NIGERIA MY GREAT FATHERLAND. . .
Nigeria my great fatherland, when you turned 57 on 1st October in 2017, I thought to myself. . .
Here she is aging gracefully with most of her natural resources still in their state of creation.
Her human resources largely unexploited… Her Virgin lands extending to the coast of the basin in the Peninsula.
She is heavily pregnant with so much good yet for 57 years she is still trying to be delivered of the child of her liberation.
Year in year out, she moans and groans in excruciating pain, the labour pangs of this child taking so long to come.
She is pale, tired and weak from turmoil; the works of her disenchanted members.
She stands divided and torn within herself, giving in to the forces that have always threatened her liberty.
More and more she tries to gain the strength to break free from the compromising position of bondage.
Yet, she finds herself always back at the same spot where bad leadership has imprisoned her for years on ending…
Then you turned 60, three years later on 1st October 2020 and again, I thought to myself. . .
Estranged by colonialism,
Liberated by nationalism..
1960 finally saw the birth of a new era, an era filled with so much optimism stroded in virtues and embraced with an open mind. . .
At a time when people stood together and believed in the strenght of a diverse heritage..
Creating oneness as a theme for a people so blessed in human and natural resources.
Gradually, her vision began to blur and her mission started to fall apart, leaving a once vibrant and promising nation as a mere show of shame and ridicule.
Nigeria my great fatherland,
You who were once the pride of Africa,
You were referred to as the giant of Africa..
You who played the big brother role to your African brothers..
You who was feared by the West because of your undeniable potentials..
Today, you are torn along lines, ideologies and different kinds of sentiments. . .
Fighting one another has become your greatest undoing. .
You made fertile imperialism, the latest tool of the west to perpetually put you under control, a position that crept up while you were busy being consumed by your divide..
At 60 you still struggle with the basics like a child in Creche..
You have been pitched against yourself, as the spirit of oneness has long been replaced by individualism, ethnic, religious and psychological lines . . . a manipulation of the West.
At 60, the dream of good leadership still remains an illusion.
The people constantly being crushed under the weight of poverty, insecurities and the disenchanted tales of an ideal reality.