A conversation with Julia
where each Christian looks after the Muslim, and vice versa, where all are interested in the country’s development recognising that Nigeria’s prosperity benefits each individual. Imagine a Nigeria whose citizens have been re-sensitized to value hard work, where opportunism is not glorified where the rule of law counts, and each thief, no matter his or […]
where each Christian looks after the Muslim, and vice versa, where all are interested in the country’s development recognising that Nigeria’s prosperity benefits each individual. Imagine a Nigeria whose citizens have been re-sensitized to value hard work, where opportunism is not glorified where the rule of law counts, and each thief, no matter his or her name, status or closeness to the president, is jailed.
Is that an elusive dream? That was the question I put to Julia, a plump but cute owner of a local tavern in Gwarimpa, Abuja. Julia thinks it is possible to fix Nigeria but with a proviso. “Nigerian can be fixed,” she said, “if people desist from laying all the blame at the doorstep of the president. There are worse people who destroy this country.”
“The Nigeria I would love to see, I believe, is achievable,” she began. “For me, the great thing about it is that we don’t need social programmes like SURE-P or a million dollars to fix our country. I believe there are small, practical steps each person can take for us to collectively improve Nigeria. But we must start with changing our mindset, acknowledging there is work to be done and that each person has a role to play. There needs to be a willingness to address the issues; there ought to be a determination towards creating lasting change which benefits us all. And yes, change will not be immediate, but in time we are guaranteed a return on investment to create a ‘new’ Nigeria,” she stated.
Let’s start with what it means to be a proud Nigerian. A great culture starts with a stated vision and a mission. In a few sentences, these words guide a company’s values and provide it with standards, a rallying cry and purpose. That purpose, in turn, ought to influence every decision made. When prominently displayed and treated as more than mere words in a frame and when portrayed consistently in leaders’ actions, good mission statements can be a continuous guide. I think, and Julia agreed with me, that our beautifully crafted national pledge serves this purpose. It articulates values and guidelines for our behavioural convictions as Nigerians. We should serve Nigeria with all our strength, uphold her honour and glory. But the problem is, for many of us, those words have no real meaning. We have not internalised them so we can’t realise their promises. If we had the principles entrenched in our consciousness, they would manifest in our lives. But we don’t.
Although she is Igbo, Julia lived most of her life in Kano before moving to Abuja in search of a job and indeed the illusive greener pasture. A graduate of Government and Public Administration, she looked hungrily at the Foreign Ministry where she thought she could serve Nigeria best. In Abuja, she filed an application and was called to an interview where two people each would be picked from all the states of the federation. But that was subject to the ratification of the Federal Civil service Commission. To Julia’s delight, the commissioner representing the three states in her geo-political region happened also to be her dad’s best man when he married her mother. Match made in heaven you might think.
Julia walked up to the Federal Commissioner, intimated him on her mission and he promised to help when her matter comes up for deliberation. In order not to disappoint, she worked hard to complement her luck with a superlative performance. As the interview day drew nearer, she contacted her father’s friend who by now had started dreaming of a steamy session with Julia. ”I was disgusted but kept my cool,” she said.
Julia continued: “on inter-view day, I found that I was more than prepared for the questions because I got all my answers right. One of the six commissioners on the panel even openly rebuked the other candidates for not preparing as much as I did because we went in in groups. My confidence grew. I knew I had put my right foot forward.”
But Julia was shattered when the results were relea-sed. None of the girls on the list of candidates got the job. Some two girls that I had never seen were employed and they confessed they had neither sat for the aptitude test nor attended any interviews; “they spoke with their womanhood.”
That is the problem with Nigeria. A country’s value system underpins its culture. While a vision articulates purpose, values serve to set guidelines for acceptable behaviour.
“I am not sure where the blame should lie but definitely not on President Jonathan’s desk. One finger never kills a louse. If my father’s best friend would want to crawl under my skirt, then there is a problem in this country that goes beyond where the buck stops,” Julia laments.
There is no doubt that Nigerians have a deep-seated love for their country. Our vision, I am sure, is for a better Nigeria, no matter where in the world we find ourselves. So what are the values that guided that old man’s behaviour? More importantly, what values are we bringing to the table? When we do this assessment we begin to scratch the surface.
Let us all, in our individual spheres of influence resolve to invest in Nigeria. Not judging, or cursing or berating, but working to uplift all. All it takes is self-esteem. My hope is that we will all realise the simple things we can do or improve on to make a big difference. One step at a time we can rebuild our Nigeria.