SOUTH AFRICA, EVEN YOU?
Nigerians do not wander the world merely for adventure. They go because home has become a hard place to hold on to. Back home, the roads are riddled with potholes. Citizens get darkness instead of the power supply they pay for and even the presidency has lost faith in the national grid. Sad to note that even safety is a rumour and citizens are either kidnapped for ransom or killed on the highways they ply for daily bread endeavours. Here, opportunity is an illusion, and the citizens become a reluctant rover, including university graduates who roam the streets with no jobs in sight. With such ugly tales, who wouldn’t go in search of greener pastures? Even with our rich natural and human resources, there is nothing to boast of at home. Absolutely, nothing.
Why should anyone blame South Africa? We do not blame them. We do not blame them for attacking Nigerians and their businesses. We do not even blame them for asking Nigerians to go. Instead, we blame our insensitive leaders. Those who practised in pomp but poor in purpose. Those, who have failed to provide security that soothes or infrastructure that inspires.
No, I reserve my reproach for the familiar faces at home and the custodians of a country that should comfort its citizens but instead compels them to scatter. For what is migration if not a referendum on governance?
To South Africa, and to others who have found Nigerians a convenient scapegoat, we say this, if Nigeria were better, Nigerians would not be in your streets seeking survival. If Nigeria worked, Nigerians would work it. If Nigeria healed, Nigerians would not have to hustle elsewhere for healing.
Nonetheless, history, that stubborn storyteller, will not sit quietly while tempers talk. South Africa, even you? Have you forgotten so soon, or has memory become a selective servant?
There was a time when your land lay under the long, loathsome of apartheid. There was a time when the majority was muzzled and dignity was detained. In those days, Nigeria did not dither. Nigeria did not dilly-dally in diplomatic doublespeak. Nigeria stood. Nigeria stood with you.
History tells us that from the fervent fire of Nnamdi Azikiwe to the fearless voice of Wole Soyinka, Nigerians lent their lungs and their language to your liberation. M.K.O. Abiola opened not only his wallet but also his will and supported the struggle when it was neither fashionable nor financially fruitful. Our campuses crackled with consciousness and our streets sang solidarity.
The searing songs of Fela Kuti lashed out at injustice with rhythm and rage. Sonny Okosun stirred souls with “Fire in Soweto.” Christy Essien-Igbokwe lent her voice to the voiceless. Even beyond our borders, Africa’s anthem of resistance rose through voices like Miriam Makeba and Hugh Masekela, voices Nigeria welcomed, amplified, and celebrated. We boycotted. We protested. We paid.
Nigeria was not a perfect partner, but it was a present one. Not a silent spectator, but a stubborn supporter. So today, when Nigerians are hounded in the very land they once helped hold up, it feels less like justice and more like amnesia dressed as anger.
South Africa, even you? The question lingers, not loud, but long.
Anthony Ekpo Bassey, PhD, teaches Journalism at the University of Calabar.
