I do love my country. I do cherish her rich heritage and culture. I appreciate its citizens — special people we most definitely are. I love being black — the Nigerian kind of black. I adore moments when we make history and set the rest of the world thinking. I like it when against all odds, something good comes out of our Jerusalem. Nigeria; great people, great nation.
The beauty and creativity of Nigerians around the world cannot be forgotten. Like us or not, we don’t care. We like ourselves more than anything in the world.
But there lies the problem? Yes, I think. We’re loved by ourselves, just ourselves. We’ve put the golden rule, “love your neighbors as yourself” behind us. Gradually, we lost it, we let the ones we blindly chose to blindly lead us into the ditch. Into the ditch of uncertainties, terror and confusion.
No one seems to be getting it right, even though the rest of the world knows deep within them how great we can be. Our youths are lost, the elders are stale, the babies are well… babies. They are ignorant. Nothing is working, even though everyone is busy. Being active really should not be confused with being successful.
Oh! Blessed country that you are, in all resources thinkable. How can you tap into your hidden wealth and prove to the rest of the world in this perplexed state of yours? Blessed but wretched, wretched but blessed; that’s how bewildered you can be.
But I promise you. Oh, I promise you my dearly beloved black nation. I shall do my part. I shall provide my own piece of the puzzle to fix up the big picture we all desire.