Sometimes I sit quietly and ask myself a question that I honestly cannot answer: What exactly is this nation turning into?
Or perhaps the better question is: What has this nation already turned into?
Because the more we hope for the best, the more things seem to fall apart. Every day comes with another tragedy, another painful headline, another reason to wonder whether anyone is truly in charge.
It feels as though many of those entrusted with power and authority have simply gone to sleep on duty. They occupy offices, hold titles, make speeches, and receive praise, yet the problems facing ordinary Nigerians continue to multiply.
The painful truth is that many of the warnings we see today did not start today.
People cried out years ago, Communities raised alarms, Victims spoke, Families begged, Citizens complained, But those cries were ignored.
Perhaps they thought it did not concern them. Perhaps they believed only a few people were affected. Perhaps they assumed the fire would never spread to their own side.
Today, that same fire is everywhere.
The number of victims has become greater than anyone imagined, and now the situation seems to be slipping beyond control.
One incident that broke my heart was the abduction involving school children, teachers, and school officials in Oyo State, especially the report about the Mathematics teacher who was brutally beheaded.
I could not bring myself to watch the video. Not because I did not care.
But because I care too much.
Just hearing people describe it was enough. I knew if I watched it, I would probably lose sleep for days.
But beyond the tragedy itself, what broke me even more was hearing about the kind of brutality those innocent children were subjected to.
Honestly, I do not know what kind of monsters human beings must become before they can look into the eyes of a child and inflict such pain.
Children. Defenceless children!
Young minds that should be worrying about school assignments, playgrounds, and dreams for tomorrow not terror, torture, and the fear of whether they will see their families again.
No parent can hear such stories and remain untouched.
In fact, even someone who has never given birth but still possesses a human heart would struggle to hold back tears.
What word is strong enough to describe such wickedness? What language can truly capture that level of cruelty? Is it madness? Is it evil? Is it wickedness beyond human comprehension?
Because sometimes I find myself searching for the right word and still coming up empty.
There is something deeply wrong when people can treat innocent children with such brutality and still go to sleep at night.
And perhaps what is even more disturbing is that there are still people who make excuses for the failures that have allowed these horrors to continue.
At this point, everything about it is wrong. Absolutely wrong. The bloodshed is wrong. The silence is wrong. The excuses are wrong. The indifference is wrong.
And every day that passes without meaningful action feels like another betrayal of the innocent people who continue to pay the price.
And perhaps that is what hurts the most not only the cruelty of the criminals, but the feeling that the nation has become accustomed to explaining tragedies instead of preventing them.
Yet what follows these tragedies?
The same promises.
“We are looking into it.”
“We are investigating.”
“We are taking action.”
“We are committed.”
And after all the statements and press conferences, what do we see?
Almost nothing.
The situation remains the same.
What pains me even more are the people who continue praising politicians as though they are gods. Everywhere you turn on social media, there are people defending failure, celebrating incompetence, and worshipping individuals who cannot even solve the problems directly in front of them.
The same leaders who cannot protect lives. The same leaders who cannot guarantee security. The same leaders who cannot ease hunger. The same leaders who cannot create meaningful opportunities.
Yet some people praise them day and night because of temporary benefits that disappear almost as quickly as they arrive.
A token here. A handout there. A few thousand naira today. And in exchange, they surrender their voice, their conscience, and their future. At what point will enough become enough?
At what point will loyalty to politicians stop becoming more important than loyalty to the nation itself?
Corruption, Banditry, Terrorism. Kidnapping, Poverty, Joblessness, Inflation, Hunger, Insecurity. How many more names do we need to add to this list before we admit that something is deeply wrong?
Sometimes I fear that one day we may wake up and be told that since terrorists have spent years trying to impose their will through violence, the nation should simply surrender to their demands in the name of peace.
It sounds ridiculous. It sounds impossible. But tell me honestly, how many things happening today once sounded impossible?
We have endured so much that many Nigerians no longer react to bad news. We have become exhausted.
We have faced hardship upon hardship.
Yet some people still behave as though everything is normal. I honestly wonder whether their hearts are made of stone.
Because if blood is truly running through their veins, how can they look at what is happening and feel nothing?
