Since 1960, October 1 has marked the celebration of Nigeria’s independence from Great Britain. Despite the country’s ongoing struggles and growing challenges, the significance of the day has never been lost on Nigerians, whose forebears endured a century of exhausting and oppressive colonisation process. This oppressive era began with the annexation of Lagos in 1861 and saw British influence expand through treaties, military conquests, and indirect rule, ultimately leading to the formal and full colonisation of the country in 1914.

For many obvious reasons, a nationwide reverberation was felt when Nigeria’s first Prime Minister, Abubakar Tafawa Balewa, announced the country’s independence on October 1, 1960. But like a flightless bird flapping its wings, 64 years have passed, and Nigeria, even to the most hopeful — which in this case are most of its citizens — seems almost irredeemable. The British Empire’s colonisation was structured around the exploitation of Nigeria’s vast natural wealth and the subjugation of its people. So, too, was the post-colonial state, which, despite gaining political independence, has remained largely a rentier economy controlled by a small elite, dependent on oil revenues. While many aspects of the country’s current situation remain shrouded in mystery, the harsh realities of economic hardships, chronic insecurity, systemic corruption, deficient education, and underdeveloped infrastructure are glaring. The structural imbalance between this elite and the majority of Nigerians has only deepened over time and no one knows this better than the masses who solely bear the brunt of a dysfunctional society. The political class also knows this all too well and it’s on the vain promises of doing better they stage their campaigns every four years. 

Executives and legislators come and go, with new policies being institutionalised and political appointments being distributed, yet the country has been on the declining ladder for years now. With each passing year, the optimism that accompanied independence has eroded, replaced by a growing sense of disillusionment. Today, many Nigerians struggle to wholeheartedly celebrate a day that was once filled with promise. Nigeria is currently experiencing its worst economic crisis in over three decades. Inflation rate, for one, is at 32.2%, and prices of everyday needs are almost four times the price they were last October. Unsurprisingly, Nigerians, as it’s their wont when forced against the wall, are chiselling through it and have been making do under a government that doesn’t seem to be working for them. 

How Are Nigerians Surviving? 

One of the biggest wonders of the year so far is how Nigerians continue to persevere despite the overwhelming challenges.  However, this admirable resilience is quite a paradox, as it seems to also perpetuate the status quo of poor governance.

Take religion, for example. Whether skewed or not, religion is central to the lives of most Nigerians, and it’s within its divine beliefs that they find solace in trying times. You can’t separate Nigerians from their faith. Only about 4% of the country’s population identify as non-religious, while the remaining 96% majorly identify as Muslims and Christians. To an extent, this belief system in the “divine arrangement” inspires, guides, and stills, but it has also become a refuge for the political elites to thrive. 

The assured joy that follows suffering, promises of respite for the troubled, the certainty for eventual triumph over oppressors and other axioms from the spiritual texts are taken seriously and quite literally by the average religious Nigerian. Typically, this ingrained psyche of God handling all affairs leads to passivity and lack or tepid involvement in political activities that could create change.

Another two-edged survival mechanism is crowdfunding. As the struggle to meet daily expenses grows more overwhelming, some Nigerians have turned to crowdfunding campaigns to fulfil their financial obligations. A recent and popular case study is the last-minute crowdfunding campaigns from the students of the University of Ibadan in light of the 400% increment in their tuition fees. In a bid to meet the September 20 deadline, the school’s Students’ Union and some other faculties administration championed the move to appeal to the public to save students from dropping out by making donations. 

In addition to crowdfunding efforts, individual interventions from non-political figures have emerged as significant sources of relief. For instance, popular content creator and philanthropist  Asherkine recently brought much-needed relief to communities in Jos by donating a borehole system, food items, and school materials to women and children.

Similarly, Dan Bello also renovated a dilapidated primary classroom into a modern and standard learning environment in just 12 days in Maiduguri. While these garnered applause from bringing succour to some part of the population, it uncovered a more disturbing trend when some netizens called for a nationwide crowdfunding effort to improve public infrastructure — a vital part of the government’s responsibilities in which they ought to be held responsible. 

There are certainly other approaches — such as mass philanthropic empowerment and poverty alleviation schemes — that Nigerians are employing to navigate life under an ineffective government. However, these efforts often signal a deeper concern, as they can only address surface-level issues and cannot fully resolve the country’s systemic challenges.

The consequences of government actions and inactions are evident for everyone daily but what’s clearer is that the scale of these consequences is beyond what religious convictions, individual or charitable efforts can fix.

It goes without saying that in a sane clime where governments effectively perform their duties, significant change is possible. However, since this doesn’t seem to be the forte of Nigeria’s politicians, perhaps, for a start, it’s high time we began clamouring for the establishment of change-driven institutions — rather than relying solely on isolated efforts from NGOs — that can transform how the masses think and react to blatant injustices.