Elitism

By Usman Muhammad Salihu,

In Nigeria today, the loudest voices belong to politicians, policymakers, and power brokers. They dominate the headlines, flood our timelines, and distract us with promises that rarely survive beyond campaign seasons. Yet, the true story of this country isn’t written in the echo chambers of Abuja or the mansions of Lagos. It is written daily in the struggles, resilience, and quiet innovations of ordinary citizens.

Think about the woman who wakes before dawn to fry bean cakes by the roadside, not only to feed her children but also to put other people’s children on the road to school. Or the young graduate who, tired of waiting for white-collar jobs, starts a small business online and employs three others. These stories rarely make the news. Yet, they are the heartbeat of our nation.

But here’s the tragedy: Contemporary Nigeria seems designed to work against these everyday heroes. Power cuts paralyse small businesses. Inflation, now on food items, erodes family savings before the end of the month. Insecurity forces farmers to abandon their fields and traders to fear the road. Meanwhile, most of the political class remains locked in battles over appointments, power-sharing, and personal interests.

The question is not whether Nigeria has potential; we have repeated that mantra for decades. The real question is, when will we begin to prioritise the citizen above the system?

Imagine a Nigeria where governance shifts from elite negotiations to practical solutions: working schools, safe communities, accessible healthcare, and reliable electricity. That’s not fantasy; it is a choice.

The good news is that despite the odds, Nigerians are not waiting. Communities are solving their own problems. Tech-savvy youths are creating digital markets. Women’s cooperatives are building small savings pools. Farmers are collaborating to beat middlemen. These are the silent revolutions we must amplify, not just the failures of the elite.

If the political class won’t prioritise the citizen, then the media, civil society, and Nigerians themselves must. We must shift the spotlight from what politicians promise to what Nigerians are already doing, because that is how change starts – not from the top, but from the people who refuse to give up.

Nigeria stands at a crossroads. One road leads to more political drama, endless debates, and broken promises. The other road leads to a citizen-centred nation where leaders are compelled to serve, not rule.

The choice is ours. But more importantly, the responsibility is theirs.

Usman Muhammad Salihu was among the pioneer fellows of PRNigeria and wrote from Jos, Nigeria. He can be reached via muhammadu5363@gmail.com.

By Idris Yana

As is usual with Nigerian cyberspace, the wedding of Yusuf Buhari and Zarah Bayero has sparked yet another trend of varied opinions. From pre-wedding pictures to the statehouse dinner – which hopefully marked the end of weeks of grandeur events – each gathering left behind a trail for criticism or praise. Given the number of these varied opinions the wedding has generated, I have attempted to deviate from commenting on its rights and wrongs.

As a keen observer of Nigeria’s evolution since the return to democracy in 1999 and a privileged citizen who witnessed the country’s pre-1999 socio-economy, one thing that is inevitably noticeable is the vast evolving gap that separates the haves and the have-nots. Election into political offices has become a lifeboat that rescues few people from the sinking ship that carries Nigerian masses. On the one hand, these politicians succeeded in blending in an elite circle that was hitherto formed by the military personnel (generally retired); civil servants, whose share of national cake from Heaven; contractors (and every Nigerian knows what this means); and few legitimate business moguls. But, on the other hand, the explosive downtrodden population continues to sink into the abyss of poverty.

The widening gap between these two classes has created a cause for concern. As the elite, in most cases, carelessly flaunt their expensive lifestyle to the envious eyes of the poverty-stricken majority, this has begun to breed resentment in the hearts of the majority of the latter. This resentment is gradually increasing whenever an event like Yusuf and Zarah’s wedding takes place.

Elitism in all cultures is real and inevitable. Since time immemorial, societies have always been divided along this line. What distinguishes Nigeria’s current situation is the circumstance and extent to which these class differences are expressed. In a country where the level of poverty, and its attendant consequences, is glaring, the reckless flamboyance must be done with caution. This is especially important when poverty-induced (in)security crises are on the rise.

The poor and forgotten should also not allow self-pity to make them wallow in destitution. In most cases, they are the ones who made these overnight elites by electing them to the privileged offices. They can change that by holding them accountable for their responsibilities. Another way is by defining what they want from these politicians. Electing people based on primordial sentiments or personal aggrandisement must stop. Most importantly, people must understand that they are the architects of their future.

Idris Yana writes from Exeter, United Kingdom. He can be reached via idrishyana@gmail.com or @Idrisyana (Twitter).