Opinion

Being Nigerian And Its Contradictions

Published

2 years ago

April 10, 2024

On the average, Nigeria is good. Its people are a bunch of good bananas: only a few rotten ones give the whole bunch a bad look and that particular rotten smell. Nigeria ideally is one of the best places to live in. It is not a police State like so-called Western democracies. In Nigeria, you can urinate anywhere and not get fined or arrested, you can get a ladder and climb the power poles and effect a change of power phases. That is, if the problem is not from the nearby power transformer which anybody can repair with dry wood. In Nigeria, you can set traps inside your compound and catch birds and roast them to taste and not be afraid that you are at Piccadilly Square in the UK with some stern-looking cops harassing you for animal rights violation. We still beat kids with cane despite having parents that want to be more European than Europeans.
We as a nation need to restore national pride: a lot of us have lost hope in the system, the structure, the leadership. With each passing day, it is becoming obvious that Nigeria may be just an empty plastic cup, too light to hold a cup of coffee cold or hot. There are enough solutions to Nigeria’s multi-dimensional and hydra-headed problems, enough to fill an American Congressional Library, well prepared by committees, panels, commissions and bodies of experts. Name the field or area and I will refer you to a paper, a report that should ordinarily have solved that problem a long time ago. For example, how many times have we removed subsidies without removing subsidies?
What happened to Vision 2010? I was writing this in 2008. By then we were working on a vision 2056 for constant electricity supply and it is 2024 now. Alas, we still lack vision of who we are and what we want to be in terms of electricity. A committee like that with a long name was supposed to provide palliative measures due to the rise in petroleum prices, till date it died a natural death. It is another 15 years and we are not only discussing palliatives but looting them with reckless abandon that our students die in stampedes for them. There have been reports upon reports that if properly handled would have made Nigeria number one in most things, if not everything.
In recent times, we have been reminded of the successes of Malaysia, a success that was championed and achieved simply because of purposeful leadership; leadership that had the confidence of the governed.
That leadership brought about economic prosperity, industrial strength, intellectual pride and dynamism. We have discussed Singapore and for us the only thing that has poured is how our best brains and not so best have become caregivers in the UK and pouring into Canada and other places that were nowhere in the map of economic discussion only two/three decades earlier. When a nation barely commits one percent of its GDP on education, it will have a poor university system. We all weep at the situation but no one really thinks about how we can have national competitiveness when the level of investment in human capital is abysmally low.
A new Nigeria cannot unfold, with fast paced infrastructural development, rapid push in human resource development, healthcare delivery, when the numerous universities and polytechnics enrol almost two million students yearly and graduate around 600,000 people, out of which 95 percent are unemployable. Today’s Nigeria lacks education, health and development. With all the wealth, we are breeding terrorists, frustrated young men, sad mothers, senior citizens that daily curse the nation because we have refused to give them their dues. Is it not intriguing that this is Nigeria, the rich, poor, and everybody cry and laugh almost at the same time; the difference is the swing of the pendulum. Being a Nigerian requires a tricky trait, despite the Soyinkas, Achebes, Anyaokus, Maitamas, Balewas, Ziks, Awos, Sardaunas, and many, too numerous to call. There is a distinction between being a Nigerian and wanting to be a Nigerian. The Nigerian big man makes a law, those wanting to be Nigerian or already big men proceed immediately to look for a way to break the law, exploring loopholes and escape clauses like the Immunity clause used for stealing. Ordinary citizens do it their own way; they jump queues with no excuse, they do u-turns on an expressway, stop in the middle of the road to say hello to a long-lost friend without parking. Correct them, and they will abuse your dog. Who wants to be a Nigerian? It takes a lot. You have to be noisy, music is not danceable if it is not loud; big is sweet and good. How can one understand the Nigerian and want to be one, when in power he loves affluence and will do anything to stay-put. In religious matters, he will fake it; in business, his cheques will bounce. In the civil service forget the noise of ‘servicom’, your files will miss and only reappear at the right price. A Nigerian will ban the importation of lace fabrics, yet his wives, concubines and mistresses will die the day they cannot wear one.
In Nigeria, you need to understand how a complainant can suddenly become a suspect and in the end a witness, yet still land in jail for a crime that was committed against him. The pain of this essay when it was originally written is that despite all the exhaustive bad traits that we battle every day, Nigerians abound in their millions that want to be Nigerians for the right reasons. And it still has not changed.
Those Nigerians are not easily understood because they will not give bribes, all their actions are in line with tradition, society’s good norms and rationality. They are old now and most times reside in rural areas, although a few still stay in urban areas. They are generally good and detribalised; they believe in the principle of live and let live. These Nigerians are neither the bottom power women nor the moneybag men. They strive daily to remain patriotic and committed to the Nigerian dream despite the reality, they are disciplined and are hardworking, and they battle the stark reality that as patient dogs they may never have any bone left. These Nigerians suffer from the Nigerian experiment because of the larger majority’s inability to curb greed, and to be fair and rational towards other people’s perspectives, opinions, positions and interests. Our monetised society too has done more harm than good to us. Do you now understand Nigeria, are you a Nigerian, do you want to be a Nigerian?.

