What do we do with this New Year?

Dear Nigerians,   Upon reflecting on the year 2022, a year that has been like something Iya Basira’s apprentice cook with shaky hands had concocted with patches of salt and pepper and small bits unaffected by the cataclysm, we can agree that this has been a year garnished with the usual assortment of scandals, spectacular […]

Dear Nigerians,

 

Upon reflecting on the year 2022, a year that has been like something Iya Basira’s apprentice cook with shaky hands had concocted with patches of salt and pepper and small bits unaffected by the cataclysm, we can agree that this has been a year garnished with the usual assortment of scandals, spectacular fails, a dash or two of cheering news and well, a lot more of the same. 

I had contemplated signing off my column for the year with a prayer for Nigeria and Nigerians. In the end, I have since come to the conclusion that God is not the problem with Nigeria. Nigerians are. Is it not this same God that is called upon by people in other countries that are faring better than Nigeria?

So I decided to say a prayer for my country in private and speak to my country’s men and women, after all, we are all in this boat together. Some more than others.

First off, if you are reading this, congratulations. Not for reading this, of course (there is no prize for reading my column). But for surviving Nigeria and the many katakata it throws at its people. Don’t get me wrong, Nigeria is not all bad but where you live in most countries, in Nigeria, you survive. This survival is an extreme sport and an essential life skill, one that should be recognised with a special certificate. Regardless, congrats on making it this far. May the odds forever be in your favour.

You see, this year, we saw shege. We are all witnesses to how the country has evolved or devolved. We can write a thesis on the free-fall of the value of the naira or the galloping inflation that has seen commodity prices rising in some instances by as much as 4 or 500 per cent. Maybe galloping is the wrong word to use here because these prices are soaring, zapping, and bolting into the stratosphere. 

This year, we have seen the bubbles of security we enjoy—if enjoy is the right word to use—shrink from the size of a turkey to the size of an agric chicken and then quickly to the size of a free-range chicken and now the size of a quail, or a pigeon or a bulbul. 

We have seen travellers continuously being plucked from the roads or rails by the vultures of terrorism and banditry, as we have seen predators plundering children from their homes, ravaging them and getting away with it. 

This year, we have only been served with insouciance by those who should be sweating over these things and trying to fix them. And because of this indifference, and the near-total calamity that 2022 has been, 2023 is poised to be crucial.

The big elephant in the room is that there is the small matter of the general elections some say is a chance to reset Nigeria.

In February, millions of Nigerians will go out to vote for candidates running for key offices. Much of the conversation this year has been about those elections in 2023. The chatter around the elections could have filled all the oceans of the world with words. But what percentage of this ocean is drinkable? Of all the words hurled, shouted, whispered and muttered, what percentage matters in the long run?

It is rare to see people saying so much yet communicating so little. How many Nigerians can say with any degree of confidence from listening to all the candidates and their mouthpieces how exactly their candidates plan to bring down inflation or tackle insecurity or unemployment? Words, words, everywhere, yet not a few to grasp.

Here we are, going into an election with candidates most Nigerians would not want to see on the ballot paper. A country saddled with candidates, not of the people’s choosing. So many Nigerians have been grasping at straws in the shape of religion, region or tribe to advance one candidate over the other because they must choose.

 Whatever choice we make, the most important on election day and the days following will be how we choose to behave. Either to vote peacefully and responsibly or to set the country afire. Either way, those who will win, will win and those who will be left to lick their wounds and mourn their losses will be those who have always been victims of these occurrences—the average Nigerians.

If you believe strongly in any of the candidates, by all means, go out and cast your vote, go home and recite your Qur’an or read your Bible, if that is your inclination. Or read the wonderful novels of Tj Benson or the delightful poetry of Umar Abubakar Sidi. Or entertain yourself with the music of Ayra Starr or Rema since it seems that one of the few things Nigeria has been thriving at in recent years is our art and culture. Remember, if you allow yourself to be used by any politician for nefarious purposes, it is your choice to be a part of the problem.

I suppose the most important thing to remember is that the elections will come and go. By May 29 winners will take their offices and proceed to do what elected officers in this clime have always done. The other Nigerians will meet themselves at the market—if they didn’t burn down the markets in protesting elections results—and justle to buy overpriced semo and tomatoes. The winners and losers of the elections will invite each other, not you, to their children’s weddings, hug and drink extortionately-priced champagne. And they will still dance to Rema and Ayra Starr.

The year 2023 should be more than an election year. It should be the year the relentless pursuit of personal goals is done with more zeal. If 2022 has taught us anything, it is that your dreams will only remain constructs in your mind unless you pursue them. Whatever that thing is that you want to do, always wanted to do, take a step towards it, focus your energy and resources on it and make something of yourself.

While we will remember this year for its many failings, like the Kaduna train attack, the thousand-and-one attacks on defenceless villages by terrorists, bandits and ‘unknown gunmen’ some insist are not terrorists, or for the Kuje Prison break or the Ekweremadu scandal or that of Aisha Buhari and that university boy or we prefer to focus on the more positive things, like Tobi Amusan’s brilliant run, or the opening of the Second Niger Bridge, the new rail line in Lagos and the personal triumphs in our various lives, it is important to remember the lessons we learned this year. Some of them may be hard and painful, some pleasant and satiating. All of them should build towards a better version of us in the next year.

In that spirit, I bid 2022 farewell and pray for 2023 to be a year of redemption for Nigeria and the resilient Nigerians.