Southern Nigeria

By Oladoja M.O

There comes a point in every nation’s existence when it must interrogate the very myths that forged its being, and it appears Nigeria has reached that juncture. “One Nigeria”, a slogan as old as our independence, repeated in classrooms, parliaments and pulpits alike, has gradually morphed from a patriotic creed into a hollow incantation that adorns speeches, but no convictions. A rhetoric that unites in sound but not in substance. And yet, like an overused balm, it is still generously applied to wounds that have long become septic.

When the British, in their cartographic arrogance, decided that the roaring rivers of the Niger and Benue could somehow dissolve the ancestral boundaries of a hundred nations into a single name, they planted both a promise and a peril. The promise was the strength of size, the illusion that numerical vastness equals greatness. The peril, however, lay in presuming that different civilisations, with their own gods, economies, memories, and destinies, could be hammered into a coherent polity without a shared philosophy of being. What emerged was less a federation of equals than a fragile patchwork held together by coercion and cliché.

History is replete with examples of states that mistook enforced coexistence for genuine unity. The Soviet Union once imagined that the subjugation of difference equalled solidarity until it collapsed under the weight of its own contradictions. Yugoslavia thought nationalism could be suppressed by ideology until ethnic passions burned Sarajevo into ash. Even Sudan, our continental cousin, insisted on an indivisible state until the centre could no longer contain the centrifugal cries for dignity and recognition, and the South tore itself free in a baptism of blood. Each of these polities preached “oneness,” but none could manufacture mutual trust. Unfortunately, Nigeria’s situation, though cloaked in democratic pretensions, bears an unnerving resemblance.

Decades after independence, we continue to stagger under the illusion of unity while exhibiting every symptom of division. Our politics remains a theatre of tribal anxieties. Our economy, a contest of regional grievance. Our institutions, battlegrounds of exclusion and suspicion. Every census, every election, every policy debate collapses into the arithmetic of ethnicity. We have created a federation in name, but a feud in practice. The Nigerian state, like a badly tuned orchestra, plays the anthem of unity while each instrument screams in its own discordant key.

What has deepened the tragedy is not merely that we are divided, but that we have learned to romanticise our dysfunction. The myth of “One Nigeria” has been elevated to the level of moral blackmail, as though questioning it were heresy. Yet, the facts are unflinching. From the coups and counter-coups of the 1960s, to the Biafran war that drenched this soil in youthful blood; from the endless agitations of the Niger Delta, to the violent insurgencies of the North, and the secessionist murmurs of the East, we have been a nation perpetually negotiating its own existence.

Even now, in the twenty-first century, the markers of mistrust remain, only deepened by new forms of betrayal. We have witnessed, time and again, how national security efforts are quietly sabotaged by regional sympathies where the pursuit of peace against terror becomes a political chessboard, and those who menace the state are garlanded as champions in their communities. In some quarters, it has almost become an identity to excuse barbarity in the name of kinship, to embrace those who burn the nation’s fabric as heroes rather than outlaws.

There are regions where individuals, through their character and conduct, have dragged the nation’s image into global disrepute, staining the diplomatic standing of millions, and forcing the country to spend years rebuilding bridges of trust with the international community. Elsewhere, the spirit of entitlement fosters a belief that governance is a turn-by-turn inheritance, that “it is our time now,” and so positions of influence must rotate along bloodlines and geography rather than merit. Even the recent rumblings of military adventurism, the whisper of coup sympathies and their architects seem disturbingly traceable to predictable corners of the polity, confirming that our divisions have not merely survived time; they have evolved.

Thus, we remain a country trapped in its contradictions: differential justice, uneven development, selective outrage, and an ever-widening gulf between the governors and the governed.

How then do we continue to recite the catechism of unity with straight faces? When the “one” in “One Nigeria” has become a question rather than a statement. For unity cannot be decreed by constitutions nor enforced by soldiers; it must be earned by fairness, equity, and mutual respect. When a nation’s prosperity is monopolised by a few, when power circulates within predictable bloodlines, when regions are treated not as partners but as provinces, the rhetoric of unity becomes an insult to intelligence.

