I have never been more proud to be a Nigerian.
Twenty-four years ago, I was displaced from my homeland of Nigeria at a time in my life when I had probably just gained comfort in walking on my two feet. I was not even three years old when I left, accompanied by my heart-faced baby sister and my mother who was determined to create a good life for us in the United States of America.
But in America, I would always wonder about the family and the people I had left behind on the other side of the ocean. What do they dream about? What games do they like to play? These sort of questions tumbled in my mind over the years. But now, a powerful turn of events has brought me closer to the people I left behind.
When the federal administration of President Goodluck Ebele Jonathan removed the fuel subsidy on New Year’s Day with immediate effect, Nigerians did not take it lying down, and thank God they did not.
In a country where more than 60 percent of citizens are living in extreme poverty (according to the latest figures from Nigeria’s National Bureau of Statistics), too many people go to bed hungry only to wake the next day to begin the exhausting, often-humiliating hunt for solid food and some of those hunters, as we are well familiar, graduated from a university. They carry degrees in accounting, education, statistics, and more.
They’ve also matriculated through the School of Hardship and Hard Knocks, having earned certificates in how to survive, how to cope, how to ignore sharp stomach pains induced by panging hunger, how to “shuffer and shmile,” as Fela Kuti would say.
Nigerians have suffered and smiled for far, far too long. Throughout the years, a preposterously unreasonable amount of time has been wasted suffering and smiling instead of protesting and demanding. I’ve always been flabbergasted with this rating of Nigerians as the “happiest people in the world.” No one can deny that Nigerians are a positive set of people, but “the happiest in the world?” Why so? When the legislative body and public authorities continue to loot billions upon billions of naira? When millions of women are still dying in labor and childbirth because health clinics and hospitals lack the most basic necessities? When thousands of intelligent Nigerians are working abroad as medical doctors, engineers, professors and CEOs just because they are terrified by the possibility of being killed in Nigeria? When an oil-rich nation is still importing fuel at the expense of people who live everyday without constant electricity in an increasingly insecure environment? The suffering and smiling of our people is a deep-rooted tree that needs to be chopped.
And the chopping has already begun…
Nigerians of the “Occupy” movement shoved their way to the forefront of progressive change, and I followed, witnessing the unfurling of the movement on YouTube, Twitter and Facebook. Al Jazeera, Sahara Reporters, and CNN.
I’ve watched the videos, viewed the photos, and even attended some of the demonstrations here in the United States. And I must confess that the swelling of my heart, the tingle in my toes, the curl in my lips are telltale symptoms of my national pride.
I have never been more proud to be a Nigerian.
As Prof. Wole Soyinka stated on SaharaTV: “We are witnessing a historic unfolding of events.” As the American civil rights activist Fannie Lou Hamer would put it: you have to be “sick and tired of being sick and tired!”
I have never been more proud to be a Nigerian.
Because at one point, I began to hear people wonder if being a Nigerian is a “curse” in itself even while I had always thought it to be a “blessing.” I began to wonder if the balkanization of the country would, perhaps, be the best medicine to ail the myriads of sicknesses plaguing Nigeria. I began to wonder if my children’s children’s children’s children will ever have the chance to live in a safe and economically viable Nigeria.
But: Nigerians are speaking out, occupying to push for Nigeria to become one nation bound in freedom, peace and unity, where the 99 percent can live without intimidation. No surrender, no retreat! Aluta continua.
Nigerians who “Occupy”: you are the source of my pride. Victoria e certa. “Arise, O compatriots, Nigeria’s call obey.”
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Nigeria Occupies This Heart of Mine
Posted by Chika Oduah on March 19, 2012 at 5:16 pmI have never been more proud to be a Nigerian.
Twenty-four years ago, I was displaced from my homeland of Nigeria at a time in my life when I had probably just gained comfort in walking on my two feet. I was not even three years old when I left, accompanied by my heart-faced baby sister and my mother who was determined to create a good life for us in the United States of America.
But in America, I would always wonder about the family and the people I had left behind on the other side of the ocean. What do they dream about? What games do they like to play? These sort of questions tumbled in my mind over the years. But now, a powerful turn of events has brought me closer to the people I left behind.
When the federal administration of President Goodluck Ebele Jonathan removed the fuel subsidy on New Year’s Day with immediate effect, Nigerians did not take it lying down, and thank God they did not.
In a country where more than 60 percent of citizens are living in extreme poverty (according to the latest figures from Nigeria’s National Bureau of Statistics), too many people go to bed hungry only to wake the next day to begin the exhausting, often-humiliating hunt for solid food and some of those hunters, as we are well familiar, graduated from a university. They carry degrees in accounting, education, statistics, and more.
They’ve also matriculated through the School of Hardship and Hard Knocks, having earned certificates in how to survive, how to cope, how to ignore sharp stomach pains induced by panging hunger, how to “shuffer and shmile,” as Fela Kuti would say.
Nigerians have suffered and smiled for far, far too long. Throughout the years, a preposterously unreasonable amount of time has been wasted suffering and smiling instead of protesting and demanding. I’ve always been flabbergasted with this rating of Nigerians as the “happiest people in the world.” No one can deny that Nigerians are a positive set of people, but “the happiest in the world?” Why so? When the legislative body and public authorities continue to loot billions upon billions of naira? When millions of women are still dying in labor and childbirth because health clinics and hospitals lack the most basic necessities? When thousands of intelligent Nigerians are working abroad as medical doctors, engineers, professors and CEOs just because they are terrified by the possibility of being killed in Nigeria? When an oil-rich nation is still importing fuel at the expense of people who live everyday without constant electricity in an increasingly insecure environment? The suffering and smiling of our people is a deep-rooted tree that needs to be chopped.
And the chopping has already begun…
Nigerians of the “Occupy” movement shoved their way to the forefront of progressive change, and I followed, witnessing the unfurling of the movement on YouTube, Twitter and Facebook. Al Jazeera, Sahara Reporters, and CNN.
I’ve watched the videos, viewed the photos, and even attended some of the demonstrations here in the United States. And I must confess that the swelling of my heart, the tingle in my toes, the curl in my lips are telltale symptoms of my national pride.
I have never been more proud to be a Nigerian.
As Prof. Wole Soyinka stated on SaharaTV: “We are witnessing a historic unfolding of events.” As the American civil rights activist Fannie Lou Hamer would put it: you have to be “sick and tired of being sick and tired!”
I have never been more proud to be a Nigerian.
Because at one point, I began to hear people wonder if being a Nigerian is a “curse” in itself even while I had always thought it to be a “blessing.” I began to wonder if the balkanization of the country would, perhaps, be the best medicine to ail the myriads of sicknesses plaguing Nigeria. I began to wonder if my children’s children’s children’s children will ever have the chance to live in a safe and economically viable Nigeria.
But: Nigerians are speaking out, occupying to push for Nigeria to become one nation bound in freedom, peace and unity, where the 99 percent can live without intimidation. No surrender, no retreat! Aluta continua.
Nigerians who “Occupy”: you are the source of my pride. Victoria e certa. “Arise, O compatriots, Nigeria’s call obey.”