As for those who hide in darkness while causing pain and destruction across this nation, I pray they never find peace in their evil.
May the cries of innocent victims follow them. May justice find them wherever they hide.
Because at this point, I honestly do not know what else to say.
Everywhere you go, people simply say:
“May God help us.”
And yes, may God help us.
But let us also ask ourselves a difficult question:
Has God not already placed responsibility in the hands of human beings?
Is God supposed to come down from heaven to perform duties assigned to elected leaders and public officials?
There comes a time when people must be told the truth.
Any government that has failed the people should be told plainly that it has failed.
Not praised. Not celebrated. Not worshipped. Held accountable.
In many countries, citizens challenge their leaders because they want things to improve.
But in our own country, speaking uncomfortable truths often attracts enemies.
The one thing that seems to move faster than justice is the effort to silence those demanding it.
Sometimes I wonder whether those claiming to be fighting these problems are actually benefiting from them.
How is it that resources can suddenly appear when it comes to foreign interests, yet solutions become impossible when Nigerian lives are involved?
How is it that image management seems more important than reality management?
Why spend so much energy convincing outsiders that everything is fine instead of fixing the things that are obviously broken? Why has it become a crime to admit weakness and ask for help?
Every day, we open social media and see beautiful reports, impressive statistics, and glowing narratives.
Yet the experiences of ordinary Nigerians tell a different story. It is almost as though there are two countries existing side by side:
The Nigeria being advertised. And the Nigeria being lived. The Nigeria of official statements. And the Nigeria of empty stomachs. The Nigeria of speeches.
And the Nigeria of fear. What baffles me most is how quickly truth-tellers become targets. Anyone who points out failures is treated like the problem. Resources are deployed to track critics while criminals continue operating freely.
If God treated us the same way some leaders treat criticism, many of us would not survive a single day.
And to everyone who collected an urgent ₦5,000 and helped mortgage our future:
Angel Michael knows the number of your houses.
Why has it become normal for politicians to make promises before elections and forget every single one afterwards?
Why do campaigns sound like rescue missions, but governance feels like abandonment?
Before elections, they promise to be our eyes and our voice.
After elections, many become the very feet that trample on us and the hands that flog us.
The painful reality is that some of our lawmakers have become chronic lawbreakers.
Many people are simply waiting until tragedy reaches their own doorstep before they react.
Instead of confronting reality, endorsements and continuity campaigns seem more important than solving problems.
Another thing I find difficult to understand is this: When it comes to political appointments, age is rarely a limitation. But when it comes to employment opportunities for ordinary citizens, countless restrictions suddenly appear.
Too old. Too young.Too short. Too tall.
Not qualified. Not connected. Not selected. Yet the same people denied opportunities are expected to survive somehow.
What exactly do we expect them to do?
How do we tell energetic young people they are not needed, then complain when frustration begins to grow?
Many positions that should belong to productive minds are occupied by people who contribute little and resist change.
Some even sleep while important decisions are being made. Don’t hunt me for saying that. The cameras have already done the talking countless times. And somehow, any law that threatens powerful interests struggles to survive. So let me ask a simple question:
Is this truly the Nigeria that was promised to us?
When future generations speak about this period, what will they say? Will they speak with pride? Or with disappointment? Perhaps some names will be remembered with honour.
But others may become examples of opportunities wasted and responsibilities abandoned.
The saddest part is that many of those responsible may not even care. After all, their personal interests have already been secured. We may be powerless against them today. But that does not mean we deserve the suffering being forced upon us.
And to those still defending failure and attacking fellow citizens for speaking the truth, I have only one thing to say:
The thunder of justice that will fire some of you is doing press up already.
Nigeria belongs to all of us. Not to politicians. Not to political parties. Not to powerful individuals. All of us.
And if demanding accountability has become a crime, then perhaps the real criminals are not the people asking questions, but the people afraid of the answers.
A nation cannot be healed by silence. It cannot be secured by propaganda. And it cannot be transformed by people who refuse to admit that something is wrong.
May Nigeria rise.
May truth prevail.
And may those entrusted with leadership remember that power is not ownership it is responsibility.
– Margareth Yinka Ayinmiro
