A Pain One Carries Silently
This afternoon, as I travelled from Abuja to Lagos, a group of young Nigerians approached me at the airport and said: “We have not heard or read anything from you today or yesterday, despite all the heartbreaking news dominating our front pages—from the appointment of some of the least qualified individuals as ambassadors, to our institutions being ridiculed, the First Lady hosting extravagant dinners for Senators while children are being abducted, and the countless killings across the country.”
I looked at them and understood their frustration. My response came from the depth of my heart:
My dear younger brothers and sisters, there is a pain one carries silently when watching a nation you love bleed daily. There is a pain that words cannot fully describe—when you see the suffering of ordinary Nigerians and compare it to the reckless insensitivity displayed by those entrusted with leadership. It is the kind of pain that makes you remember the humiliating remark from the American president who referred to Nigeria as a “now disgraced country.”
Today, when you look around, you begin to understand why the world speaks of us that way. Yes, some of the names being paraded to represent us as ambassadors globally are shocking. But with a leadership that has allowed mediocrity, corruption, and impunity to rise to the top, who else did you expect them to choose?
When our people are being killed, our leaders are busy hosting dinners.
When children are being snatched from their schools, the political class is celebrating and dancing.
When families cannot afford their next meal, those in power are welcoming defectors and exchanging gifts as though Nigeria is not burning.
This is not governance.
This is not leadership.
And this is certainly not the Nigeria we deserve.
We cannot continue normalising this level of moral decay and national indifference. A nation rises when its leaders feel the pain of its citizens—not when they insulate themselves from it. A nation progresses when compassion, competence, and accountability guide public office, not when frivolity becomes the order of the day.
But I want you, the young people, to know this: do not lose hope. Do not become numb. Do not let this darkness demoralise your hearts. The New Nigeria we dream of—a just, secure, productive, and respected nation—is still possible. But it will not happen by accident. It will happen because people like you refuse to accept failure as our destiny.
We will continue to speak and insist that Nigeria can and must be better.
A New Nigeria is POssible. -PO
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