Charles Dickson
Dickson, PhD, is Team Lead, The Tattaunawa Roundtable Initiative.

Opinion

Curbing Youth Unemployment In Nigeria

Published

2 days ago

March 30, 2026

The Tide

Quote: “A nation that fails to empower its youth risks mortgaging its future.”

Youth, generally defined as individuals between the ages of 15 and 35, represent a critical phase of human development—a transition from adolescence to adulthood marked by ambition, energy, and the pursuit of purpose. In Nigeria, this demographic constitutes a significant proportion of the population, making it one of the country’s greatest assets. However, this strength is increasingly undermined by a persistent and troubling challenge: youth unemployment.

Unemployment, the condition of being without gainful employment despite the willingness and ability to work, remains a major global concern. In Nigeria, however, it has reached alarming levels, particularly among young people. With estimates suggesting that a substantial percentage of Nigerian youth are either unemployed or underemployed, the consequences have become deeply embedded in the nation’s social and economic fabric.

The impact of youth unemployment is both widespread and severe. Economically, it leads to increased poverty levels and reduced productivity. Socially, it fuels frustration, hopelessness, and disillusionment among young people. This often manifests in rising rates of crime, cyber fraud, substance abuse, and involvement in political violence. When young people are unable to find legitimate means of livelihood, they may become vulnerable to negative influences, posing a threat not only to themselves but to society at large.

One of the primary drivers of youth unemployment in Nigeria is the inadequacy of the educational system. While many young Nigerians graduate from tertiary institutions each year, a significant number lack the practical and technical skills required in today’s job market. The disconnect between academic curricula and industry demands leaves graduates ill-prepared for employment, thereby widening the gap between education and employability.

Furthermore, Nigeria’s heavy dependence on the oil sector has contributed significantly to the unemployment crisis. Over the years, this reliance has led to the neglect of other critical sectors such as agriculture, manufacturing, and technology—sectors that have the potential to generate large-scale employment. The failure to diversify the economy has limited job opportunities and stifled innovation, leaving many young people without viable career paths.

In addition, rapid population growth continues to put immense pressure on the labor market. Each year, thousands of graduates enter the workforce, but the number of available jobs remains insufficient to absorb them. This imbalance creates intense competition for limited opportunities, leaving many qualified individuals unemployed for extended periods.

Access to finance also remains a major barrier for young Nigerians who wish to venture into entrepreneurship. Despite the creativity and entrepreneurial spirit that many youths possess, the lack of access to credit facilities, mentorship, and business support systems makes it difficult for them to establish and sustain their own enterprises. This challenge is further compounded by infrastructural deficits, such as unreliable power supply and limited access to technology.

