Nigerians all over the world took a time off today to celebrate their country’s 56th anniversary of independence from the British on Saturday, Oct. 1. They held various events to celebrate their nation. Consequently, President Muhammadu Buhari attended a special prayer for Nigeria at the National Mosque, Abuja on Friday, September 30 where he worshipped with the Senate president, Bukola Saraki.
When I was younger Nigerian Independence Day was kind of a big deal.
My friends and I would paint our faces, don our flags and head down to Stratford Rex (or wherever the big Independence Day party was) and dance the night away in celebration.
What exactly we were celebrating was somewhat abstract. None of us had lived in Nigeria or had a particularly detailed knowledge of Nigerian history. It didn’t matter though, we all felt a sense of pride. We embraced the fuzzy ideal of our founding fathers kicking against ‘the man,’ throwing off the shackles of the ill that was colonialism and marching confidently into a bright future.
In contrast my first Independence Day in Nigeria was muted. To my surprise (I was much more naïve back then), no one was really in the mood to celebrate. Celebrate what? I remember one of my friends asking, How far we haven’t come since 1960?
It was difficult to argue with that.
Even more surprising are some of the arguments I’ve heard since moving here, seemingly in favour of the colonialists. Saying that British left too early, and had they stayed longer things would be better as Nigeria wasn’t prepared for Independence. I was shocked, but it’s a telling indicator of just how bad things have become.
Independent Nigeria was supposed to rise. It was supposed to be the leading country on the continent. It was supposed to be great. I wonder how it must have felt to experience October 1st 1960. The excitement, the hope, the belief that anything was possible and that the brightest days of the country lay ahead. I wonder what’s on the minds of those who experienced that first Independence Day, today. The country that was once full of promise is in disarray on almost every front; sectarian violence, disunity, poverty, economic crisis, the list goes on. We should ask ourselves, is there anything to celebrate?
For some people, there is. One of the most endearing qualities about Nigerian people is our capacity to believe, the capacity to hope that one day things will change for the better. Those celebrating will be lauding the enduring resilience of Nigerian people, the country’s potential for greatness, the belief that ‘one day we will get there.’
This capacity for hope is as good as it is terrible. This idealism keeps us stunted, prevents us from asking the right questions, and most importantly thinking critically. This lofty idea that ‘we will get there’ isn’t rooted in reality. Get where? What does ‘there’ look like? What steps (not speeches) are being made to ensure this happens? Is there a tangible or clear plan that ensures in 50 years’ time we are not still complaining about the same old thing? Hope is a good thing, a necessary thing, but without tangible action it is useless. Development and progress aren’t borne from wishes.
There is the argument that Nigeria is still young and has yet to redefine its post-colonial identity. The name ‘Nigeria’ was given and there are many systems in place today that are simply leftovers of the colonial era. In a lot of ways we are working within a system that was not built by us or with us or our best interests in mind. So how can we expect it to work for us? It raises the question, what exactly are we free from?
Yesterday I again asked some friends their thoughts about Independence Day, there were various answers but one that struck out the most was this: ‘What is freedom without responsibility?’
♦ Culled from the Nigerian Guardian
Nigeria’s president promised Saturday to drive hunger out of Africa’s most populous nation but made no mention of a conflict-driven famine threatening to kill tens of thousands of children in northeast Nigeria.
The United Nations has warned that 75,000 children could die of starvation in a year if speedy action isn’t taken in northeast Nigeria, where underfunded aid agencies say 4.4 million people need food and 65,000 are living in famine-like conditions amid an Islamic insurgency by Boko Haram extremists.
Children with matchstick limbs and protruding ribs already are dying but a regional official for Nigeria’s National Emergency Management Agency, Muhammad Kanar, denied Friday that the region had even one case of malnutrition. He spoke after the U.N. Children’s Fund doubled its funding appeal to $115 million, calling it one of the world’s worst humanitarian crises.
Nigerian President Muhammadu Buhari made no reference Saturday to the food emergency in a speech marking the West African nation’s 56th anniversary of independence from British colonizers.
Instead, he painted a rosy picture of military successes against Nigeria’s homegrown extremists in the northeast, repeating that Boko Haram “was defeated” by December 2015.
“Now, residents in Borno, Yobe and Adamawa States … go about their daily business in relative safety,” he claimed. “Commuters can travel between cities, towns and villages without fear.”
Aid workers and residents of Borno, the worst-hit state and birthplace of Boko Haram, say they fear to venture out of Maiduguri, the biggest city in the northeast, for fear of attack. As a result, Doctors Without Borders said people in newly liberated towns are “entirely reliant on outside aid that does not reach them.”
Famine and malnutrition are among many emergencies hitting Nigeria, a nation that has fallen into recession this year and lost its position as Africa’s biggest oil producer as militant attacks in the south slashed petroleum production. Nigeria also is beset by separatists in the southeast, an ever-deadlier conflict in the Middle Belt pitting mainly Muslim nomadic herders against Christian farmers, and mounting crime including a slew of kidnappings for ransom.