We deceive ourselves with patriotic songs while ignoring the dissonance in our reality. The world is changing; nations are redefining themselves in pursuit of justice and balance. Ethiopia, after decades of internal conflict, restructured its governance to reflect its ethnic federalism. The United Kingdom, once rigidly centralised, conceded autonomy to Scotland, Wales, and Northern Ireland to preserve its union. Even Belgium, split by language and identity, discovered that devolution was the price of stability. In each case, political maturity triumphed over sentimental unity. Why then should Nigeria, with its far deeper pluralities, cling to a system that has neither delivered prosperity nor peace?

It is at this critical juncture that Nigeria must summon the courage to confront itself, not with nostalgia or denial, but with truth and pragmatism. The time has come for an honest national conversation, a sober rethinking of our structure, values, and vision. We must ask: What truly binds us, and on what terms should we continue this union? This is not a call to disintegration, but to redefinition. 

If genuine unity is to be sustained, it must be built on a framework that reflects our peculiarities rather than suppresses them. Perhaps it is time to revisit the foundations of our federalism to decide, through dialogue and consensus, whether the present centralised model still serves our collective good.

If what we need is a restructured federation that grants greater autonomy to regions, then let us pursue it with sincerity. If what we require is a return to a confederation that allows each region to govern according to its social and economic realities, then let the people decide it freely. And if, after exhaustive dialogue, it becomes clear that coexistence itself has become unsustainable, then perhaps peaceful dissolution negotiated with maturity and justice may be the truest form of unity left to us.

Whatever the outcome, silence and pretense can no longer suffice. We must choose between a future defined by courage or a decline defined by denial.

It is time to stop pretending that unity is sacred when it has become suffocating.

If we refuse to confront this reckoning, we risk learning, as others have, that when unity becomes a prison, freedom will break the walls. For now, the cracks are visible in our rhetoric, our regions, our republic. Whether they widen into collapse or are sealed with courage depends on our collective honesty. But one thing is certain: the chant of “One Nigeria” will not save us if it continues to mean nothing more than silence in the face of inequality.

Until we replace illusion with justice, and ideology with sincerity, we will remain what we are, a country yoked together by history, but not joined by purpose.

Oladoja M.O writes from Abuja and can be reached via mayokunmark@gmail.com.

By Muhammad Umar Shehu

Nigeria, as a nation, has always struggled with the idea of unity. From the country’s very foundation, deception has played a central role in shaping the narrative we’ve been led to believe. The idea that we are “one people” is more of a slogan than a reality. The truth is, there has never been genuine unity in the way the state was formed or in how it is currently run.

The political class has done more to divide us than to unite us. Instead of promoting national interest, they manipulate ethnic, religious, and regional sentiments to serve their selfish goals. Over the years, these tactics have created deep hatred and mistrust among citizens. What should have been a diverse but united people has become a society fragmented by deliberate division.

Our leaders talk about unity during campaigns or national crises, but their actions show otherwise. Appointments, projects, and policies are often distributed along lines of loyalty, tribe, or religion rather than merit or national need. This is not only unfair, but also dangerous. It feeds resentment and makes many Nigerians feel like outsiders in their own country.

In almost every region, people feel marginalised. From the South East crying out over exclusion, to the North East lamenting underdevelopment, to the Niger Delta’s struggle over resources, the sense of belonging is weak. When some groups feel like second-class citizens, it becomes nearly impossible to build a strong national identity.

The younger generation is growing increasingly aware of these divisions. Many of them are no longer buying into the false narrative of unity. They see through the hypocrisy and want a country that treats everyone fairly, regardless of background. But without sincere leadership and bold reforms, their hope for a united Nigeria may remain a dream.

Unity cannot be built on lies. It cannot exist where injustice is the norm, where corruption thrives, and where the average citizen feels neglected. We cannot continue to pretend that all is well when millions feel disconnected from the system that claims to represent them.

If Nigeria is ever going to move forward, we must stop repeating slogans and start dealing with the hard truths. The illusion of unity must give way to honest conversations, equitable governance, and deliberate efforts to bridge our divides. Only then can we begin to build a nation where unity is not just a word, but a lived experience.

Muhammad Umar Shehu, who wrote from Gombe, can be reached via umarmuhammadshehu2@gmail.com.

By Salisu Uba Kofar Wambai

The safety and dignity of Hausa people in Nigeria are increasingly under threat. The recent spate of brutal killings targeting innocent Hausa travellers across various regions of the country is both alarming and unacceptable. 

