I was
ten years old when my friend in primary school then, Emeka, left school
one afternoon. He said his parents said they had to go back to East, war
was about to start. I never saw Emeka again. My aunty Bunmi was married
to a gentleman from Enugu, I cannot recall his name. But I recall the
evening when my parents tried to persuade her and her husband not to
leave for the East. She did, we never saw her again.
I
recall distinctly how in 1967, passing in front of my home on Ikorodu
road almost every hour were trucks carrying passengers and furniture in
an endless stream heading east. Many Ibos who left various parts of
Nigeria, left friends, families and businesses, schools and jobs. Like
my friend and aunty some never returned! But many died. The reasons for
this tragic separation of brothers and sisters were deep and profound.
So much has been said and written already about the ``why’s and
wherefores’’ and that analyses will probably never end.
This
is why I would rather not spend this few minutes on whether there was
or was not sufficient justification for secession and the war that
followed. The issue is whether the terrible suffering, massive loss of
lives, of hopes and fortunes of so many can ever be justified.
As
we reflect on this event today, we must ask ourselves the same question
that many who have fought or been victims in civil wars, wars between
brothers and sisters ask in moments of reflection….``what if we had
spent all the resources, time and sacrifice we put into the war, into
trying to forge unity? What if we had decided not to seek to avenge a
wrong done to us? What if we had chosen to overcome evil with good?’’
The
truth is that the spilling of blood in dispute is hardly ever worth the
losses. Of the fallouts of bitter wars is the anger that can so easily
be rekindled by those who for good or ill want to resuscitate the fire.
Today some are suggesting that we must go back to the ethnic
nationalities from which Nigeria was formed. They say that secession is
the answer to the charges of marginalization. They argue that separation
from the Nigerian State will ultimately result in successful smaller
States. They argue eloquently, I might add that Nigeria is a colonial
contraption that cannot endure.
This is
also the sum and substance of the agitation for Biafra. The campaign is
often bitter and vitriolic, and has sometimes degenerated to fatal
violence. Brothers and sisters permit me to differ and to suggest that
we’re greater together than apart.
No
country is perfect; around the world we have seen and continue to see
expressions of intra-national discontent. Indeed, not many Nigerians
seem to know that the oft-quoted line about Nigeria being a “mere
geographical expression” originally applied to Italy. It was the German
statesman Klemens von Metternich who dismissively summed up Italy as a
mere geographical expression exactly a century before Nigeria came into
being as a country. From Spain to Belgium to the United Kingdom and even
the United States of America, you will find many today who will venture
to make similar arguments about their countries. But they have remained
together.
The
truth is that many, if not most nations of the world are made up of
different peoples and cultures and beliefs and religions, who find
themselves thrown together by circumstance. Nations are indeed made up
of many nations. The most successful of the nations of the world are
those who do not fall into the lure of secession. But who through thick
and thin forge unity in diversity.
Nigeria
is no different; we are, not three, but more like three hundred or so
ethnic groups within the same geographical space, presented with a great
opportunity to combine all our strengths into a nation that is truly,
to borrow an expression, more than the sum of its parts.
Let
me say that there is a solid body of research that shows that groups
that score high on diversity turn out to be more innovative than less
diverse ones. There’s also research showing that companies that place a
premium on creating diverse workplaces do better financially than those
who do not. This applies to countries just as much as it does to
companies. The United States is a great example, bringing together an
impressively diverse cast of people together to consistently accomplish
world-conquering economic, military and scientific feats.
It
is possible in Nigeria as well. Instead of trying to flee into the lazy
comfort of homogeneity every time we’re faced with the frustrations of
living together as countrymen and women, the more beneficial way for us
individually and collectively is actually to apply the effort and the
patience to understand one another and to progressively aspire to create
one nation bound in freedom, in peace and in unity.
