The Nigerian Soul
Nigeria lacks a soul. Around 435 BCE, Plato planted the seeds of what it means for a nation to have a soul in his work, The Republic. He posited that individuals must share the same principles and habits as the state, which exists within them. However, for this transfer to occur, the individual must be healthy. According to Plato, a healthy person has certain skills and qualities necessary to maintain the cooperation of reason, will, and appetite. He further dissected these skills and qualities into three: temperance, wisdom, and courage. At first glance, Nigeria appears to have individuals in positions of influence and power who possess these qualities. However, upon closer inspection, it becomes clear that while our leaders may exhibit one of these qualities, none possess all three. This explains why our society is the way it is. Throughout our history, we have never had a healthy leader who poured their healthy state of mind into bettering our country.
This reason, as I have come to understand, is why many successful countries became successful and remained successful. In his book “The Soul of America”, Jon Meacham argues that a country’s soul is not stagnant, but rather swings between hope, fear, and brutality, based on the agenda set by its leader. This is evident in history, as most of America’s presidents have set the tone for their presidency from the beginning of their campaign run, drawing from the nation’s core values since its founding. When the founding fathers created the Declaration of Independence, they established a soul based on their personal beliefs and values, which extended into the newly formed nation and the hearts and minds of ordinary Americans. Although the pendulum of the soul has swung between good and evil, it has endured. Even during the Civil War, leaders like Abraham Lincoln, Ulysses Grant, Jefferson Davis, and Robert Lee represented both sides of the soul, fighting for their values and beliefs, however questionable. The existence of a national soul facilitated reconstruction and reconciliation after the war and Abraham Lincoln’s assassination. Today, the American soul continues to drive arguments between liberty and equality in the midst of political turmoil. In contrast, Nigeria lacks a defined national soul. No Nigerian, young or old, can properly articulate what Nigeria stands for or why it was created beyond being a trading post for wealth transfer between Britain and its former colonies. As Nigerians grew older, the myth of ‘heroes past’ unravelled, and the reverence for these heroes turned to hate and disgust, both for the dead and the living.
In the past, it was easy to conceal the unease because our leaders managed to paper over the cracks and keep some people happy and content. However, with rising inflation, extreme hunger, and insecurity, people have become increasingly aware of the farce that our country does not exist in the way it should. There are no easy answers to how and why we arrived at this juncture, and any simple reasons would oversimplify a very complex issue that started long before any of us alive today was born. Nigerians have never been an ideological people; we have always believed in the power of sheer and brute force. This could be our nature, as anyone with a hint of insight knows that the African land can be brutal, and it is wise to rely on physical strength rather than mental strength in most situations. However, times have changed; we live in a world today where intellect supersedes force, but most Nigerian leaders remain blind to this fact. In 2020, Nigeria recorded one of its largest mass protests in history, which began as an intellectual movement and marked a tipping point in the country’s history. Many young Nigerians held their breath, wondering if this was finally the beginning of the revolution that would change their country’s fortunes. However, fearing loss of power, the Nigerian government and leaders reverted to their nature, using senseless violence to squash the protests, resulting in the death and imprisonment of many young Nigerians. Since October 2020, something has been broken in the heart of Nigeria, and it remains broken. While Nigeria has a heart, it has no soul; it is a zombie, aimless and without direction. A late Nigerian Canadian professor once asserted that ‘Nigeria exists to show other countries how not to run a country.’ To put it mildly, the country is a caricature.
In our last election, there were no winners, except for the peaceful transition of power from one civilian to another. However, the electoral process was deeply flawed, revealing grotesque forms of hatred and divisiveness through primitive tribalistic stereotypes. One could argue that, in this era of hate politics ravaging most countries, Nigeria’s case isn’t unique. But, unlike these countries, we have no values; everything we argue about is pedestrian, and the only things that bring us together are sports and entertainment — our only exports. Liberty, equality, and fraternity have never existed on Nigerian soil. Even religion, supposed to be a source of good, has been stripped of its soul, rendering it soulless like us — a zombie infecting a healthy person. The Nigerian air corrupts because the Nigerian heart is soulless, imparting nothing to its society. Many young Nigerians, including myself, are angry at this situation, but there’s little we can do from a moral and ethical standpoint. While anger can be good, misguided anger can be dangerous, often masked as righteous enthusiasm, leading to destruction. In “Raised to Rage: The Politics of Anger and the Roots of Authoritarianism,” Michael Milburn and Sheree Conrad discuss “affect displacement theory,” where people who experienced harsh punishments as kids tend to glorify toughness, masking their anxieties and helplessness, leading to authoritarian values. Righteous anger is why activists often become terrible rulers, embracing the opposite of what they fought for. History is littered with such examples, like Robert Mugabe, who turned from a revolutionary to a brutal ruler, committing large-scale murders and plunging his country into famine and economic collapse. This shows what happens when a country lacks a soul, running on righteous enthusiasm alone.
I am not keen on a revolution in Nigeria right now, as I understand its potentially devastating consequences. Any revolution without careful planning and structural change would be a waste of time, ending in senseless deaths and total implosion. Successful revolutions are methodical, taking time to plan and execute, creating a soul through ideas rather than bloodshed and suffering. Ideas define a nation, shaping culture, sports, entertainment, and every other aspect. Nigerians must put in the work, thinking critically about what defines us. Moreso, we need to identify what divides us — tribalism and religion — and recognize that our differences are not excuses for a lack of values. Multicultural and multireligious countries have shown that diversity can be an advantage. To move forward, we must build bridges of trust and respect, rather than hate and anger.
Nigeria is not unique in its challenges, but I believe it’s time for every Nigerian to engage in soul-searching. We must find our individual souls before we can create a collective one for our country. It’s been over 60 years since our creation, and excuses no longer suffice. As a young Nigerian, I understand our anger. Our leaders have failed miserably since the country’s inception. However, I believe our generation has the tools to effect change. We must redirect our anger, focus, and work together despite differing ideas. We need to create a unified idea that represents us all and can stand the test of time. To build a better nation, we must move beyond identifying ourselves by who we voted for in the last election. While we may feel pain and hurt by the stupidity and callousness of our friends and neighbours, we need them to build a better Nigeria.