The latest victim, the wife of Central Bank of Nigeria Gov. Godwin Emefiele, was rescued by security forces Friday night within 24 hours of being abducted by gunmen, the bank said Saturday. Some Nigerian families have bankrupted themselves to pay ransoms and complain that police did nothing to help.
Amnesty International this week accused Buhari’s government of trying to muzzle dissent by arresting and intimidating journalists and protesters. The London-based rights group cited examples of police violently blocking peaceful protesters, including activists demanding the government rescue more than 200 Chibok schoolgirls kidnapped by Boko Haram in 2014.
The Bring Back Our Girls Movement, marking the girls’ 900th day in captivity Friday, reminded Buhari of his words last year that “we cannot claim to have defeated Boko Haram without rescuing the Chibok girls and all other innocent persons held hostage.”
The father of one of the kidnapped girls was among the civilians killed in a Boko Haram attack on a village near Chibok last week, bringing the number of parents who have died since the mass abduction to 23.
In his speech Saturday, Buhari did not even refer to the kidnapped girls.
Instead, he promised big infrastructure and agricultural projects that “will revive the economy, restore the value of the naira (currency) and drive hunger from our land.”
By Chika Oduah
Abuja, Nigeria – The lights are off and a few hundred people sit in the darkness of an auditorium facing a glowing stage. The Nigerian poet, Dike Chukwumerije recites a series of poems describing Nigeria’s tumultuous history.
Chukwumerije’s poems convey nostalgia and a longing for the Nigeria he experienced in his childhood. They illustrate a sense of loss in indigenous, cultural pride, a sense that Nigeria – which at 180 million, is Africa’s most populous nation, has lost its direction on the road to nation-building since its independence from the United Kingdom on October 1, 1960.
He laments the rise of religious extremism and the destruction of Nigeria’s natural environment in places like the oil-rich Niger Delta region where the excavation of crude oil and spillages have left the mangrove swamps in a perpetual state of degradation.
“Bring back the trees, bring back the river, bring back the clean and peaceful delta.
Bring back the night, the full-mooned night and the stories we told by candlelight …
Who brought us to this place of tears … before the proof of faith was riches?
Bring back Islam before jihadists, before the proof of faith was murder.
Bring back our love for one another.
When neighbours checked on each other’s children not plotted how to kidnap them …
No matter how fast your internet is, you can’t replace this heritage …
Bring back that old morality that drew its pride from who we were and not from what we wore.
Bring back the days of heroes past …
How did it ever come to this?
***
The event took place in the Nigerian capital of Abuja on the eve on Nigeria’s 56 years of independence.
Today, on Nigeria’s independence day, Nigerians reflect on what this day means to them.
(The interview responses have been edited for clarity and length)
Nigeria’s independence means a lot to me.
I’m 56 years old. Nigeria is a little bit older than I am, but it means that I am part of a country that is the biggest and the greatest black African country, the number one country for Africans and blacks in the world.
Nigeria is here for eternity.
I believe Nigeria will work. All of us, we just have to put our efforts into making this country great.
I believe that Nigeria is a country of the future. We still do have a lot of work; in particular, we need to find a sort of healthy avenue through which we can resolve our tensions. These things we are facing now, these challenges are temporary, and I believe it is a matter of time.
With this number of people, 180 million and still growing, with this massive energy and resources, with this resolve that we are not going to be left back or behind or out, I have no doubt the future is big for our country.
I am proud of it. And I love my country. I love Nigeria.
I grew up with the slogan that Nigeria is or was the ‘Giant of Africa’. I’m 58 years old now, and we are looking back, and we are seeing that we have mismanaged almost everything.
Today, we can’t talk about Nigeria being the ‘Giant of Africa’ for any reason other than for negatives.
We are the ‘giant’ of a lot of negatives which is epitomised by what has happened to the Chibok girls.
We have failed ourselves as a nation… which is sad because every day you look at the potentials of this country, the human resources, the natural resources and you know within you that we can do a lot better than this.
The fight for the Chibok girls is a fight for the soul of Nigeria.
When I was growing up, this was not the Nigeria I had envisaged … I had imagined a country where all the divisiveness would have long been forgotten, all the hurts would have been healed, and we would have been working with the shared purpose of building one country.
We would not be manipulated by the political elite in the country, but that is exactly what is going on … You see a Nigerian that has a lot of potential, and when he or she goes out of this country, they blossom.
The same Nigerian finds it difficult to blossom in his own country, and it’s not fair that Nigerians have to go outside this country to be successful.
It hurts to see Nigeria as if it is a walking graveyard. It’s in a graveyard where you see things wasting away.
