Today is Nigeria's 64th Independence Day. So, this is a republished one from my archives, originally written in February 2024. Enjoy!
It is extremely difficult to be (consistently) patriotic as a Nigerian. On some days, it’s much easier and we’re able to celebrate huge wins collectively. Other days, our optimism is overcast by reminders of the increasing difficulties the country faces and those which inevitably lie ahead. The inspiration from this piece came at the end of 2023, reflecting on the whirlwind of emotions many Nigerians including myself experienced — a renewed hope during the presidential elections followed by revelations of gross vote tampering; celebrating Hilda Baci’s impressive world record alongside a rapidly plummeting Naira. These experiences are bittersweet, but often easier to navigate with a level of dissonance enabled by the privilege to live in a different country. Sadly, this does not last forever, and returning home means facing the music. Per the Igbo saying, agaracha must [indeed] come back.
Returning home in December is routine for Nigerians such as myself who live abroad. We anticipate seeing our friends residing in other countries at a range of parties and concerts, and seeing our family members during the final week of the year (between Christmas and New Year’s Eve). My most recent visit was quite different, and met with immense dread given the socioeconomic climate and growing anxiety. Although I am fortunate enough to experience a more than comfortable livelihood, it is impossible to turn a blind eye to the declining living standards for the average Nigerian.
For those unfamiliar with Nigeria’s economic and sociopolitical history, it is awfully complex to say the least, and impossible to fully cover in this single piece.
The political landscape is rife with outlandish individuals in/with access to power able to regularly exploit their positions for personal gain. Unscrupulous as these may be, the logic is airtight. Greed may be evil, but it is not illogical.
As a matter of fact, the burden is on us to hold those necessary accountable. Unfortunately, we are often sidetracked by certain distractions, namely ethnic prejudices or religious aphorisms. I bear no grouse with any of the ethnic groups nor the nation’s primary religions, but I remain unfazed by the juxtaposition of growing crises alongside an unnerving optimism fuelled by faith-based aphorisms bordering on naïveté. Although the biblical account of Israel and the promised land is often referenced, God only helps those who help themselves, after all. I believe a good degree of the country’s systemic issues relating to governance would be greatly addressed through established secularism, but perhaps that is a piece for another day.
We have historically found it quite easy to compartmentalise: we bask in the delight of the end-of-year festivities and overlook the colossal obstacles at our forefront. However, for how much longer? Although often used colloquially during payment processing, I believe the question “savings or current?” is especially pertinent given our immediate standing. Are we comfortable relying on our psychological reserves of optimism and wishful thinking? Rather, should we be? Perhaps we do the uncomfortable but necessary task of addressing things currently without sugarcoating. It appears time is running out for the country, its economy, its leaders, and we the citizens.
The Big Mac index was invented by The Economist magazine in 1986 as a lighthearted instrument to gauge the performance of country’s currencies. Similar to the Big Mac Index is the Starbucks Index using the price of a cup of coffee. Both are loosely based on the concept of ‘purchasing power parity’ by Gustav Cassel which equalises the prices of an identical ‘basket of goods’ in different countries. In this case, both indices work as McDonalds and Starbucks operate in roughly 120 countries. Sadly, Nigeria is not one of them. Nonetheless, I believe the principle underscoring this concept can been useful regarding the Nigerian Naira (NGN). In a country with massive economic inequality, it is difficult to find items similar to the Starbucks coffee or McDonalds Big Mac which are consumed across the board. However, I believe shawarma is relatively applicable — as is enjoyed whether sold in Ikoyi or Abule Egba.
Over a year ago, the average price of a modest shawarma (chicken and one sausage, not two) would range between N1,000-N1,500. Imagine my surprise as I returned to a price list beginning at N3,000. Nigeria’s inflation has been higher than the average for African and Sub-Saharan countries for years now with the most recent data suggesting over 26%. In simpler terms, the cost of 2 shawarmas over a year ago is the cost of 1 now. One does not require a formal knowledge of macroeconomics to be afraid panicked.
It doesn’t end there. We are aware that a weaker currency may lead to higher inflation by increasing the cost of imported goods, whereas a stronger currency can help keep import prices lower, potentially limiting inflationary pressures. Ours is unfortunately a case of the former, to the extent whereby the high import prices has led to the mass importation of counterfeit items. Towards the end of the 2023, an exposé revealed the counterfeit versions of numerous products which were being imported, spanning from alcohol and canned foods to over-the-counter medicines and contraceptives. Notably, the collective response to the unraveling of this information was humour-filled commentary. The feeds, timelines and group texts in the days which followed consisted of witty memes and clever wordplay regarding the influx of unsanctioned, potentially harmful items. Once again, yet another opportunity to distract and compartmentalise instead of considering the grave consequences of a situation as it unfolds.
If history is any indication of the future, the path ahead of us seems bleak. As the frequently referenced Einstein saying goes, insanity is doing the same thing repeatedly and expecting a different outcome. Likewise, complicity is doing nothing and expecting a different outcome. How much longer can religious leaders continue the banal messaging of “a God of justice” and “pray for our leaders” in creating false hope for the hundreds of millions of Nigerians anxious about the country’s future? How much longer should citizens remain comfortable teetering back-and-forth between rage-filled dissatisfaction and myopic dissonance at a series of government administrations with a consistent disregard for their wellbeing?
I recognise that no country is perfect. I realise our history riddled with a colonial past has affected our ability to make progress. Yet, a progressive decline on multiple fronts over a decade is a cause for concern, especially as neighbouring countries such as Kenya, Ethiopia and Rwanda are set to surpass our political, economic and social standing. I worry we collectively find ourselves carried away by being the ‘coolest’ nation, and rightfully so, we’re not known as the giants of Africa for nothing. Our global feats across technology, entertainment, science and academia speak for themselves. However, what’s the point in any of these if the country itself worsens?
I do not believe we earned a ‘Detty December’ last year, nor do I believe we deserve one this year and the years to come until we get things back on track. Our unrelenting jollity is admirable, but I believe a brief period of solemnness derived of Shallipopistic crooning may serve us well — both leaders and citizens. The country don cast.
I may be considered pessimistic for my views regarding the nation’s future, but I rather pessimism than a baseless optimism, or even worse: a naïveté fuelled by dissonance.
P.S. This post has been a draft since my last day in Lagos after being hoodwinked by some mischievous LASTMA wardens. I admittedly hesitated as I wondered whether or not such a piece was necessary. I must confess, perhaps this was an attempt on my part to avoid the blend of emotions I feel towards the country and its potentially dismal future.
P.P.S. This changed as I had dinner with a few friends from boarding school two nights ago, as the four of us – two optimists, and two fatalists – engaged in a fervid discussion which has informed this entire piece. We concluded with a $1,000 bet: the country will experience unparalleled growth over the next 8 years. For the first time ever, I bet against my own country; I surely hope to be proven wrong.
Thanks to Iyin Asekun, Debo Adewole, and Deinde Abimbola for reading drafts of this.