Disturbingly, the North Central and Southern parts of Nigeria, in particular, are turning into graveyards for members of the Hausa community, despite the hospitality and freedom non-indigenes continue to enjoy in Hausa land—where people from across the country have settled peacefully, enjoying all rights guaranteed under the Nigerian Constitution, including freedom of movement and residence.

The recent killing of two Hausa tanker drivers in the South-East came as a shock. They were attacked and butchered while trying to repair their broken-down vehicle. Similarly, the horrific massacre of Hausa hunters in an incident that sent shockwaves across Nigeria and beyond speaks volumes about the rising hostility against the Hausa community.

Equally tragic was the killing of Hausa travellers in Plateau State who were on their way to honour a wedding invitation. Their brutal slaughter reflects the growing dehumanisation of Hausa people, treated like cockroaches in a country they call home. In Benue State, two sons of renowned Islamic scholar, Malam Ibrahim Khalil, were also gruesomely murdered, as though their lives meant nothing.

These atrocities raise serious questions: Are we to fold our arms while our people are slaughtered day after day? Where are our political leaders? Where are the Hausa individuals within the security and intelligence networks? Is silence the best they can offer? Or is the Hausa community being pushed to a point where it might be forced to retaliate?

This alarming trend must not be ignored. The examples highlighted are only a fraction of the broader pattern of persecution being endured by Hausa people across the country. Despite being one of the most accommodating and detribalized ethnic groups in Nigeria, the Hausa are being pushed to the wall—and if this continues, the unity of the Nigerian federation could be at serious risk.

Urgent action is required. These barbaric attacks must stop, and those responsible must be brought to justice. The time to act is now.

By Muhammad Umar Shehu

Let’s stop sugarcoating it. Nigeria’s leaders have failed the very people they swore to serve. The signs are everywhere. Millions go to bed hungry, communities are under constant threat from bandits and terrorists, and families bury loved ones over avoidable tragedies. The cry from the North to the South is the same: “Where is the government?”

For decades, we have watched politicians campaign with promises and disappear after elections. We have listened to speeches full of hope, only to wake up to worsening hardship. Whether in education, healthcare, security, or the economy, Nigerians are primarily left to fend for themselves in a country that seems to work only for the elite.

Electricity is unstable. Public schools are underfunded. Hospitals lack basic equipment. Roads are death traps. Jobs are scarce. The police often protect the rich while the poor face brutality. The gap between government and the governed has become dangerously wide.

But the failure didn’t start yesterday. It results from years of corruption, mismanagement, and lack of vision. Successive governments, both military and civilian, have chipped away at the country’s foundations while enriching themselves. The civil service, once respected, is now known more for inefficiency and bribery than service delivery.

What’s worse is that people have grown tired. Tired of voting without results. Tired of protesting with no response. Tired of hoping for leaders who never come. This fatigue is dangerous because when people lose faith in the system, they seek alternatives. And that is where chaos begins.

Still, all hope is not lost. The first step is honesty. We need to admit that things are not okay. Then, we must demand better. Louder. Consistently. In unity. Good governance doesn’t happen by chance. It happens when citizens hold leaders accountable during elections and every day after.

Nigeria is not poor. Nigerians are not lazy. The failure lies in a leadership that treats public service like a private business. Until that changes, the suffering will continue. But if the people find their voice and use it, we may turn this broken system into something that works for all.

Muhammad Umar Shehu wrote from Gombe and can be reached via umarmuhammadshehu2@gmail.com.

By Abdurrazak Muktar Makarfi

I want to share an inspiring story about perseverance and determination. Some time ago, Malam Aisara Fagge, a visionary educator from Kano, conceived an innovative idea to empower youths with knowledge about Artificial Intelligence (AI) and train them to utilize ChatGPT effectively. 

Malam Aisar took his enthusiasm to social media, publicly announcing his intention to collaborate with Professor Abdullah Uba Adamu on this project. Although the project didn’t come to fruition, an interesting turn of events unfolded. 

Shortly after, I stumbled upon banners advertising training programs on ChatGPT in southern Nigeria with prices that seemed exorbitant. I shared these banners with Malam Aisara, whose response was profound: ‘When you have an idea, many people will try to replicate it.’ His words echoed the age-old adage that ‘imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.”

This experience came flooding back when I connected with Dr. Idris Ahmed on social media. He shares a similar passion for educating people about computer appreciation and AI and plans to make this vision a reality through his NGO, CUPS. I was impressed by his dedication, and I offered him my support.

