Nigeria go survive
Africa go survive
My people go survive o
Nigeria go survive…
This song of the music legend Veno Marioghae, ‘Nigeria Go Survive’ has been on my mind in recent times. The optimism in her voice as she sang that song stirs something in the soul. Called an electro-boogie anthem recorded in 1985, but 39 years later, like ‘Alice in Wonderland’, I wonder! I wonder: how long shall we wait for Nigeria to survive? I mean, how long is this survival period? Are the survival strategies out-dated, or do we need a survival template upgrade?
I daily observe how suffering clings to life’s very path: hearts are bleeding in pain, hunger is biting like worms clinging to the walls of our stomachs; even the most efficient worm expeller can’t expunge.
So, the cliché, “There is light at the end of the tunnel,” I hear you, but has anybody asked if the world would come to an end if we met light half way in the tunnel? Must we get to the end of the tunnel before we see light? Oh, sorry, I missed that. Even if you manage to get to the end of the tunnel, you wouldn’t know if you were out or not … No light! Nigeria go survive!
Oh! Giant of Africa, your land—yes, your green land—must remain so. It must. I see how you have been soiled and taken for granted. I see children whose innocent laughter has been silenced by pain and hunger in their gaze, wondering why their parents aren’t doing what they used to. Parents are trying their best to be strong for their children through the daily hurdles they have to encounter and to seek solace in hope. But before their eyes, light has grown dim, and their hollow eyes are grim. Even the take-home pay can no longer take them home.
Foreign Exchange, I see how you are rising yeast-free. Every Taju, Dumebi, and Haruna is becoming an unopposed prophet. Why not? Isn’t it easy to “prophesy” that by this time tomorrow, a dollar to naira would be $1=N2,200? Why not? When by the time you open your fridge and close it back, the rate has changed. Even the speed of light doesn’t come close.
Japa, should I go there? The number of Nigerians leaving the country is worrisome. The brain drain is draining the land. People are ‘Japaing’ by any means, some at the detriment of their existence. They have signed to fate, “If I perish, I perish.”
Interestingly, this ache isn’t peculiar to only some people; it is a collective pain. Ahmed’s boss asked him to buy him a crate of eggs at the nearest supermarket; he got back, and ‘oga’ (the boss), as Ahmed calls him, requested change (the remaining money). Shocked at this development he wasn’t used to, he asked his boss, “Oga, wetin happen?” His boss answered without thinking twice: “Nigeria happened.”
“From pain, we shall birth purpose, and hopefully, the pang of hunger will not linger.”
Sule’s boss now asks for receipts for fuel bought. He trusted him so much that he previously didn’t see the need to ask. Ada is checked by Madam when she returns from the market with “incomplete” items. How dare Ada? She must have hidden a part of the money somewhere. The items are either small or incomplete. So she thought, until madam went shopping herself. Let’s just say Ada still has her job. She didn’t lie after all; Nigeria happened to us all.
Don’t get me wrong, I am optimistic about my dear country. I am a woman of faith, a lover of God, the whole nine, but one of the fruits of the HolySpirit as I know it, is LONG SUFFERING, not SUFFERING LONG. Selah!
The part of Veno’s song that says “Andrew no checkout o, stay and build your country, Nigeria go survive,” apparently, Andrew caught the “Japa” wave long before we did; only that, perhaps, he would have had to pay through his nose to get his passport in the Nigeria of today. Oh! I take that back; there is ease in that terrain now, I hear, right? Let somebody shout hallelujah!! It is no longer “Nigeria go survive.” Perhaps, We ‘mooove’ to “Nigerians don survive!”
After all said and done, seriously speaking, let us not be weary but be hopeful. For in our hearts, a candle burns—a flickering flame that softly yearns.
We must be intentional about staying united—you and I, hand in hand—to heal the wounds across the land. With open hearts, let’s strive to ignite a glimmer of hope, a ray of light.
From pain, we shall birth purpose, and hopefully, the pang of hunger will not linger. Liberation we will bring, to rewrite the tale on suffering’s wings. Together, we’ll rise, defy despair, and build a world where love will repair. Nigeria go survive!
