Epistle of Me (Nigerian): How did we get here?
I am a Nigerian with a name called Nigerian, born with the best values and trained in the best plans, to be refined and revered. I am a symbol of pride and a lion in Africa that’s who I am, yes so I thought when I was taken through the brochure of my great heritage. I am the very three ethnic groups; I am WAZOBIA three different worlds and language made into one Nigeria.
I am a time keeper, lover of peace and advocate of truth; I am revered by the world and honoured by my counterparts. I am just at the west of my continent and near the sea; I am beautiful and lovely to the eyes of all men.
But enough of this biography let’s talk about the real me now. I am always sad when I am asked are you Nigerian? What do I say? What do I reply with? If I say yes then I get words like corruption, fraud, terrorism, unemployment, thief, poverty, third world country, lazy youths and bad governments. If I say no, I am who I am! Am I still the very beautiful mother I was? Am I still the revered country I was? Can I still boost of all I use to now? Am I still the Nigeria I was?
I cry when I sit and reflect on me, when I could step out at night and no fear, days when food were all over and in abundance, times when peace was in all the order, periods when my rain was non-acidic. Now when we speak about me all I hear is “in those days when….”can’t we bring back those days? Can’t we use same tactics? What shall I tell the generations to come after me? How shall I narrate my failure? How shall I make them see that I was once beautiful and now I am a land of almost torment? How did we get to this point? What wrong turn did we go through? How can we get this mud stain off? Nigeria my Nigeria!! Let’s think about it.