What’s truly remarkable about Dr. Idris’s endeavor is his commitment to training many people, thereby pioneering a movement in this field. His initiative has the potential to bridge the knowledge gap and make AI more accessible to a broader audience in Nigeria and beyond.

I sincerely hope Dr. Idris receives the support and recognition he deserves to make this project a resounding success. I pray that Almighty Allah grants success to both Malam Aisara Fagge and Dr. Idris Ahmed in their endeavors, and may their efforts bring about positive change in the lives of many.

Abdurrazak Muktar Makarfi wrote via prof4true1@gmail.com.

By Ishaka Mohammed

My employers often commended my efforts, increased my salary and gave me bonuses even when I didn’t see any significant impact of my tutelage as a private school teacher. I was worried about my studentsʼ poor comprehension, negative attitude towards learning, and low morals. I couldn’t even stop them from cheating in tests and exams.

Although it was safe to link my failure to a lack of formal teaching qualifications, I expected the impact of the workshops I attended. And to cap it all, most of the teachers I knew (with the required qualifications) weren’t getting any better results. I was frustrated; I blamed parents, society and inadequate facilities—in that order.

However, I was joyous to get a job with an international school in 2024. The school offered excellent educational facilities, teacher training, a six-figure salary, pension, heavily subsidised lunch, and transport and accommodation allowances, among other things. Everything about the school was promising.

Nonetheless, my first meeting with the students ended my excitement. I worked harder than ever before, but as each new week brought tougher challenges, I conceded that I could neither minimise nor tolerate the disruptive behaviour and utter disrespect of the children of politicians, diplomats, business tycoons, etc. They came to the school for two reasons: to have fun and build rapport with their future business partners or political allies.

I quit the job after a term. While I was leaving, some senior colleagues commended my courage to do what they had been unable to do for years despite facing the same challenges that prompted my resignation.

I became jobless but happier, and I didn’t wish to teach again. But a call from a school proprietor in a distant state changed my mind. The head of the department I resigned from recommended that I attend a school he believed would suit me.

This happened when I was already preparing to start a new position in a different industry. My prospective employer is notorious for delaying salary payments.

After weighing the salary factor and the state of education in Yorubaland, I chose to return to teaching, and bingo! My new students meet all my criteria, particularly regarding their morals. Even though they come from privileged backgrounds, they are humble, respectful, and eager for knowledge. 

There was a day when we didn’t have enough teachers to invigilate the tests, and I was the only one who seemed concerned. Two halls were left without invigilators, yet everything went smoothly. I was impressed by the students’ maturity and honesty.

My meeting with these students has reminded me of many things, one of which is the importance of being oneself. While I recognise the significance of adaptability, I still believe that some principles should not be compromised. I appreciate the gentleman who referred me to my new employer. I commend the parents and guardians of these learners, the school management, and all the staff for nurturing such remarkable members of society. Once again, I am optimisticthat Nigeria will be better in the future.

Ishaka Mohammed wrote via ishakamohammed39@gmail.com.

By Usman Mujtaba Shehu

The National Youth Service Corps scheme idea was to expedite contacts across cultural zones and bridge the cultural gaps, and surmount cultural stereotypes.

Being in an NYSC dress is a dream come true for me. Having visualized how it would feel or how I would look in it about two decades ago, I’m thrilled to experience it finally. When I was younger, I used to wear my father’s NYSC ceremonial shirt. Although it was oversized, the tip reaching my knee sparked my interest in the NYSC program.

The question isn’t just about the dress but about the experience and feeling of being a Corp member. That’s what many people long for. During the registration process, I didn’t encounter many hitches. The main challenge was the duration of my university program, which was prolonged due to the long ASUU strike and the emergence of the COVID-19 pandemic.

Apart from these two reasons, all the delays were natural, stemming from the nature of my school’s (ATBU) calendar. The NYSC registration, receiving my call-up number, and anticipating my state of deployment were challenging. I spent 13 hours in the CAFE in the queue waiting to be registered. Additionally, I waited several more hours to receive my call-up number and was eventually deployed to Dakin Gari Orientation Camp in Kebbi State.

When I saw the call-up letter, I was sad, and my mind wandered to the 1-day, almost 12-hour journey ahead. After arriving at Birnin Kebbi, I had to find a taxi to the camp, which was a struggle. It took me 4 hours to get a cab and another 2 hours to reach my destination. I arrived at the camp in the evening, around 5:30 pm. Luckily, the registration queue had been reduced, so I didn’t have to wait.