![Mercy Abang [Chika Oduah/Al Jazeera]v](https://www.guardiannewsusa.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/10/0f343da83eb44f88bc7e842dcd08cf0e_18.jpg)
I was born at a time when the current president, Muhammadu Buhari, was the military head of state. I’m 31 years old. It was just an era when my dad always reminded me that from that point downwards, you can trace where the mess of Nigeria began.
There was a time we actually had a nation that was near greatness. What we have now is nothing compared to that. Are we going forward or are we moving backward?
At 56, it looks like the country is not growing. What is it that you gain from being a Nigerian?
You must become a government to yourself. People are buying transformers for themselves. People are fixing their roads. People are managing their security by themselves.
So, I am a government to myself. I get my power. I get my water. I get my everything …
Why are we in a recession? Some people say this is not a recession, it’s a depression. When I hear people say ‘Giant of Africa’, I ask, where is the gross domestic product? I don’t even think we have a middle class.
Do I eat three square meals per day? I don’t; I can’t afford it.
The government should be trying to cut costs, but … we still pay our public servants and politicians some of the biggest salaries around the world.
We’re outsourcing Nigeria to the elite.
Nigeria is 56 years, and we’re not talking about human years. We’re talking about 56 years in the life of a country. China has existed for several millennia. Nigeria is a baby.
We also have some things that are special to us.
We are one of the most heterogeneous societies in the entire world in terms of culture and language, in terms of the coming together of a people – and all of these people are bottled into this relatively tiny space.
It’s going to bring up challenges.
We need to have that conversation about the kind of country we want to have, the kind of federation we want to have, a conversation on the tiers of government …
I’m most definitely proud to be Nigerian, and I don’t say that because I’m supposed to be proud …
If you look at the rest of the world, there is hardly another country that has a such a dark past. So, I’m proud of my country because there is nothing unique about our challenges today.
The reason why I believe Nigeria has a great future is because you only need to look at Nigerians themselves: All around the world, Nigeria has contributed great minds to this world.
Nigeria has done many positive things, like the peacekeeping missions around Africa. Look at how we fought the Ebola crisis. But the international media is obsessed with the negative news.
I’m proud because even if I die today, I am hopeful that someway, somehow, in the future, the beautiful minds we have in this country will come together and agree on how to move this storming nation forward.
I am proud of who we are as a people and where we are going.
![Liyatu Ayuba [Chika Oduah/Al Jazeera]](https://www.guardiannewsusa.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/10/9b0a9b35c0e3480eba7adfaff427adab_18.jpg)
But I’m alive, even though I have many problems, but I still thank God for life.
Nigeria is 56 years old, and we have freedom. But in truth, Nigeria is going backwards.
Some people say Nigeria is going forward, and yes, we want to believe we are going forwards and have faith. But, if you go to northeastern Nigeria where I am from, you will see that Nigeria is not going forward because Boko Haram is still there.
The government didn’t take action against Boko Haram when it first started, and that’s why we find ourselves like this.
My husband, a police officer, died in active service. He was killed by Boko Haram. My son was hurt in a Boko Haram bomb blast, and the government has never come to help us. It was strangers from the UK who came and offered to pay my son’s hospital fees.
One hand cannot build a house. One straw cannot sweep until you join straws to make a broom. But this is not being applied in Nigeria. It is to each their own.
There are more than 2,000 people in this IDP camp and the government has not come to our aid. Instead, they are telling us to leave because they don’t want IDPs in Abuja.
They want us to go back home, but how can we go back to our homes when Boko Haram is still there?
It is only charity groups and some churches who are helping us with food, medications, schooling for our children and clothes and small small things.
But this Nigeria, I can only pray.
![Godwin Amaana [Chika Oduah/Al Jazeera]](https://www.guardiannewsusa.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/10/4abcd9d0c7b74038a0451843de2afe28_18.jpg)
I am 31 and when I was a kid, I know my mother would buy me sandals for just a little money, but now, the cost of everything, even a pair of sandals to wear in your house has tripled.
We used to make products here in Nigeria, like women’s fabrics.
I think all those industries have closed, so Nigeria is going backwards, not forwards.
I am thankful for this taxi job that I have. It’s just a temporary thing, but it helps me save money so I can further my education.
There is no help from the government to go to university. Everybody is on their own. The scholarships go to the children of the rich people who can already afford the tuition. It’s corruption.
I finished secondary school, and I planned to study political science at the university, but I can’t afford it.
The root of Nigeria’s problems are the politicians – senators, the house of representative members, the governors. They are our problem. They don’t care about the poor masses. They can have 20 cars in their convoys … So our problem is the politicians.
With the oil and the many resources that we have, we still see huge problems.
But before I die, I want to see Nigeria with good schools that the poor can send their children to. I want to have light 24 hours a day … better roads.
This is my wish, and I pray it should happen.
♦ Culled from Al Jazeera
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