Security challenges across various parts of the country have also worsened the situation. In some regions, economic hardship and lack of opportunities have made young people susceptible to recruitment into violent or extremist activities. This not only exacerbates insecurity but also diverts the energy of the youth away from productive engagement.

Addressing youth unemployment in Nigeria requires a comprehensive and collaborative approach. The government must take the lead by implementing policies that promote economic diversification, particularly by investing in agriculture, manufacturing, and the digital economy. These sectors hold immense potential for job creation and can absorb a large portion of the unemployed youth population.

Equally important is the reform of the educational system to emphasize skill acquisition, vocational training, and entrepreneurship. Schools and institutions must align their curricula with market needs, ensuring that graduates are equipped with relevant and practical skills. Public-private partnerships can play a vital role in facilitating internships, apprenticeships, and job placement programs.

The private sector also has a crucial role to play in driving job creation and innovation. By investing in youth-focused initiatives and supporting startups, businesses can help unlock the potential of young Nigerians. Additionally, financial institutions should develop more accessible and youth-friendly credit schemes to support small and medium-sized enterprises.

On an individual level, young people must embrace self-development, adaptability, and continuous learning. In an increasingly competitive and evolving global economy, acquiring digital skills, engaging in vocational training, and exploring entrepreneurial opportunities can significantly improve employability.

In conclusion, youth unemployment remains one of the most pressing challenges facing Nigeria today. However, it is not an insurmountable problem. With deliberate policies, strategic investments, and collective action from government, the private sector, and individuals, Nigeria can transform its youth population into a powerful engine of growth and development. By empowering young people with opportunities, skills, and resources, the nation can secure a more prosperous and stable future.

IVARA Favour Isaac is a student of Pan-African Institute of Management and Technology.

By: Ivara Favour Isaac

Opinion

Ozoro Festival: Tradition or Tyranny?

Published

2 days ago

March 30, 2026

The Tide

Quote:“These images are not merely disturbing; they represent a direct assault on human dignity, bodily autonomy, and the rule of law.”

In recent days, national attention has turned to the small community of Ozoro in Delta State, where what was once described as a cultural fertility rite—the Alue-Do Festival—has become the subject of outrage, grief, and urgent national reflection. According to accounts from notable indigenes of Ozoro and the Isoko ethnic group, the festival was originally conceived as a symbolic ritual intended to bless couples struggling with conception. In theory, it was meant to celebrate life, continuity, and communal identity. However, what reportedly unfolded on March 22 bore no resemblance to any noble cultural ideal. Videos circulating widely on social media show groups of men chasing women, forcibly stripping them, and subjecting them to sexual assault in public spaces. These images are not merely disturbing; they represent a direct assault on human dignity, bodily autonomy, and the rule of law.

They compel us to confront a difficult but necessary question: when does tradition cease to be culture and become tyranny? It is encouraging that prominent voices—including the First Lady, the Minister of Women Affairs, human rights organisations, and women’s advocacy groups—have condemned these barbaric acts. The Delta State Government has since banned the Alue-Do Festival, while law enforcement authorities have reportedly made arrests. Yet beyond the immediate outrage lies a deeper and more uncomfortable conversation—one that communities across the country must confront honestly: the thin line between culture and abuse. “Culture is not static—it evolves, or at least, it should.” Culture is often described as the soul of a people, encompassing traditions, beliefs, and practices passed down through generations. Nigeria is richly endowed with diverse cultural heritage, much of which we rightly celebrate.

However, when culture becomes a shield for harmful practices, it loses its moral authority. When actions that violate fundamental human rights are justified in the name of tradition, we must ask: whose culture is this, and at what cost? The events in Ozoro illustrate how a practice that may once have held symbolic meaning can devolve into something deeply harmful. Even if the Alue-Do Festival began as a benign fertility rite, its present manifestation—marked by violence and coercion—cannot be defended. “Culture must align with dignity, consent, and respect—anything less is not tradition, but abuse.” One of the most persistent arguments in defence of controversial practices is that they are “part of our heritage” and therefore beyond criticism. Yet harmful practices—child marriage, inhumane widowhood rites, and domestic abuse—have long been justified using this same reasoning. This argument is not only flawed; it is dangerous. No culture is above scrutiny, particularly when it endangers the rights and safety of its people.

