By Carllister Ejinkeonye
When
I saluted Nigeria on the
occasion of her 53rd Independence
celebrations last October, I was not too sure that my greeting rang out with joy
and optimism. I, however, feel that an occasion like that, largely received with
mixed feelings across the country, presents a wonderful opportunity to deeply
reflect on Nigeria
and share my very frank feelings about it.
*Mrs. Ejinkeonye
I
have been around for close to half a century now. From the experiences that
came with those years, my environment and the many occurrences we have
witnessed in my beloved country, I find it difficult to agree with the
dictionary definition of the word INDEPENDENCE as freedom from political control by other countries or as the freedom to organize one’s life, make one’s
own decisions and plans without the interference of other people. Truly
speaking, it would appear I even became more confused about the word when a
couple of months ago when I was reminded that Nigeria had attained 53years as an
independent country. As I tried to make calls, I heard a recorded voice scream
melodiously into my ears: ‘God Bless Nigeria!’
Now, I am forced to wonder: how would a man feel, if after 53 solid years, he sits down to take a stock of his life, and
all he discovers are that his woes far exceed his joys, his disappointments
overwhelm his achievements and his failures swallow his modest success? Certainly, he would immediately
become miserable; in fact, his misery would be worse than that of a captive. Now,
at 53, how free is Nigeria? Think about it.
I
am not here to merely enumerate and analyze the woes, disappointments,
failures, or even seeming joys, assumed peace and what have you, which our
‘FREE’ nation boasts itself of. (Well, so much of that flood our newspapers
daily.) I only wish to call our attention to a particular group of people which
this self-styled giant of Africa, NIGERIA, has been most unfair to.
I
discovered that on Saturday, 12 October 2013, at about 3:30am, I was just rolling
on my bed. Soon, these words were dropped on my heart: ‘The Child, The Youth and the Country, Nigeria.’ As I struggled with this, every bit of sleep departed
from my eyes, forcing me to stand up to write down this burden of my heart,
which I am quite sure, is also the burden of many well meaning Nigerians.