AS the country marks its 64th independence anniversary today, I revisited some of the articles I wrote over the last 15 years to commemorate our years of independence. I began to wonder whether there is really any point writing anything new.

In fact, if you bring any article written about the Nigerian condition five or ten years ago and edit the dates and the gladiators, it would still seem to be relevant. This raises a fundamental question of whether our writings really make any difference:  Is there really anyone out there who is in a position to change things, who bothers to read these articles? And if such people exist, do they care? 

The dominant impression the power wielders at all levels of governance give, is that it is their “turn”, and since most seem not even to believe in the country, shorn of all pretences, they are telling their critics, or those proffering unsolicited advice, to “go hug a transformer”, or “go to court” if they do not like their style of governance or their explanations for why things are the way they are.

Depending on who you are, their estimation of the followership you command and your ethnic, party or religious affiliations, you could also be accused of “bad belle” because you or the candidate you supported lost the last election. You will sure be on the radar of the EFCC or other security agencies who will one day invite you for questioning on suspicions of ‘terrorism financing’.

The combination of all these seem to have pushed most Nigerian into a state of ennui – bored and tired of everything.  They appear tired of their leaders and distrustful of those angling to replace them. They scoff at suggestions for making things right and tell you that our problem is not the absence of good laws, but implementing them. I suspect that many of those joining the ‘japa’ syndrome(including people who are doing reasonably well here), do so not necessarily because they feel they will have a better life where they are emigrating to, but because they want to escape from it all for the sake of their sanity and humanity. Nigeria is fast approximating the Hobbesian ‘state of nature’ in which life is short, nasty and brutish. Hope – that critical ingredient that gives meaning to life- seems to be evaporating quickly for most Nigerians.

The above brings back the question of what really is the problem with Nigeria? And what is the way out. Since I have posed these questions severally during each of our independence anniversaries the past 15 years or so, I will, on this occasion revisit my views on the trouble with Nigeria, and the way out, using my article on the country’s 63rd anniversary as the baseline:

The idea that there is nothing else to celebrate other than our managing to be together for these past 63 years, is to take pessimism too far. Certainly, we have made some progress on all fronts – from the revolution in telecoms to a Nigerian firm (Dangote) achieving the status of a multinational corporation, to the emergence of an indigenous motor manufacturing company (Innoson Motors), to the country having a Nobel Laureate in Literature and to the global mainstreaming of the accomplishments of our entertainment artists in music and films. On nationhood, the rate of inter-ethnic marriages and friendships has continued to grow.

I now believe that though there are several Nigerians and corporations that have distinguished themselves – in businesses, entertainment and sports –  these do not automatically translate to national achievements because, as the saying goes, the whole is always greater than the sum of its constituent parts, not the other way around. I may therefore have been too hard on those who argued that there was nothing to celebrate about during our anniversary last year.

Nigeria is like a national football club made up of highly talented players but who cannot translate their individual skills into an effective goal-scoring national team.  Even the progress we have made in inter-ethnic marriages which I highlighted as one of our bright spots during the 63rd anniversary, has now come under strain. Since the 2023 elections, in some parts of the South-West, being married to an Igbo, is now promoted by some as a disqualification for public office.  The impact of this ‘new normal’ on building inter-ethnic bonds through marriages is yet to fully crystallise through the system.

In fact, the idea that the separate nationalities that were agglomerated into one entity in 1914 could have done better if they had continued on their individual paths to development is purely academic. The truth, however, is that if these nationalities were as powerful and successful as we often make them to be, they would not have been easily conquered and pacified by a few White men, as was the case in most pre-colonial entities that fused to become Nigeria. Besides, that a nation has a homogeneity of culture and language is no guarantee that it will build a successful nation-state, as the case of Somalia illustrates.

I still believe strongly in my position on this. I also believe this is probably one of the reasons most Nigerians from different ethnic and religious affiliation are still hoping that the country will work. There is a big distrust of leaders at various levels of governance, there is scepticism that opposition leaders will make any difference if given the opportunity, and there is a lack of confidence that the system dynamics in the country will allow such opposition leaders to come to power in the first place – even if people vote overwhelmingly for them. There are also doubts about the leaders of the various separatist movements – a wariness that they have the capacity to achieve their avowed goal of separation, suspicions that they might be using their agitations for fame and lucre, and lack of conviction that even if they manage to succeed in their agitations, life under their governance will be better than what currently prevails. 

In fact, the whole notion that “if we go our separate ways” some parts of the country would become El dorado while others would become desolate lands, have been demystified under the Buhari and Tinubu presidencies. Until he became President in 2015, Buhari’s supporters passionately promoted him as an ascetic and incorruptible man who had the magic wand, or whose ‘body language’ alone would solve all of the country’s problems. However, by the time he exhausted his eight years in office, almost all indicators of human development in the country – including some progress made in nation-building, have nosedived south.

Instead of a political ‘messiah’, he became seen by the generality of Nigerians as the poster boy of incompetence and clannishness. His famed ‘body language’ appeared to have worked only on some of the public functionaries under him who competed to disproportionately site federal projects in his home town of Daura. This, however, did not save even his home state of Katsina from the fate several other states in the country suffered and still suffer– excruciating poverty and frightening insecurity. 

When Tinubu was campaigning for office, in contrast to Buhari, no one marketed him as ‘Mr. Integrity’.  Here his promoters, while not conceding the scandals and allegations linked to him, argued that since we have tried a man deified as a saint (Buhari) and it did not work, it might be time to try a man perceived differently.

He was promoted as a talent-spotter, creator of modern Lagos and ocean tamer, who, when he was the Governor of Lagos State, demonstrated his cosmopolitanism by having Nigerians from different ethnicities and religions in his cabinet. He was also marketed as an extremely wealthy man who knew the ways of the crooked and how to tame them.   However, less than two years in office, the Tinubu government is making Buhari look good on all fronts.  Welcome to the season of ennui.

To be concluded

*Jideofor Adibe is Professor of Political Science at Nasarawa State University, Keffi.