The resilience of Nigerians is a favourite talking point of our politicians. It may well even be a point of pride for us. However, we rarely ask what explains that resilience. Perhaps Nigerians are abnormal; superior or inferior, depending on your position. I do not think so. We are just afraid. That fear has bred resignation. It is the resignation to the expectation that our fears are unbeatable and inescapable that is confused for resilience. Ours, in other words, is the resilience of a man on a sinking ship who takes one last moment to admire the scenery. Enjoy the moment; it will not be there tomorrow might as well be our national motto.
On December 19 2020, at 5:30 p.m. there was an explosion in Lagos. There were no casualties, thankfully. Unlike those that destroyed parts of Baruwa, Alimosho; Ado Soba, Ojo and Ajuwon, Iju-Ishaga. When the next explosion occurs, will we say the same?
It is hard to keep track of all the explosions that have rocked Lagos in 2020. It is certain, however, that they have been several and that their cost in property and lives is priceless. If Boko Haram had claimed responsibility for the explosions, we would see them as acts of terror. That we categorise them as accidents do not make them any less terrifying. Neither does it mean that we ought not to act to prevent them.
Imagine Nigerians in the prime of their life and then, darkness. They either do not regain consciousness, or they do so with massive burns一an accidental spark has reduced promising lives to a permanent burden on their family. What could be more fear-inducing than these interminable ‘accidents’?
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Why, then, are Nigerians not afraid? Perhaps, the simplest answer is that the smartest Nigerians had a normal reaction: they fled the country. Those of us still here are like cattle headed to the abattoir. We are mooing as the butcher approaches.
That still leaves many other questions. When we see the fate of others, why do we not curl up in fright and howl to the skies? Why are we not pleading for the nightmare to end? Why are we not acting, as our ancestors did, to banish our fears, as they did to the night and their predators? Why, in other words, is it, that if you subtract the explosions, mass poverty and high levels of violent crime, Nigerians seem awfully normal. And, Nigerians do not seem frightened, in the slightest. The most popular answer would no doubt be that Nigerians are resilient.
We have made a virtue of our resignation disguised as resilience. And for as long as we do, we will not do the right thing: confront our fears.
There are, I think, two things worth knowing about fear.
The first is that its sensation is due to its strangeness. We fear the unknown. Think of two lions, one prowling the savannah and the other, safely behind the cage in a zoo. It is normal to fear the unrestrained lion because of its potential for an unknown action. In contrast, we know that the cage protects us from the second lion. And we are not afraid.
The second thing about our fears is that inasmuch as they have a physical manifestation, they also have a rational explanation. And, anything that we can explain; we can solve. Today, we treat smallpox with vaccines. In the past, our ancestors hoped that Sopona, or other local gods of smallpox, would heed their invocations and spare them. The difference between those eras is that today we use rational explanations to understand physical events. We have examined what causes smallpox, and that is why we know how to prevent it.
Which is why we should see these explosions for what they are: failure of management. They are not accidental. We expect that rolled die will yield numbers. We should also expect further explosions when we fail to investigate earlier ones or change how volatile chemicals are transported.
The status-quo is improper if we hope to hold our heads high in the community of nations. Worse, it is dangerous for our present and future. To make a virtue of our ability to survive the worst means that we will do nothing to change it. Indeed, not changing it becomes a good thing. Right up till the moment when it claims us, we will be extolling our toughness.
The path forward is to confront the things that terrify us in Nigeria and then banish them. It is wrong that our country and home is a death trap. We must understand that fear is normal, but that with the right action, it can be beneficial. Fear can be liberating when it drives us to banish its source. To do that we must know what we fear, and we must understand why we fear it. Solving our problems today will leave us better able to enjoy the moment tomorrow.
Emmanuel-Francis Nwaolisa Ogomegbunam is a Nigerian by conviction