After checking my bag, I proceeded to the admin block for registration. I discovered my platoon from my state code, which was like a registration number. And from the last digit, I knew I was in platoon 4. I collected my meal ticket, which served as a food ID, and was given a mattress and bed space in the Boys’ Hostel (3).

After settling in, I attended another registration session conducted by the platoon officer. Once completed, I received a set of light-green khaki, the NYSC ceremonial shirt, an orange boot, a white cover shoe, a customized cap, and two pairs of short white trousers and shirts. I felt mixed emotions, reflecting on the future and how it would unfold.

Is it true that the orientation is difficult? In the NYSC Orientation Camp, you feel a sense of belonging regardless of your background or who you are. This is rooted in the NYSC act and the orientation design, which aligns with their motto of “humility and service.” The process is humbling, bringing together people from diverse tribes, such as Yoruba, Hausa, Igbo, Ebra, Tiv, and Fulani.

Religious activities are also accommodated, with three Christian prayer points and one mosque. This allows Corp members to practice their faith without discrimination.

The sense of togetherness is reinforced by the uniform dress code, which includes white shirts and trousers, customized shirts with NYSC alphabets emblazoned on the front, and khaki trousers with boots and customized caps for ceremonies. Trust among Corp members develops quickly as they view themselves as similar or familiar, united by their platoons.

Platoons unite Corp members, and my platoon (platoon 4) leader, a Yoruba from Lagos, exemplified this unity. With 10 platoons, each comprising over 100 Corp members from different states, backgrounds, languages, and cultures, we were united under a shared platoon identity designed by NYSC to foster unity and patriotism.

People tend to trust those within their in-group, and belonging is a primal instinct. When Corp members display attitudes, beliefs, or platoon membership, others tend to like and trust them more. My response to lowering the Nigerian flag every 6:00 pm still amazes me. Every activity would come to a halt when the trumpet was blown.

My new identity became my platoon. I made new friends across all platoons, but Platoon 4 became like family. Competitions were organized to strengthen bonds within platoons. I participated in the football competition and cheered for my platoon in the parade competition, cooking, cultural dance (Edo Dance), and other events.

I attended over 30 lectures and sensitization sessions with my platoon, covering education, health, relocation, finances, and more topics. I only separated from my platoon during the Skill Acquisition and Entrepreneurship Development (SAED) launch. Corp members were allowed to choose their training. I attended and listened to about 30 lectures and sensitization sessions with my platoon. The lectures cover almost all areas, including education, health, relocation, finances, etc.

That was how we were shared with eight different skills Acquisition classes. I chose ICT and learned basic Data analysis and graphic design using pixels.

The orientation is rigorous and tedious. But when I reflect on the whole objective of the NYSC initiative itself, it’s worth it. It’s not a pointless activity but a scheme meant to instil discipline, love of country, and love of one another. As mentioned in the national anthem: ‘Though tribes and tongue may differ, in brotherhood we stand’.

Usman Mujtaba Shehu wrote via usmanmujtabashehu@gmail.com.

By Waliyat Ayomide Oseni

In an era increasingly defined by globalisation and interconnectedness, cultural diversity has become pivotal in shaping educational frameworks worldwide. In Nigeria, a nation rich in ethnic plurality and cultural heritage, cultural diversity within educational institutions assumes strategic importance.

Cultural diversity refers to various cultural, ethnic, and social backgrounds represented within a community. Nigeria is often called a “melting pot” due to its numerous ethnic groups, languages, customs, and traditions. This diversity can enrich the educational experience, providing students with a broader worldview and enhancing their understanding of global issues. 

Nigeria is a diverse country with over 250 ethnic groups and more than 400 languages spoken, reflecting a rich cultural tapestry. This diversity is fundamental to Nigerian society and contributes to its vibrancy and uniqueness. Ethnic groups such as the Hausa-Fulani, Yoruba, and Igbo, among others, each bring their traditions, languages, and customs, creating a mosaic of cultures across the nation. 

Religious diversity is also prominent, with Islam, Christianity, and traditional African religions coexisting harmoniously. This cultural richness is celebrated through various festivals, ceremonies, and events, showcasing the country’s diverse heritage and promoting unity among its people.

