By Ojo Deborah
Fellow Nigerians,
It’s that time of the year again when we celebrate freedom and the passion of the martyrs. What they died for may not have been brought to fruition, but we are on that path.
For 66 years, we have remained free and maintained the name Nigeria. We have existed as a land flowing with the bourgeoisie and proletariat, the rich and scrawny beggars. We have in recent times successfully removed the middle class—Classic Twitter trope; I am a Gen Z, like many of you guys. We Nigerians.
Nigeria is home to over 140 million youths, and while they say anywhere no Nigerian can be found is unsafe and unlucrative, we are the giant of Africa in potential. Let’s bring that back now that we have more hands. We have the brains, the music, the culture. Let’s develop our home together.
Yes, we earn from those who leave and sign treaties so other lands can respect us. There is no place like home. That is the reason I’d like to salute those who stayed:
Our doctors in underfunded hospitals.
Our teachers and lecturers in under-resourced schools; at least students now have loans they can take to pay.
God bless Nigeria; we’ve had a smooth running of the educational calendar.
Though our land was looted, our pride wasn’t. Our desire for what is ours remains. Our children now avenge our forefathers. Clever not to seek permission before taking a portion of the national cake; we have learned when to attack and defend.
Fellow Nigerians, our attention and emotion are well rationed. The right gist gives us a dopamine spike. Who cares whether the unborn grandchildren of some minister now have their university fees sorted? We know how to move with the times: restructuring our proteins, fish for chicken, crayfish for fish…
Since the advent of independence and even before, we have been such passionate people. Passionate about our world, our country, our tribe, our people, our family, our lovers, and ourselves.
In our passion, we have identified and sought the most advantages. We have passionately stolen electricity from our neighbours and the power holding company without paying.
We have passionately given as well, as long as the PR is loud.
We have passionately watched the countenance of people in our dealings.
In our passion, we overblow people’s problems, promise a solution and, well, solve the problems such that they always return.
In our passion, we have taken from the earth, cutting down trees to make more paper to throw around.
We have passionately thrown ourselves around, leaving a trail wherever we go. Drainages are filled with our waste. The rain doesn’t mind our sewage.
In our passion, we ignore basic plans. Rent doubles each year with no regard for the Social Contract we are bound to.
It’s another year of being resourceful. Another year of making our lingo docile and our hearts unagile. Sitting is the new smoking, but we haven’t let go of the old smoking. We just pass it through some water and call it Shisha. Promotions and games are celebrated. We celebrate clowns. Yes, we love enjoyment.
I am now declaring this day free so we can pretend we are in paradise.
Fellow Nigerians, enjoy the new colonialism. Enjoy independence.
