I am the trouble with Nigeria, yes I am!

I have come today to make a confession. I am the trouble with Nigeria. I see things around me going wrong and say nothing. Is it fear? Cowardice? Lack of concern? Ignorance? Whatever it is, I am the trouble with Nigeria. I am past 18 years in age and I do not bother to find out when and where voter registration and the updating of the electoral roll is being done. I have long concluded that my vote will never count, yet I now and again murmur over poor governance. And when I am finally ‘persuaded’ to register to vote, I join the queues for the wrong reasons; forgetting that it is as I make my bed that I would lay on it. I vote on sentiments and inducements, yet expect performance. I am the quintessential ostrich that would, on sighting the approaching storm, bury my head in the ground even when my body remains exposed over-ground for all to see. I am the trouble with Nigeria. I pay no taxes, drive on the wrong side of the road, honk needlessly and expect to live in a great society where all systems work seamlessly. I accept bribes. And give some also. I cut corners, wait for hand-outs, fail to attend Parents Teachers Association (PTA) meetings for my children and wards; despise street and neighbourhood association convocations and yet wonder why the entire nation is not working; why great leaders are not being elected into office; and why the average politician is not any better than the motor park urchin that, back in the day, could not put his sums together properly. I am the trouble with Nigeria. I received bad education and I’m doing nothing about it going forward. I do not host a blog or write letters to the editor. I carry out my tasks and assignments perfunctorily. I impact nobody, encourage nobody, protect nobody, defend nobody, inspire nobody; yet expect to be in high spirits myself; I am the trouble with Nigeria. I see my neighbour’s children taking wrong turns, and I say thank God mine are doing better; I see ebola ravage the country next door and I heave a sigh of relief that it is not my problem at all. I get a contract to fix the road where I live; ‘it is my share of the national cake,’ I exhale; my Jeep will get me through the potholes even when they expand! I am indeed the trouble with Nigeria. I am the son-of-the-soil (really, totally fouled up) who sells the same plot of land to six different sets of land seekers. I hawk and dispense fake drugs. I write examinations for willing-to-pay candidates. I rape defenseless children. I cheat on my wife without blinking. I violate the laws of the land without flinching. I set the wrong example for succeeding generations. I am surely the trouble with Nigeria I will not do ‘menial’ jobs in Nigeria, but can ‘hustle’ them when I get to ‘Yankee.’ I throw empty cans, fruit peels and food wrappings out of moving vehicles and wonder why the country is so dirty. I am the trouble with Nigeria. I follow after God and obey His word but only in the parts that are convenient for me. I have ready excuses for all of my failings and live in denial over my own contribution to ‘the package.’ I wear a mask going through my day; here a smile, there a grin, but none of them ankle-deep. I take living as a winner-grab-all game: ‘you are not smart when you lose!’ I am the trouble with Nigeria. I have relatives and kinsmen who I know and have ample evidence of the fact that they are currently looting and despoiling our national patrimony. And rather than reprimand or distance myself from them, I ogle up to them, fawn over them and encourage them to ‘go on soun’ in the hope that as they grab more, some of the spoils would ‘drop for me.’ ‘Is it not our turn?’ ‘Fada!’ I am the trouble with Nigeria. I can recite the litany of problems with the country even without being prompted. They are right here on my palm! I know when they started and how to end them. Trouble is, I am not ready, and will do nothing to begin to practically reverse them; one step at a time. I am truly the trouble with Nigeria but could also be the solution if I want to. It has been my choice this far, and it still is even as I pen this confessional. (Boy, am I already feeling better with this load off my chest!) *Initially published on: http://www.hallmarknews.com/i-am-the-trouble-with-nigeria-yes-i-am/