#Letters — Where do we go from here?
Some personal thoughts on the aftermath of the Nigerian Elections.
[Warning!! I am not promising you that this will make you feel good. Kindly read with caution.]
Dear friend,
Where do we go from here?
It has been a rough couple of days. I do not think I have felt this much emotional upheaval in a while — from hope to elation; shock to anger, heartbreak to indifference — all within a space of a few days.
Do you remember the last Nigeria-themed letter I wrote to you? It was after the events of 20–10–2020. See, just like you, I had hoped that this will usher in a new resolve in Nigerians — one that will push us to stand for the change we want and deserve; and for a moment it seems like we were getting there, just for a moment.
In the past few days, I’ve wondered if I still have any faith left in Nigeria. Just hold up, let me finish…
I know that as believers our faith ought to be steadfast, however, how long does one have to keep believing, especially when it seems like any iota of intermittent hope is always being sniffed out by the powers that be with increasing vigor?
“Nigeria has a way of draining its citizens. We get knocked down, time and time again, and we still keep getting back up. It is the Naija spirit: we have learned to be resilient and creative, not because it is a virtue, but as a way to adapt to the ever-increasing hardship placed on us by some evil forces.”
Some people say there is a silver lining in all of these events that have transpired — that this is a game changer in our democracy, and that the people as the Office of the Citizen, are beginning to realize the power they wield (for context, some “career politician” who sees the Senate as a retirement home have finally been retired to their village instead).
Perhaps they are right, but I am not so sure anymore. The evil in Nigeria seems to be of an unimaginable breed. It is so inexplicably erratic that when you think you have conquered a facet, it metamorphosed into something else — like a mutant hydra with devilish heads.
But in everything, I find solace in one universal truth: ”Evil, no matter how complex it is, is only temporary; Good will always prevail.”
Perhaps, the time will come soon, when this truth will be prevalent in Nigeria.
What Happened to Our Payers?
A lot of people prayed. I did, and I believe you did also, and for a split second, we thought the answer was in front of us. So, what happened?
Frankly, I do not know. I am still searching for answers myself.
But one thing I know is that we cannot fully comprehend the nature of God and how He works, at times when we are in the most doubt, at our lowest point, that is when His faith shines brightest
“If we give up on him, he does not give up — for there’s no way he can be false to himself.”
- 2Tim. 2:14 MSG
I have shared with my close circle what I got concerning this past election, and I listened to and read the revelation of a few others as well, so believe me when I say nothing makes sense.
That being said, while we look for answers, it is crucial to continue in this faith — to repeat these basic essentials over and over to [ourselves] — God’s ways are not our ways, and he will always stay true to his promises, even if it happens in ways we will never understand.
“I and my family will be okay.”
I have heard too many Christians say this in the aftermath of the elections. I do not know if it is a way to deflect from their pain and disappointment with religious rhetoric, or just plain denial.
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But I find myself thinking about this more and more, (fittingly so while in church). I believe in supernatural provisions, I believe in divine intervention, in fact, I live it, and I know it to be true.
However, I wonder what is the connection between my personal (divine) intervention and national good.
It is true that “I and my loved ones will be okay” but how does this benefit the nation? If God is interested in my personal growth and development as well as that of my family, why would He not be interested in that of the nation as well?
This is why I have an issue with this line of thought. I think it is selfish, weak, and unempathetic — all of which are contrary to Christian teachings.
Maybe I’m overthinking it. Maybe it’s just a harmless way of telling people to move on using religious platitudes.
In a way, I suppose that I can understand the good intent being that kind of statement, however, we must realize that wisdom is not just in what is said, but when and how it I said, especially when the emotions of people are in overdrive.
Operation Japa
It seems almost inevitable that we will talk about this (again!). Whenever something unpleasant happens in Nigeria, there is always the simultaneous talk of japa (emigration).
I have a friend who suggested that we pool funds together and find a way to move to a different country “…even if it is Togo” she says 😂. I always laugh it off, but maybe she has a point.
I have always believed that not every one of us has to be in Nigeria to turn it around, but then not every one of us can afford to leave even if we want to. Japa is not as cheap as you think, and frankly, not every one of us wants to leave.
It is not a good thing that as citizens of a Nation, we continually see our salvation in foreign lands. It is painful that “may Nigeria not happen to you” is now a genuine prayer to say every time you leave the house.
We just want a country that works, one where we can go anywhere we want, and come back knowing we are secure in our own homes.
Notwithstanding, If japa is part of your plan, then by all means go ahead and make it happen, it is worth it. But as long as things are still the way they are — unless you have the funds to move your entire family — you still have to pray that Nigeria does not happen to any of your loved ones here
Final Thoughts
After the death of my mum, I sought ways to deal with my grief — some good, some bad, some very ugly — one of those good ways was in books.
There was one in particular, “Mourning Diaries” by Roland Barthes. It is more of a collection of scribblings than it is a book, written by the author after the death of his mother.
The book never offered any practical advice whatsoever (what kind of advice would a grief-stricken man give you anyway?) However, it helped me express myself in ways I could not at the time. In a way, I guess you can say I found my voice in his words.
This is what this letter is — a kind of mourning diary. It is not to encourage you or advise you on what to do next — because even I do not know. It is, however, to help you express the things you have deep inside but cannot say.
Hope deferred, shattered dreams, and unrequited love, all have the same thing in common — they make the heart sick.
Hopefully, after reading this, you would have screamed, cried, and dust yourself up. You have the right to be hurt and angry, no one should deny you that.
However, we should not mope around for too long, there is still far too much work to be done.
You will be fine. We all will be — eventually.🤷🏾♂️