That,
in a sense, should be the Nigerian Dream — the enthusiasm to create a
country that provides reasons for its citizens to believe in it, a
country that does not discriminate, or marginalize in any way. We are
not there yet, but I believe we have a strong chance to advance in that
direction. But that will not happen if we allow our frustrations and
grievances to transmute into hatred. It will not happen if we see the
media — television and radio and print and especially social media — as
platforms for the propagation of hateful and divisive rhetoric. No one
stands to benefit from a stance like that; we will all emerge as losers.
Clearly
our strength is in our diversity, that we are greater together than
apart. Imagine for a moment that an enterprising young man from Aba had
to apply for a visa to travel to Kano to pursue his entrepreneurial
dreams, or that a young woman from Abeokuta had to fill immigration
forms and await a verdict in order to attend her best friend’s wedding
in Umuahia. Nigeria would be a much less colourful, much less
interesting space, were that the case. Our frustrations with some who
speak a different dialect or belong to a different religion must not
drive us to forget many of the same tribe and faith of our adversaries
who have shown true affection for us.
My
God-son is Somkele Awakalu, his father Awa Kalu, SAN, and I taught at
the University of Lagos. My first book was dedicated to Somkele and my
two other God-children. Chief Emmanuel Dimike is almost 80, he was my
father’s friend and business associate in his sawmills in Lagos. Chief
has been like a father. I see him most Sundays, he worships with me at
the chapel.
The
individual affections and friendships we forge some even deeper than
family ties, must remind us that unity is possible, that brotherhood
across tribes and faiths is possible.
Let
me make it clear that I fully believe that Nigerians should exercise to
the fullest extent the right to discuss or debate the terms of our
existence. Debate and disagreement are fundamental aspects of democracy.
We recognize and acknowledge that necessity. And today’s event is along
those lines — an opportunity not merely to commemorate the past, but
also to dissect and debate it. Let’s ask ourselves tough questions about
the path that has led us here, and how we might transform yesterday’s
actions into tomorrow’s wisdom.
Indeed
our argument is not and will never be that we should ‘forget the past’,
or ‘let bygones be bygones’, as some have suggested. Chinua Achebe
repeatedly reminded us of the Igbo saying that a man who cannot tell
where the rain began to beat him cannot know where he dried his body. If
we lose the past, we will inevitably lose the opportunity to make the
best of the present and the future.
In
an interview years ago, the late Dim Chukwuemeka Ojukwu, explaining why
he didn’t think a second Biafran War should happen, said: “We should
have learnt from that first one, otherwise the deaths would have been to
no avail; it would all have been in vain.”
We
should also be careful that we do not focus exclusively on the
narratives of division, at the expense of the uplifting and inspiring
ones. The same social media that has come under much censure for its
propensity to propagate division, has also allowed multitudes of young
Nigerians to see more of the sights and sounds of their country than
ever before.
And
for every young Nigerian who sees the Internet as an avenue for spewing
ethnic hatred, there is another young Nigerian who is falling in love
or doing business across ethnic and cultural lines; a young Nigerian who
looks back on his or her NYSC year in unfamiliar territory as one of
the valued highlights of their lifetime. These stories need to be told
as well. They are the stories that remind us that the journey to
nationhood is not an event but a process, filled as with life itself
with experiences some bitter, some sweet. The most remarkable attribute
of that process is that a succeeding generation does not need to bear
the prejudices and failures of the past.
Every
new generation can take a different and more ennobling route than its
predecessors. But the greatest responsibility today lies on the
leadership of our country. Especially but not only political leadership.
The
promise of our constitution which we have sworn to uphold is that we
would ensure a secure, and safe environment for our people to live, and
work in peace, that we would provide just and fair institutions of
justice. That we would not permit or encourage discrimination on the
grounds of race, gender, beliefs or other parochial considerations. That
we would build a nation where no one is oppressed and none is left
behind.
These
are the standards to which we must hold our leadership. We must not
permit our leaders the easy but dangerous rhetoric of blaming our social
and economic conditions on our coming together. It is their duty to
give us a vision a pathway to make our unity in diversity even more
perfect.
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