Can Nigeria rise again?
By Rekpene Bassey
The question of Nigeria’s resurgence, once a whisper in introspection, now echoes louder in the collective consciousness.
A recent post on Sam Eno’s Facebook page epitomised this concern: “From Ugep to Calabar and back, 20K. Enough to buy four Peugeot 504 cars in 1976,” he lamented.
This juxtaposition of past and present stirred the depths of reflection, drawing attention to the nation’s economic and sociological descent.
Ugep, a historic town in Cross River State, once lay but an hour’s journey from Calabar at a steady pace of 100km/h. Today, the same trip stretches beyond three hours, mirroring the wear and neglect woven into the nation’s infrastructure.
The burden of burgeoning increases in the cost of transportation due to the high cost of fuel and the deteriorating network of roads, among other factors, stands as a metaphor for the broader decline in national progress.
Indeed, nearly half a century has elapsed since 1976, when education was almost free, a brand-new Peugeot 504 was obtainable for N5000, and the naira held its own against the dollar at $1 = N0.62. Then, a return ticket from Lagos to London costs N400, while a graduate earns between N250 and N350 monthly, a sum sufficient to rent a comfortable three-bedroom flat under N750 per annum.
Contrast that with today: a loaf of bread sells for over N2000—almost the equivalent of the price for a cheaper new luxury car in the 1970s. The staggering erosion of value defies mere numbers; it speaks of a national identity diluted, a promise deferred. Chinua Achebe, the literary giant, captured this succinctly in his seminal work THERE WAS A COUNTRY—a title echoing the collective nostalgia of a people who once stood tall.
What happened to us? What shadows have so thoroughly dimmed our once radiant light? Once a beacon of pride for the black world, Nigeria now languishes in the grip of systemic corruption and a leadership deficit. Like Ezekiel’s valley of dry bones, the nation lies inert, its vibrancy seemingly sapped. Yet, as the prophet’s vision reminds us, dry bones can rise again with divine intervention and human will.
Heraclitus, the ancient Greek philosopher, reminds us: “No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it is not the same river, and he is not the same man.” Indeed, Nigeria, too, has been transformed by the tides of history. The optimism that accompanied independence in 1960, the hopes kindled by nationalist movements, have been tempered by decades of disillusionment.
Oil wealth, meant to be a divine blessing, has too often served as a curse, fuelling avarice, cronyism, and monumental mismanagement.
The consequences are unmistakable. A nation endowed with vast natural wealth, a vibrant culture, and a resilient people now struggles to provide even the most basic amenities. The consistent collapse of the National Electricity grid exemplifies such struggles. The infrastructure, once the envy of the continent, decays.
The educational system, which once produced intellectual luminaries, now leaves graduates ill-prepared for global competition. Healthcare, a fundamental right, remains a luxury for the privileged few.
When available, electricity flickers unreliably like the dying embers of a once-blazing flame, particularly in rural areas.
The Nigerian landscape tells a tale of neglect, where dreams have been deferred and national ambition stifled by decades of mismanagement.
Yet within this bleak tableau, faint glimmers of hope persist.
The Nigerian spirit, weathered but unbroken, testifies to human resilience. The average citizen continues to navigate adversity with extraordinary tenacity. Armed with the unyielding tools of technology and collective consciousness, the youth have begun to challenge the status quo, demanding accountability and justice.
As we ponder Nigeria’s potential for rebirth, we must reflect on leadership. Friedrich Nietzsche once declared, “You must have chaos within you to give birth to a dancing star.” True, but the chaos must be confronted, not concealed. It must be harnessed into transformative energy, not left to corrode the national fabric.
Leadership is the compass of a nation’s destiny, yet Nigeria has too often favored personal gain over public service. Establishing institutions like the Economic and Financial Crimes Commission (EFCC) and the Independent Corrupt Practices Commission (ICPC) signals a recognition of these struggles. Yet, their efforts remain but a ripple in the tide of systemic failure.
The fight against corruption must transcend token measures and become a relentless moral campaign.
For Nigeria to rise again, mere rhetoric will not suffice. A reawakening demands ethical leadership, leadership rooted in integrity, sacrificial service, and the will to prioritize public welfare above personal gain. Education, healthcare, and infrastructure must cease being mere campaign buzzwords and be restored as fundamental rights.
Aristotle’s philosopher offers a profound truth: “We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, then, is not an act but a habit.” Nigeria’s resurgence demands not sporadic efforts but a culture of sustained excellence, a deliberate commitment to confronting the ghosts of the past while forging a brighter destiny.
As we meander this arduous path, our cultural wisdom beckons us forward. The Yoruba proverb, Bi o ti koja, o koja lorun—”If you ascend to the heavens, you will still meet your nemesis,” reminds us that greatness cannot be conjured from mere aspirations. It demands perseverance, ethical courage, and the will to confront uncomfortable truths. The Hausa interpretation of that is: Idan ka tashi zuwa sama, har yanzu za ka hadu da maƙiyi. It conveys the same message as the original phrase, which in Igbo reads: Ọ bụrụ na ị pụọ n’eluigwe, ị ga-akọwa onye ị na-achọ.
The restoration of Nigeria’s greatness must be anchored in a national reawakening where collective responsibility supersedes selfish ambition. It will require leaders who inspire and citizens who hold them accountable. Only through a fusion of total commitment to moral clarity and civic participation can the nation rise from its current depths.
Ultimately, a nation’s soul is not measured solely by its wealth or natural resources but by the character of its people and the depth of its moral vision. Nigeria must rediscover the ethos of community, accountability, and shared purpose. We must cultivate a national consciousness where leadership is seen not as personal aggrandizement but as a sacred trust.
Can Nigeria rise again? The answer lies not in the abstract but within us. Not in the stars but in our collective will. As Christopher Okigbo said, “The rain will fall, the thunder will sound, but the sun will shine again.” Shine it must—if only we chose to kindle that light together.
*Rekpene Bassey is the President of the African Council on Narcotics (ACON) and an expert in security and drug prevention.