One of the most significant benefits of cultural diversity in Nigerian educational institutions is promoting critical thinking and problem-solving skills. Diverse classrooms encourage students to engage with differing viewpoints, challengepreconceived notions, and foster respect for others’ beliefs and practices. This exposure sharpens analytical skills andcultivates empathy and social awareness, which are crucial for functioning in a diverse society and workplace. 

Diversity also fuels creativity and innovation in the learning process. When students are encouraged to collaborate across cultural boundaries, they combine unique experiences and ideas, leading to imaginative solutions to complex challenges. 

For instance, blending cultural perspectives in group projects can enhance creativity and result in more comprehensive and multifaceted outcomes. Educational leaders who emphasise collaboration among students from diverse backgrounds can harness this potential, creating an environment that nurtures innovative thinking.

In addition, extracurricular activities such as cultural festivals, language clubs, and international exchange programs can enrich students’ learning experiences and promote cultural appreciation. These initiatives foster community and belonging while encouraging students to celebrate their unique identities.

In conclusion, cultural diversity within Nigerian educational institutions offers many benefits, including enriched learning experiences, enhanced critical thinking, and improved interpersonal skills. Educators play a vital role in embracing this diversity and fostering an inclusive environment where every student can thrive. As Nigeria continues to navigate its identity within a global landscape, prioritising cultural diversity in education will undoubtedly enrich the learning experiences of future generations and contribute to the nation’s development.

Waliyat Ayomide Oseni wrote from the Department of Mass Communications, Bayero University, Kano.

Dear Nigerians,  

1. May God have mercy on you! Your country’s name evokes the abundance of the River Niger, symbolising the endless resources and talents you possess. This nation is blessed with natural wealth and human potential that garners admiration and envy worldwide. 

2. Yet, tears fall when we consider the mismanagement, waste, and looting of this vibrant nation. It’s disheartening to see Nigerian youths unaware of the treasures surrounding them. Who will inherit this great wealth? Where are the competent young leaders to take over when the current generation finally acknowledges its fatigue?

3.  An effective national curriculum should focus on the aspirations and values of the youth. Nigerian youths should be more than seekers of white-collar jobs; they should harness the nation’s real wealth. Ignorance of one’s resources is a grave form of slavery. The curriculum must evolve to cultivate dignity and progress, preparing future nation-builders.

4. Imagine if Nigerians refrained from destructive desires, top to bottom. These desires only ruin their possessors and the entire nation, destabilising not just Nigeria but the region. What would be lost if corruption ceased? Crimes harm the country and ultimately lead to personal ruin.

5. Despite challenges, Nigeria still holds immense potential if its people unite in nation-building. Respect and kindness across ethnic lines won’t harm anyone. Being good neighbours to one another will ensure that no one suffers amid abundance.

6. It’s not easy to forget historical hurts, but healing is necessary to dream big. I dream of a Nigeria that sheds its negative image and becomes a beacon of resilience, talent, and beauty. We can achieve this dream with patience, optimism, and the will to be good.

7. Let the brave ones from every region come forward. Whether in rags or adorned in gold, it’s the mind that matters. Your willingness to embrace reform reflects the people’s hope. Learn about your nation, not just from social media but from its history and potential.

8. There is hope for Nigeria. Nations with more severe problems have risen. Remember, you hold the most powerful office: the Office of the Citizen. Decorate it with action, not despair. If Nigeria isn’t working, it’s because we aren’t working.

9. Weak minds say, “There is no hope.” Strong minds respond, “We have work to do.” Nigeria is the office of every Nigerian. If progress is absent, it’s because we aren’t active. Be inspired and make progress in Nigeria, which is your first concern.

10. Nigeria has served as a beacon of hope for other nations and has the potential to do so again. I have witnessed the kindness, wisdom, and vision of many Nigerians. Goodness is locked within the nation—are you the one to awaken it?

11. If you are, be patient. Don’t let anger or frustration lead to violence. Dedicate yourself to the dream of reform, and one day, you will wipe away the tears of your people.

12. Praise God for making you a Nigerian. Reform begins with you. Even if you only change one person, the impact will be immeasurable. Don’t give up if you find people obsessed with crime and corruption.

13. Your good deeds, endurance, and sacrifices inspire those around you. Continue to educate, alleviate pain, and instil hope. The people are not as bad as they seem; many are ignorant or traumatised.

14. Mass education, not violence or migration, is the answer. Enlightenment will help people learn from the tragedies of war-torn regions.

