A few months ago, I wrote a post on the reasons I want to move back to home, sweet home. But let’s be real, as much as I have fond memories of home, and miss authentic suya and alladat, there are many reasons why moving back would be real real tough. So today, let’s just pretend that I have a magic koboko that can fix the unfixables. Here are 6 things I’d so badly want to make happen in Nigeria.
1. No Cockroaches. Iyama. This is serious, you guys. Those creatures traumatized me as a kid. I am convinced that all the cockroaches in Nigeria had a town hall meeting and decided that my house was the coolest spot for them to all hang out. And did you know they have wings and can fly too?! Well, the ones at my house did. I remember one evening, a huge cockroach flew straight into my thick afro. I flung my head up and down, followed by an aggressive circular motion over and over and over again until the cockroach flew out and slammed itself on the tile floors. But did I stop swinging my head even when I knew the cockroach was out and I heard my siblings shouting “it’s out! It’s out!”? Of course not! The full swing, swing, swing motion continued for what felt like forever, with my hands on my knees, back bent, and everything, like I was in a Beyonce music video.
The same feeling applies to lizards. Eeew yuk! Yukky! I will spare you the details of my traumatizing experience with lizards. In the part of the U.S. where I live, we have cute little squirrels and bunnies roam the streets, instead of ugly-headed lizards. So with my precious magic koboko, I will round up all lizards and roaches out of that country, and turn them into cute little bunnies and butterflies. Oh, and while I’m at it, I’d just get rid of mosquitoes too, or make them become ladybugs. Why not? Goodbye malaria, forever!
2. Job opportunities for everyone. Friend of mine in Nigeria has a Masters in Chemical Engineering since 2015. She had the grand vision of working for an oyel and gas company. After applying and applying and waiting and waiting, she eventually accepted a job as a receptionist. I would tell you the pay, but it is so ridiculous that it will be the joke of this entire post. Friends, it is easier to bathe in hot oil and then walk 3,000 miles across the Sahara desert under the scorching hot sun, than to get a job that matches one’s qualifications in Nigeria. Kilode? Something ain’t right somewhere. We shouldn’t have our graduates driving cabs or sitting at home, idle. Such a waste of talent and skilled workers that other countries are looking for. But not to worry, this isn’t anything my magic koboko cannot fix. Oh and once people get employed, there will be lower crime rates. Two problems solved in one. You’re welcome.
3. Disrupt the telecommunications industry. The other day, I was on a video WhatsApp call with my friend, and she was gisting me about a guy who was “talking” to her. Just as the gist was about to get juicy, her data cut off. O dun mi. This data data data matter sha. Why is it that in the US, most of us don’t have to think about how much data we are consuming? Why is the data in Nigeria so special that people have to pay by the minute, or by the quantity, or by some other complicated data plan that you need a PhD in microeconomic-telecom-science-engineering to decipher? What exactly is the special potion inside that data in Nigeria gangan??
It’s all nonsense when you think about it. It’s a big rip-off that pours san-san inside the garri of productivity. With my magic koboko, I shall disrupt the entire industry by offering calls, text, and internet at a low fixed price regardless of how much is consumed. Do you know how productive people can be if they have unlimited and reliable data? Do you know how much skills people can learn on the internet and how much creativity will be birthed? Just don’t let me just catch anyone Netflixing or Irokoing all day, everyday. My koboko will hunt them down.
4. Free quality education for all. I legit have cousins in the village who were taught English in school using the Yoruba language. Matter of fact, some of them are not even educated at all. The reason? “There’s no need to waste money educating girls.” This just breaks my heart. Oh and did you see the story of the beautiful blue-eyed lady, Risikat, who’s husband supposedly abandoned her because she bore blue-eyed kids? Now she can’t afford to feed, let alone send her daughters to school. With my magic koboko, all kids will be educated; boy or girl, rich or poor. How? You ask? Trust me, there is more than enough money in Nigeria to make this happen. Many politicians will not be happy, but that’s okay. Just leave that to my magic koboko to handle.
5. Basic Necessities. Fam, the sun in Naija is too hot for there to not be constant electricity. And how exactly is my unlimited supply of internet going to work if we have to sit around praying to the gods that control the electricity to switch it back on? Bruh, we’re in 2020. Constant electricity (and water and good roads and libraries… ) should all be necessities in this day and age. So with my magic koboko, I shall make this happen.
6. Local Favorites. I want to live to see the day when we standardize the production of our local favorites, and other countries beg to import them. Why do I have to travel to a specific village in the north before I can find authentic kulikuli? We’ve gats to fix that. Same applies to wara, dodo ikire, kilishi, donkwa, kokoro, gurundi, ati be be lo. If Americans should taste any of these, they would never go back to snacking on sugary famous amos cookies or salty lays potato chips, ever again.
I’m so inspired by people who are changing the narrative in Nigeria, little by little; some have e-commerce websites that make life a thousand times easier, some have healthy smoothie businesses that employ a handful of people, and some others run non-profit organizations like Kids Beach Garden, that are making a huge difference. To you all, I say a big thank you.
As you can tell by me writing about roaches and kulikuli, I did my very best to make this post a light read so you will come back again to my blog. But fam, to be honest, ayam tayad. Nigeria makes me sad. There’s sooo much more I wanted to write about, like the Fulani herdsmen, and the police, and the rape culture, and the pitiful and greedy politicians. But you know, self-control and Christ in me, and all that.
I know they say you shouldn’t compare siblings to each other, but I can’t help it. Just look at our sister African countries, like Rwanda, Senegal, Zimbabwe, Botswana, and Ghana, where things actually work… do they have two heads?? Magic koboko or not, if America votes uncle orange head to stay in power, just know that come November, my name will become Abena, and if you need to find me, I will be somewhere in Accra.
If you could borrow my magic koboko for a quick second, what would you like to change about your home country?