It's taken me a couple of weeks to write this. Here goes.
It's very easy for Nigerian's that are based outside the country to come to the conclusion that they are homesick, that they miss the food, the people, the land, the culture. And perhaps they do. But it is also surprisingly easy for us to forget that Nigeria is not the idolised country of our idealistic and naive childhood. Things are different. The people have changed. The country is crumbling. The government has gotten worse. We have our own in-house terrorists. Our land is terminally ill but because there is so much attacking our immune system we can't even figure out what the source is.
I was at Miango Rest Home in a little town not too far away from Jos in the middle belt of Nigeria for a 3-day retreat. Beautiful scenery. Amazing food. Great exercise. Everything was good and the people were funny and lovely. But being there for those three days was like being out of the country; I was beginning to live in a kind of blissful oblivion, forgetting the Nigeria that existed elsewhere. On the day we were leaving everyone we had met came to say goodbye. People here were so friendly that somewhere in my head I assured myself that what I knew wasn't true. I told myself that Nigeria hadn't changed at all! Of course not! I grew up in this country that was now making international headlines for all the wrong reasons. IF we had nothing else, we would always have our solidarity. But you can't sing solidarity with your brother one day and set him on fire the next.
On our way back home I changed my mind again. We hadn't wandered far from Miango Rest Home when my sister stopped to get some fresh vegetables from a market. (trust me cheapest bestest veg in the country!! lol). I stayed in the car with my nieces and watched through the window as my sister bartered fiercely with the women in their stalls. My eye suddenly caught movement in one of the car mirrors and I watched with a tightened jaw as a man was led by a rope through the market, a small crowd following and ridiculing him. The first thought that came to my mind was ALUU4. If you don't know what that is look into it but be warned it is gruesome. The entire story centred around the brutal murder of 4 allegedly innocent university students in the southern part of Nigeria late last year. The phrase in the media at that time was Jungle Justice-citizens taking justice into their own hands.
In all fairness to them, if there was justice in the justice system perhaps they wouldn't feel the need to take theirs to the jungle. Nevertheless all I could do was watch angrily as the man was paraded around the little market. As they left I couldn't help but wonder what would become of him. Would he be killed or set free? How would they kill him? I concluded there that my country had changed, not because there hadn't been similar cases when I was younger, not because Nigeria was some peaceful country in my childhood. My country had changed because it had evolved to the point where solidarity alone just wouldn't do any more. Words alone wouldn't do. Making far fetched plans for an ever changing future wouldn't do. We are worth more than words.
I hear people my age outside of Nigeria making plans and they are often divided into 2 main categories: those that are happy staying outside of Nigeria with the knowledge they have gathered. They are too scared or too nonchalant to go back home and make a change with everything that they've become. Then we have the ones that are all too happy to return to Nigeria to continue perpetuating the sins of their fathers. Very few people fall into the gap in the middle, those who want to help. But I've watched a lot of them fumble around in the dark because although they want to help, no one really knows how.
I'm not here to offer any insight or sage advice. I have my own plans. My thoughts today can be summed up in the fact that it is easy to love or judge from a distance. Come home and tell me how you really feel when you see kids bathing in a gutter, alleged criminals being paraded, shamed and killed, police officers putting up signs that say you cannot bribe them but still managing to extract money from your pocket before you leave the check point. Tell me how much you love the motherland after watching her bare all.
It's very easy for Nigerian's that are based outside the country to come to the conclusion that they are homesick, that they miss the food, the people, the land, the culture. And perhaps they do. But it is also surprisingly easy for us to forget that Nigeria is not the idolised country of our idealistic and naive childhood. Things are different. The people have changed. The country is crumbling. The government has gotten worse. We have our own in-house terrorists. Our land is terminally ill but because there is so much attacking our immune system we can't even figure out what the source is.
I was at Miango Rest Home in a little town not too far away from Jos in the middle belt of Nigeria for a 3-day retreat. Beautiful scenery. Amazing food. Great exercise. Everything was good and the people were funny and lovely. But being there for those three days was like being out of the country; I was beginning to live in a kind of blissful oblivion, forgetting the Nigeria that existed elsewhere. On the day we were leaving everyone we had met came to say goodbye. People here were so friendly that somewhere in my head I assured myself that what I knew wasn't true. I told myself that Nigeria hadn't changed at all! Of course not! I grew up in this country that was now making international headlines for all the wrong reasons. IF we had nothing else, we would always have our solidarity. But you can't sing solidarity with your brother one day and set him on fire the next.
On our way back home I changed my mind again. We hadn't wandered far from Miango Rest Home when my sister stopped to get some fresh vegetables from a market. (trust me cheapest bestest veg in the country!! lol). I stayed in the car with my nieces and watched through the window as my sister bartered fiercely with the women in their stalls. My eye suddenly caught movement in one of the car mirrors and I watched with a tightened jaw as a man was led by a rope through the market, a small crowd following and ridiculing him. The first thought that came to my mind was ALUU4. If you don't know what that is look into it but be warned it is gruesome. The entire story centred around the brutal murder of 4 allegedly innocent university students in the southern part of Nigeria late last year. The phrase in the media at that time was Jungle Justice-citizens taking justice into their own hands.
In all fairness to them, if there was justice in the justice system perhaps they wouldn't feel the need to take theirs to the jungle. Nevertheless all I could do was watch angrily as the man was paraded around the little market. As they left I couldn't help but wonder what would become of him. Would he be killed or set free? How would they kill him? I concluded there that my country had changed, not because there hadn't been similar cases when I was younger, not because Nigeria was some peaceful country in my childhood. My country had changed because it had evolved to the point where solidarity alone just wouldn't do any more. Words alone wouldn't do. Making far fetched plans for an ever changing future wouldn't do. We are worth more than words.
I hear people my age outside of Nigeria making plans and they are often divided into 2 main categories: those that are happy staying outside of Nigeria with the knowledge they have gathered. They are too scared or too nonchalant to go back home and make a change with everything that they've become. Then we have the ones that are all too happy to return to Nigeria to continue perpetuating the sins of their fathers. Very few people fall into the gap in the middle, those who want to help. But I've watched a lot of them fumble around in the dark because although they want to help, no one really knows how.
I'm not here to offer any insight or sage advice. I have my own plans. My thoughts today can be summed up in the fact that it is easy to love or judge from a distance. Come home and tell me how you really feel when you see kids bathing in a gutter, alleged criminals being paraded, shamed and killed, police officers putting up signs that say you cannot bribe them but still managing to extract money from your pocket before you leave the check point. Tell me how much you love the motherland after watching her bare all.