History reminds us that many practices once considered “normal” are now widely condemned. Societies progress by questioning and reforming such practices—not by clinging to them. Nigeria is not exempt from this reality. As a nation governed by law and constitutional principles, we cannot afford to tolerate practices that undermine the rights of citizens—especially women. At the heart of the Ozoro incident lies a broader societal issue: the perception of women as objects rather than autonomous individuals. The actions of the perpetrators were not isolated—they were enabled by a mindset that sees women’s bodies as accessible, controllable, and, in some contexts, communal property. “Women are not possessions, prizes, or objects of exploitation—they are individuals with rights, agency, and dignity.” This mindset reflects a deeper systemic problem often described as “rape culture,” visible in victim-blaming narratives, the dismissal of harassment, and the silence that frequently surrounds abuse.

For meaningful change to occur, this mindset must be confronted directly. Parents, religious institutions, government agencies, and the media all have critical roles to play in reshaping societal attitudes. Traditional institutions also wield significant influence, particularly in rural communities. With that influence comes responsibility—not only to preserve culture but to ensure that cultural practices align with contemporary standards of human rights and decency.The reported denial by the Ovie of Ozoro Kingdom of knowledge of the recent festival raises important questions about oversight and accountability. Community leaders and members alike must rise to their responsibilities. Cultural practices are sustained by collective acceptance. Silence, indifference, or complicity only perpetuate harm. While cultural reform is essential, it must be accompanied by accountability. The arrests made in connection with the incident are a step in the right direction, but they must lead to tangible outcomes. “Justice must not only be done—it must be seen to be done.”

Allowing perpetrators of sexual violence to go unpunished sends a dangerous message—that such actions are tolerable. This fosters a culture of impunity. The law must be clear and unequivocal: sexual assault, in any form and under any guise, is a crime. It is not a cultural expression—it is a violation.It must be emphasised that calling for the abandonment of harmful cultural practices is not an attack on tradition, but a call to refine it. Culture, at its best, is dynamic—it adapts while preserving its core values.“Tradition should uplift, not oppress.” Modernising culture does not mean erasing identity. It means ensuring that traditions remain relevant, inclusive, and respectful of human dignity. As Nigeria continues to evolve, it must decide what kind of society it aspires to be: one that hides behind tradition to justify abuse, or one that embraces progress while honouring its heritage responsibly. The outrage over the events in Ozoro is justified—but outrage alone is not enough

. It must translate into action: legal, cultural, and educational. We must state, without ambiguity, that no tradition justifies the violation of human dignity. We must hold perpetrators accountable and challenge the attitudes that enable such acts. True development is measured not only by infrastructure or economic growth, but by how a society treats its most vulnerable members. “If a cultural practice dehumanises, degrades, or endangers, it has no place in a modern society.” Where tradition fails to uphold dignity, it ceases to be culture. It becomes tyranny.

By: Calista Ezeaku

Opinion

Bazia EXCO @ One: NUJ Rivers Reawakened

Published

1 week ago

March 23, 2026

The Tide

Quote: “For the first time in years, Rivers journalists are not just hearing promises—they are seeing a union that works.”

The first year in office of the Paul Bazia-led executive of the Nigeria Union of Journalists (NUJ), has offered something many had almost given up on—renewed confidence in union leadership. For a body as critical as the NUJ, whose responsibility goes beyond professional coordination to include the welfare, protection, and continuous development of journalists, expectations are always high. Unfortunately, past experiences had conditioned many members to expect less—less action, less visibility, and less impact.This is why the past twelve months stand out. Within a relatively short period, the Bazia-led administration has demonstrated a level of drive that distinguishes it from its predecessors. There is a noticeable shift from inertia to activity, from routine administration to purposeful leadership. Initiatives captured in the one-year report point to an executive that understands both the urgency of its mandate and the frustrations of its members.

