanting to go to Canada. I think I will try to contribute my bit to make a difference.
It was all I could do to hold back the tears. We still have a nation, if we individually and collectively can commit to honesty, hard work, I mean not pretending to work, be corrupt free and actually be kinder to one another. I am heartbroken when I go online and see the vitriol been poured on Nigeria by young people who are upset that Nigeria offered them nothing. Among these complainants are those whose parents benefitted from Nigeria’s many opportunities in the past and gave their kids the opportunity to be better. But these ones even scream louder. Ditch the nation. Hang it upside down. Conversations around and about Nigeria upsets me in many youthful and some not so youthful circles.
I am not pleased with the way things are myself but I continue to strive to do my best wherever I find myself. I am not perfect but I try so you are angry and I am not here to make excuses for many things that are wrong but what is your own contribution to positivity. We complain loudly about how bad Nigeria is but we short-change our customers, break traffic lights and cook the books. Then on Sunday and Friday we donate to churches and mosques and seat in the front pew. Then when we leave, we say Nigeria is a stupid country. You forgot your contribution to the negativity on Thursday, on Friday and on Monday.
When we seat in our religious places, we act like the character in the office doing those horrible things is not us. In church and mosques, we are holy and serene and kind, It’s the most incredible form of split personality that I have ever encountered. As we murmur, and hurt and get angry, let us whisper growth and greatness into Nigeria, let us not condemn our nation by our mouths and by our very behaviour in and outside the country. I have met many foreigners who tell me their first taste of Nigeria before they came was from a Nigerian who tells them don’t bother to go there, it’s just a useless place to go. Guess what? You may have sold out but those you sold us to have no respect for you either. It’s the name of the game.
Like Dipo Adesida, author and brand strategist said, we stay, we build. Add that to we look forward and provide solutions. We spend too much time complaining and not really taking action for those things we complain about. i.e. a dirty neighbourhood, children been raped for baby factory, poor customer service, poor leadership in several spheres. I can go on and on. I told Dipo some of the reasons I will never lose hope in Nigeria. Amala and Gbegiri, my comfort food, community, Nigerian weddings, boli and groundnut, suya, fresh fruits and vegetables daily, pidgin English, quick wit and hilarious moments and the fact that I can knock on my neighbour’s door and I will be rewarded by pounded yam and egusi soup. May sound simplistic but doesn’t happen in Canada. I do not begrudge those who leave but I am not for running away.
We may get angry and be annoyed a lot, but we are Nigerians, we stay we build. And as Dipo rightly added, we don’t give up. Thank you Dipo for holding the candle, for believing in your nation in spite of the terrible things all around us, for making my Independence Day special.
EUGENIA ABU
