Something Sad, Bad I Must Say About Nigeria

Edward Femi Adeti, Author

I have held this for long enough. It is time I let it out. A time will come when Nigerian children will travel round the world, begging every other nation for apologies for what their forebears did. A time will come when the Nigeria Government, at a sinking point, will tour the rest of the world not to solicit any fund, but to refund all that its citizens unduly took from innocent preys abroad.

Nigerians always are proud of their country even when their government literally directs them to a spilling dustbin for supper, and I am not an exception a full-blooded Yoruba man that I am. But the arrogant posture, the widespread subculture of corruption and the I-am-better-than-you attitude of some in or out of Nigeria that give a general impression that this is what that country genetically is all about are highly disagreeable and must begin to engage the attention of those who really care about the once-ailing and now-hopeless image of that country.

The song Funmi Adams sang, “Nigeria My Beloved Country”, which inspired us in public primary schools in Lagos whipped up tears of patriotism until I involuntarily had to leave that country at twenty-two. At my departure, I told close childhood friends Nigeria’s depth of corruption had become too much to contain by me. Before then, with a little travelling bag strapped diagonally across my chest, I had convinced my father, an apostolic pastor, that Nigeria had become the spiritual Egypt the Bible talked about or the “Vanity Fair” in John Bunyan’s Pilgrim’s Progress, one of the prized books he bought for the family. I told him I must leave. Sandwiched on my knees between my father and mother, we had a parting prayer.

Then, I left the log cabin where I began life, almost wiping a tear… not looking back at my parents who emotionally might be looking at the footprints their timid son was leaving behind on the sandy compound. I knew where I was heading but as to how long I would stay there I did not. I just needed a break, and anything worthwhile could fill that vacuum, until it would elapse like any ordinary break time. I was confident about restoration even if I lost everything.

I was not afraid of the unknown ahead of me. My father was a poor pastor and I believed the kindness I saw my parents show towards strangers would follow me. And it followed me. I have met 'Simons the Cyrenians' who bore the 'cross' for me when I lost my last breath. I also have met 'Alexanders the coppersmiths' who did me a great deal of harm. On a waiting shelf lie those accounts for an open biography somewhere later. I have endured near-death adventures untold to anyone yet except my Ghanaian-born wife. And I will not be surprised or worried if the impact absorbed from those adventures suddenly truncates my life later. Adventures will toughen you, but there are harms you may never recover from.

The point: many innocent young Nigerians have left that country against their will because of failed promises of protection and pride received at a tender age. And it has become normal because everyone looks away. This explains why Chinua Achebe had issues with the Nigerian Government at his time and why Wole Soyinka once described the Nigerian youths as "wasted geniuses".

Agreed, some gross disappointments equally are huge blessings. But how does one reconcile this with the quantum of a red-eyed black panther of corruption that corrodes faster than an undiluted tetraoxosulphate can match? In any case, I hope to return someday when I graduate from the spiritual wilderness allotted to me. It will be a one-word campaign: ENOUGH! I know exactly what to do if I return. And it is only a question of time before I rejoin that root that has been seeping discordant resin within and nourishing distasteful fruits abroad.

I rarely will come out loud like this on any social media network. I consulted my conscience before I did so. This is my worry about some countrymen whose volume of internal and international misconduct (arrogance and corruption) is shamefully as loud as if Nigeria is the only country on the continent. This is my ache, and my attack on arrogance should not be misconstrued for a raid on anyone’s freedom of confident speech or right of refusal to be inferior to anyone anywhere. Arrogance is arrogance and there cannot be any other word that fits so well except conceit― a God-damned quality responsible for the unenviable embers most-talented Lucifer finds himself today.

In all humility, I sincerely do not invite approval comments or otherwise on this note. That is not the essence of coming up with this concern. Every country has its own out-flowing internal issues to deal with. Let everyone bury their dead. Here I speak as an extremely sad Nigerian who believes Nigeria is not for Nigerians alone but for all of humanity. My homage to the good citizens of Nigeria home and abroad. Nigeria, my beloved country, bury your own dead… think of your children.