Who is Nigeria?

It seems really tough not to be intimidated by the difference in our quest for excellence. As I walked through the Washington Dulles Airport designed by Eero Saarinen, built in the 60s, I felt almost depressed, because the skylights were clean, the tension steel cables looked brand new, and strong, the floors gleemed, and all the escalators worked. Then I thought with sadness about my vehicle, which always has water marks, even though my driver and security guard say they have cleaned it. The water collecting in puddles in my yard every time it rains, not swept away by someone's fastidiousness. Left to grow algae. The puddles collecting in the first place because the driveway is unevenly paved. The paint smears on my tile skirting that haunt me each day I walk in my door. I must get someone to clean it up. It can seem discouraging, this settling for less. Can it be that we as a people cannot see these details, can it be that we are wired differently? Or is it conditioning? If it is conditioning? Then who conditioned the people in the West? Whose job is it to condition 170 million people?

My thoughts return to the airport. The Murtala Muhammed International Airport, Lagos fills me with great sadness each time I arrive home. I know I should be grateful that the escalators are working today. But for how long? The newly laid granite tiles that are unsealed, already staining, the hideous cream and blue seats, line the dank boarding gate areas, with green aluminium ceiling slats. Can we not see that the colours don’t work? Can we not see that the tiles are uneven and the gate areas are dark? Even if one cannot tell the reason why our airports look shabby, surely one must know that there is a difference.

The more I think about it, the more I realize that the problem is that those effecting the changes do not know better. It must be so, otherwise, why would someone be commissioned to put POP moulding decorative moulding on the modern addition to the airport? However, I am also realizing that this is my airport. I own it as much as anyone else walking through its halls. Why should I cringe every time I come home?  Why shrug and walk away in apathy, resigned to the sad conclusion that this is Nigeria. Who is Nigeria? Is it not you and I? But the airport does not reflect me. It does not reflect many people who walk through it, and resign themselves to the "Nigerian State of things". I am Nigeria. You are Nigeria. If you feel this state of affairs does not reflect you, then you need to do something. Who is writing the Nigerian story? Who are the main characters? Who is the audience? Through an awakened consciousness, we must wrestle for the soul of Nigeria and each become the principal actors or at least play a supporting role, or move props. Whatever it is, but do something to change the story. Only you have that power. When you remain in the audience in resignation, watching as others take your cue, you are letting others write the Nigerian story. You are muzzling yourself and ceding your right to a great place to call home. Do something today. You are Nigeria. Change the Nigerian story.