15.No matter how far you run, home will always call you back. The time to act is now!

Amara Sesay wrote via amarasesay.amir@gmail.com.

By Saifullahi Attahir Wurno

I had the privilege of working in a private firm during a long break from medical school. It’s like a dream, being versatile and getting the opportunity to work as a marketing officer instead of holding a scalpel and stethoscope. It would allow me to enhance my communication skills and human relations, increase my networking, and learn to be more responsible and accountable.  

Indeed, it’s teaching me how to be more assertive and aggressive, unlike my initial shy character. I had to learn to sell my product, pressure people to pay me back, and say no to fraudulent transactions. Indeed, I am learning that there is a larger world outside of the hospital.

I had a firsthand experience of the reason why the ‘major’ Northern Nigerian tribes lag in terms of competitiveness in business, science, athletics, and education compared to our Southern counterparts and even the ‘minority’ tribes from the North. This is a sad reality and a bitter truth. I stand humbly to be corrected if my statement is far from fact.

I began this work not more than three months ago, but their level of humility and respect toward the bosses was something I had never seen. These people always greet their boss with respect. They respect their colleagues at work irrespective of their level. They attend to customers with courtesy and gentility. 

They have this attitude of taking their job seriously no matter how meagre their pay is. I have never heard any of them complaining about their pay despite having heard of numerous complaints from ‘my people’. Although I tried to arrive at the office at least 3 minutes before 8 a.m., thanks to my medical professional training, those people always arrived 15-20 minutes earlier. I observed this from the attendance record in front of the Security man.

This story was about our security man from the South-East. I used to see him working in the hospital where I lived (since I reside in the medical students’ hostel). He used to work with a private security company in Dutse, Jigawa State, working a shift daily between 8 pm and 5 am. I have known about this man for the past year. 

Surprisingly, we met in this company, too, working between 8 a.m. and 5 p.m. daily. When I enquired more about him, I discovered he was even managing a small trader kiosk in front of his house with his wife. The most astonishing part was that this same person has a National Diploma (ND) in Public Administration and is currently doing his part-time HND at Jigawa Polytechnic during the weekend studying Criminology.

It’s hard to instil this attitude of resilience in our people, who have families to feed while juggling two lowly-paying jobs that take up most of their daily lives and are also studying for personal development.

There was this teenage girl who was also of the same South-eastern origin. She was just out of secondary school. She was the company cleaner and one of the lowly paid staff. But this Lady took her job with every seriousness, coming out daily earlier before all others arrived, sweeping and cleaning the environment neatly, and even using pleasant deodorants. She would not disappear after all this but remain in the office until 2 pm if something arises.

This young lady preferred to come out every morning and do a lowly paying, menial job of cleaning the toilet and mopping floors to be paid ₦30,000 monthly to help her parents financially and felt proud of her achievement instead of sitting down at her mother’s room all day, wasting time of social media.

The spirit of humility and looking after one another was mind-blowing and pathetic whenever I remember ‘my people’ who constantly brag about good culture and religion. There was a time when this young cleaner was sick, and all the staff arrived one morning ready for work. So, we realised she was ill and, thus, absent. We were in this dilemma of what to do; what I saw next was astonishing: there was a group of about five young and classic ladies, all of whom were graduates of the university and among those highly paid in the office. 

Without delay, these ladies volunteer to bring out all the cleaning equipment and do the job wonderfully. Without telling, this thing happened in front of about three of the same young ladies from ‘my people’ despite being Diploma holders and one with even a secondary school certificate.

During my stay, I observed that these people were not very involved in office politics, gossiping and abusing bosses. They were not in the habit of making silly excuses just to move around. I have never observed anyone attempting to involve himself in any fraudulent act to cheat a customer or act against the established rules of company ethics.

From this alone, I have come to draw the answers to why most of the reputable private investment in this country is dominated by ‘those’ people. I have discovered why they dominate our banks, the FinTech, and most prominent organisations. I have seen the reason why they dominate our science and technology establishments. I have seen why they even dominate our athletes and sports sector.

The answer is relatively straight. It is simply character and nothing else. It is about our character, perception of life, and attitudes. It is all about their attitude of resilience, respect, humility, gratitude, and discipline.  Let’s learn and not use excuses or blame games.

Saifullahi Attahir Wurno wrote via saifullahiattahir93@gmail.com