Particularly commendable is the renewed attention to journalists’ welfare. For too long, welfare issues have lingered without meaningful resolution, leaving many practitioners feeling unsupported. The current leadership’s efforts—through engagement, structured support, and timely interventions—signal a welcome change in priorities. Equally important is the push toward professional development. In an era where journalism is rapidly evolving, capacity building is no longer optional. The administration’s commitment to training and skill enhancement reflects an understanding that a stronger union must be built on more competent and competitive professionals. There is also something to be said about visibility and voice. A vibrant NUJ must not only serve its members internally but also stand as a credible voice in the public space—defending press freedom, promoting ethical standards, and constructively engaging critical issues.

Encouragingly, the current executive appears more present and responsive, giving the union a renewed sense of relevance. Perhaps what resonates most, however, is the sense of movement. For many members, the difference between the present and the immediate past is not subtle—it is clear. Where there was once stagnation, there is now direction. Where there was doubt, there is growing belief. Beyond the visible strides recorded within this first year, what perhaps deserves even greater applause is the restoration of institutional confidence within the Nigeria Union of Journalists. For a long time, many members had grown disenchanted, viewing the union more as a ceremonial body than an active force capable of defending their interests and advancing their welfare. That narrative, however, is gradually changing. The Bazia-led executive has not only initiated programs but has also rekindled a sense of belonging among members.

Meetings appear more purposeful, engagements more intentional, and decisions more reflective of collective interest. This psychological shift—subtle as it may seem—is one of the most critical achievements of the past year, because a union that its members believe in is already halfway to effectiveness. It is also important to underscore the contrast with the immediate past, not as an exercise in criticism, but as a necessary context for measuring progress. Where previous administrations struggled to translate plans into action, the current leadership has shown a greater bias for execution. Projects that once lingered in discussion stages are now seeing tangible movement, and issues that were previously deferred are receiving attention. This difference in approach—moving from prolonged deliberation to decisive action—has helped reposition the union as a more responsive and relevant institution.

While no administration is without its shortcomings, the willingness to act, even in the face of constraints, marks a significant departure from what members were accustomed to. Looking ahead, the expectations of members—and indeed the wider public—will only grow stronger. With a solid first year behind it, the Bazia-led executive now carries the burden of consistency. Members will expect deeper welfare interventions that go beyond immediate relief to more sustainable support systems. They will look for expanded training opportunities that prepare journalists for the rapidly changing media landscape. They will also expect a firmer, more courageous voice on issues affecting press freedom and professional integrity. Above all, they will demand continuity—assurance that the progress recorded so far is not a fleeting phase but the beginning of a sustained transformation.

Meeting these expectations will not be easy, but it is precisely this challenge that defines enduring leadership. That said, this moment of applause must also serve as a moment of reflection. A strong first year inevitably raises expectations. Journalists in Rivers State will now look beyond initial achievements toward consolidation. Welfare interventions must become more structured and far-reaching. Training programs must be sustained and expanded. Advocacy must become more consistent and impactful. Most importantly, the unity of the union must be strengthened, ensuring that all members feel included and carried along. Transparency will also be key. Continued open communication about finances, decisions, and challenges will deepen trust and set a standard for accountable union leadership. The task ahead is clear: to convert early momentum into lasting institutional progress.

For the Bazia-led executive, the opportunity is significant. It has, within one year, reawakened belief in what the NUJ Rivers State Council can be. The next step is to ensure that this renewed energy does not fade, but instead becomes the foundation of a stronger, more responsive, and more respected union. For the members, the message is equally clear—expect more, demand more, and support what works because in the end, a vibrant union is not built by leadership alone, but by a collective commitment to progress. And for now, under Bazia, that progress has truly begun.

By: Sylvia ThankGod-Amadi