Manifesto for the Nigerian Youth

MANIFESTO FOR THE MODERN NIGERIAN YOUTH

Nigeria ails.

Not from spasms of violence and havoc of all sorts wreaked across the land in the name of whatever cause suits the day. Not the thieving political classes that gorge themselves fat from the blood, sweat and tears of the masses. Not from the countless unqualified servants in the public sector who oil the wheels of corruption, cavorting in bribery while infrastructure collapses all around them. Not from the press who have sold out truth and principles for the leash of vested interest, tribal sentiment and cold hard cash. Not from our security agencies, who at best stand idly by while miscreants unleash civil war upon the land, or worse, are the very agents of mayhem themselves. Not from our religious leaders, who say one thing in public, while in secret they embrace the exact opposite, comfortable in the belief their deeds are hidden from all. Not from the judiciary, the so called ‘last hope for the common man’, where justice is up for sale to the highest bidder and court decisions are more laughable by the day. Friends, Nigeria ails, and the aforementioned are but symptoms of a far deeper lying malaise: an absolute lack of values.

Where we have grown to know the stoic and stiff upper lipped Briton, the efficient German, the unbowed Jew, the passionate Mediterranean, and the patriotic American, we can now add another thoroughly deserved stereotype; the corrupt Nigerian. One who would lower himself to any deed for a price. One who would spurn common good in the wanton pursuit of wealth; sell off his loved ones a thousand times over for a contract, flaunt stolen funds in the most lavish and debauched manner while their countrymen live in squalor.

Friends, Nigeria fell ill the moment we decided public office was more of an opportunity to aggrandize wealth and pilfer funds than a chance to serve the people who elected us. The very moment the contents of a man’s pockets became more important than the quality of his character, we lost our moral compass. The moment we placed a premium on short-term opportunism, as opposed to permanent long-term goals, we lost it big time. The moment our leaders failed to harness our major potential during the 70s oil boom, but chose to empower a kleptocratic ruling class with the resources to further plunder the country. The Guardian (UK Edition) estimates the total amount embezzled from Nigerian state coffers at a mind-boggling 200 billion pounds sterling. Imagine if that cash had been funneled into the educational sector, or into building and improving our refineries, or even into boosting our agricultural potential or even into sports academies and stadia or theatres, anything but festering away in foreign bank accounts. Recently the papers were awash with the news that certain oil companies had allegedly defrauded the nation of hundreds of billions of naira. These are sums of money that would drive an accountant insane, literally, certifiably, stark raving mad. Is there really no limit to our greed? A friend commented after the Dana air crash that corruption has literally begun to kill us. In time past, the link between corruption and the fate of Nigerians may have been murky or tenuous, but no longer. Corruption has begun to indiscriminately murder us.

But what then is our response? What do we do now, after raking over the painful coals of our country’s ills and woes?

Shall we launch our own version of the Arab Spring, camp out in public squares and arenas and chant until the government is brought to its knees? Unlikely, considering Nigerians’ distaste for long-term inconvenience or discomfort. After all, labour strikes in Nigeria follow a well-defined pattern; total shut down for about three days, then on the fourth or fifth day a ‘compromise’ is reached between the government and the rotund, fresh-faced leaders of labour, and it’s business as usual. Shall we take our chances in the courts of law? Good luck with that, considering the near impossibility of finding worthwhile evidence against the powerful, especially in Nigeria. Even if you are blessed enough to have your day in court, what are the odds that the judge deciding your case has not been compromised?  I propose something far more subtle and yet far reaching; continuous and relentless self education. Become a human black hole for information; analyze every syllable that proceeds from our leaders’ mouths and scrutinize everything you read in the papers. Admit that you are biased; not to worry, everyone is, but at least strive for objectivity in your dealings. If you get a chance to study abroad, grab it with both hands. If you get a chance to learn something new, get a new experience, don’t dawdle; go for it. The world and especially this nation owe us nothing. Of course Nigeria has suffered more than her fair share of poor leadership and blatant thievery, and perhaps the knee-jerk reaction would be a loud and vocal revolution, a call to arms as it were. I dare you to do one better: make something of yourself, become the kind of person that cannot be ignored, shut down or shut up: a force to be reckoned with. Thus you will not need the loudest voice to be heard, but you will be blessed with the best criteria of all: relevance. After all who would you rather listen to; a raving has-been complaining about the ills of the country or the success story who made it despite said ills? Credibility, or at least what passes for it in our country is the currency of power. It is not enough to possess a fat bank account or a famous surname; you must have the courage to do what is necessary. And believe me; we will all need courage in the days ahead. Let us ask of no man, woman or child what we cannot do ourselves. But if we are steadfast, we will make a better, greater country.

This revolution will definitely not be televised, nor will it be emblazoned across the Internet. The revolution will begin with you. The country will change when we ourselves begin to change. It is ludicrous to expect a national paradigm shift when we are unprepared to make any sacrifices of any kind. Begin with the little things; keeping your word, showing up on time, keeping your environment (and person) clean, do the job for which you are paid, don’t pretend to work. Let us pay heed to the little changes, I assure you, the large changes will take care of themselves. There are no quick fixes in life; nothing that’s worth it ever comes without a sacrifice. Let us no longer be deceived by silver tongued politicians who promise much but deliver little. Let us not be swayed by thieves who seek to plunder our coffers under the cover of religious or ethnic idealism. The time has come to act, think and believe for ourselves; in our fathers’ time, our country degenerated from a potential economic and military firepower to an international basket case. What will our children say about us?