Good people, great nation, no moral compass
The late Dora Akunyili was the one who, as Minister of Information, tried to sell the mantra “Good people, great nation!” to the world. She tried hard to change the narrative about Nigeria and her citizens especially in the international community. Unfortunately, that moniker she tried to sell did not stick. Before and after Dora […]
The late Dora Akunyili was the one who, as Minister of Information, tried to sell the mantra “Good people, great nation!” to the world. She tried hard to change the narrative about Nigeria and her citizens especially in the international community. Unfortunately, that moniker she tried to sell did not stick. Before and after Dora Akunyili, other state functionaries have also tried, assisted by many ordinary citizens, to tell us and the rest of the world, that Nigerians are indeed good people and only a few of us go round the world misbehaving, being drug pushers and prostitutes and international fraudsters.
Since Dora left, by every means Nigeria, and Nigerians, have got a lot worse. Is the land still great? Absolutely, without question. I say if we ship out the current inhabitants and import almost any other peoples from any other nations, perhaps in three years, we may not be able to recognise this space, for good. Forget the natural resources buried in the ground and in the parts of the Atlantic Ocean that belong to us as a nation. That one is replete. The land is untroubled. We don’t have too many serious natural disasters apart from the seasonal flooding. Since around 1986, Nigeria has not suffered a drought. It rains in the North and the South. Our dry seasons are not too punishing. The weather is great. I recall picking up an Indian-American lady at the Abuja Airport about 10 years ago. She was amazed when she got into Abuja – not by our roads or buildings, but by how green the land was. She had probably been raised on a diet that depicted Nigeria as a wasteland of nothingness where they couldn’t even plant a tree successfully.
The land is green. The land is also great. Are the people good? Well, maybe not to the extent of thumping our chests about our own ‘goodness’. Nigerians are still largely okay, and just like any other country, it is indeed a tiny proportion of people who are involved in all these shenanigans that have now given this country a terrible name. Ask Abike Dabiri what she is going through in her current role.
Nigeria has the unenviable position of being the most despised, most looked-down-upon, most-suspected, nation on earth, bar none. We are not suspected a lot for being terrorists, even though Boko Haram almost added this to our woes and some are foolishly linking Nigeria with ISWAP (even when ISIS has been snuffed out under Trump). But when it comes to being suspected to be liars, forgers, fraudsters, conmen, drug-pushers, money-launderers, smugglers, yes we are up there in number one position.
We are unfortunately the first nation when it comes to illegal migration. Nigerians, especially the younger population from the South, are all over the place. They seek to leave their country to go ‘hustle’ in another man’s land. Nigerians are often drawn by the blitz and glitz, the allure of neat, nice cities, not caring how those ones achieved what they have based on their own sweat and blood. You can find a Nigerian in any inner village of any country any day. In fact, in places like Dubai, the Nigerian problem has spilled over to other African nations. Many Nigerians now work with Ugandan or Zimbabwean passports. Of late, their woes have been compounded as UAE authorities stopped issuing working visas to Nigerians. The President, Buhari, did not even bat an eyelid or raise a finger for those Nigerians.
Taking the UAE, we have seen how young Nigerians go there, plan and execute robberies of banks or money changers. In Thailand, Malaysia, Indonesia, China, Nigerians are chock full in their jails – accused of, or jailed for drug offences. The warnings that those who are caught will be executed have not abated the flurry of hard drug-peddlers who go there daily. In Ghana, a few days ago, 27 Nigerians were busted in a building at Kasoa in Accra, accused of being internet fraudsters. They were stripped to their pants. Our loss of dignity is directly proportional to our rate of (usually illegal) emigration. In Uganda, Kenya, Cote D’Ivoire, South Africa, and just about everywhere, we have occupied an important chunk of the underground economy with a minority of us integrated in the formal economy, doing good.
Perennial economic and social mismanagement has turned Nigerians to migrant gypsies, viewed with suspicion and disrespected everywhere. I am not sure that the money we make from these sojourns is enough to compensate for the dignity we are hemorrhaging. It is therefore important to search within us, what exactly is our problem. It cannot be poverty. For we seem leaderless, rudderless, and increasingly valueless, even though our politicians are known to be the biggest spenders around the world.
Is it that the average Nigerian has suffered too much? Perhaps. But is this international opprobrium one of the ways of alleviating the trouble we find ourselves in? Will adding scorn to hunger be of any benefit to us as a people? They have suffered in Ghana too, but the last time I was there, I didn’t see what I usually see on the streets of Abuja; total disobedience of law and order, noise from the big man’s sirens in the streets, okadas and keke napeps and local taxis disobeying traffic lights with wanton abandon, small men and big men misbehaving alike as if in a competition to know who is more unruly. I didn’t see that in Zambia, Rwanda, Ethiopia, Cote D’Ivoire, Egypt and any of the African nations I had sojourned. I recall how decorous this long queue of cars was as I watched them from the balcony of my friend’s flat in Kenya. At the very tiny roundabout, they all took their turns. Not here. Everybody is a big man! The politicians lead the way. From senator to local government chairman down to the least councilor, it has become all about hubris, hot air, braggadocio, and the oppression of whomever they could catch.
The latest manifestation of our unwarranted and counterproductive feistiness was seen at the recent launch of the eNaira by CBN. Nigerians were asked to register to be able to use the new innovation. The CBN was still figuring out a couple of things – just like every other country is trying to do. But Nigerians were too ‘woke’ to be calm. They went on the app and started ‘rating’ something that had not found its feet on the ground. Google found so many negative comments it had to pull down the app for a couple of days. Who have we helped by unnecessary wokeness and rascality? We all need to calm down in this country. We seem to be frantically looking for what is not lost, or what we shall easily find if we took a deep breath and engaged our senses.