We are all beggars. Yes, you too, Mr. “I can never beg anybody.” You’re just in denial. You don’t beg with your mouth because your phone data and “Yes Sir” voice are already doing the kneeling.
See, the man at Ganaja junction is begging for fifty naira to eat, the one in the office is begging his oga for promotion, and oga himself is writing “Dear Sir” with trembling fingers and careful spacing, the email must not offend the Supreme Lord in Abuja who allocates contracts like cake at a birthday party.
And Abuja? Oh, Abuja is kneeling with a wine bottle in one hand and an economic blueprint in the other, bowing before Washington and Brussels, asking: “Please, can we borrow just one more time? We promise this one will be for infrastructure, not stomach.”
You think it ends there? No. Even our billionaires, the ones who drive bulletproof humility, are constantly on the phone with politicians, begging not to be remembered for their sins during tax season. The same politician is begging thugs to let him pass in peace. And the thugs? They are begging the ancestors to let their shrine business grow beyond thunder and chalk.
Let us descend to the campuses, yes, our citadels of learning, those incubators of intellectual hunger and generator fumes. The student is begging the lecturer for C, the lecturer is begging the HOD to help sign approval, the HOD is begging ASUU leaders to beg the government for salary, and the government is begging the economy to please grow by accident.
Everywhere you turn, someone is looking up, not in prayer, but in desperation. From Okada men dodging Police man and begging with their mirrors, to pastors who now specialize in “Prophetic Consultancy,” a.k.a. spiritual begging in suits.
We are all beggars. Some of us just have LinkedIn profiles, yes, complete with “Results-driven, value-oriented strategic thinker” plastered beside a profile picture that’s just a glorified passport photo with a forced smile. But behind that corporate jargon and tie-choking ambition is a heart whispering: “Please, just endorse me. Recommend me. Refer me. Promote me. Take me along.”
Even the motivational speaker yelling “Don’t beg! Create value!” is begging for bookings. His Instagram inspiration is just desperation with a filter. He’s one unpaid invoice away from becoming a prayer warrior.
Let’s not forget our brothers and sisters in government, professional beggars with executive titles. They don’t kneel. They travel. To China, to Dubai, to Paris, to beg with briefcases and borrow with boldness. They return to commission potholes and announce billion-naira budgets that trickle down as one sachet of rice per voter. That rice is begged for again at the next rally. The circle continues.
Even the rich man is begging, subtly, of course. He’s begging the system not to collapse. He’s begging security to stay awake. He’s begging his village people to stay asleep. And when he says “God forbid poverty,” he is begging the Almighty for continuity in his accidental prosperity.
Our professors are begging for research grants. Our graduates are begging for jobs. The job owners are begging for electricity. The electricity company is begging for payment. The payment collector is begging for patience. And the president? He is begging us to believe.
We are not just beggars. We are multi-level marketers of begging. A human pyramid of supplication. Your boss is begging his boss who is begging his godfather who is begging the gods of political survival.
Look at our WhatsApp groups. Wedding, birthday, burial, school fees, everything is “Let’s rally round.” A country of emergency GoFundMes and last-minute help. Even our spirituality is saturated with begging: “Father, do it for me,” “Jehovah overdo,” “Lord, don’t pass me by.” As if God were in a hurry and might miss your bus stop.
We’ve turned citizenship into an application letter. Rights into requests. Dignity into a favor.
But don’t worry, tomorrow we’ll wake up, tie our egos like gele, and step out again, chanting the national pledge in our heads:
I pledge to Nigeria my country,
To be faithful, loyal and honest,
As I beg for fuel, beg for light, beg for job, beg for help,
So help me God.
Because in the end, we are all beggars, some just have better data plans and louder ring tones.
– Adeyemi Babarinde Sunday writes from Kogi state.
