The legacies we have, By Hawwah A. Gambo

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Years ago, I met a woman here in Bournemouth who was living in one  of the most expensive hotels in the town. She asked me how much I  would charge to take her to London, and I said to her 250 pounds. And  she said ‘what if I would hire you for the entire day and you take me  to London and back, and I of course pay for the parking ticket and  everything, how much would it be? I said to her it would be about 350  pounds. For the sake of curiosity, I asked her, ‘what are you going to  do in London? And she said ‘shopping’, Pick me up at my hotel tomorrow  by 10am and we would go to London and back.

The following morning I went picked her up and we drove down to  London. She spent close to 30000 pounds shopping, paid the parking  ticket and we came back. We went to London that week between 3 to 4  times and she spent over 100000 pounds shopping. On our last trip she  said to me ‘you would be taking me to Heathrow airport tomorrow. I am  going to the US’. I asked what she would be doing in the US and she  told me she has got a Daughter studying there. She has one studying at  Bournemouth University, another in a university at the US and another  in Canada.

He continued, she told me that her Husband is one of the top shots in  Nigerian Government as at that time, and that if I want to come to  Nigeria, all I need do is let her know, and she would arrange for
someone to pick me up at the airport and have me accommodated and  taken care of, he added.’
It then occurred to me that all that money the woman was spending was  money meant for the poor people of Nigeria. That woman spent nothing  less than 300,000 pounds in less than a week that I’d met her; that’s  obscene; absolutely crazy. For a country as rich in human and natural  resources as Nigeria, it absolutely has no business being poor.

Nigeria is the most populous black nation in Africa, and also the  richest in natural resources and every standard. Why then are its people so poor? Because of its leaders who siphon, steal and splash
money meant for development on themselves and family alone. If the  spouse of a Government official will (revel) in such ill-gotten wealth,  how much is the President stealing then?  I had left my laptop at home, picking just my tablet which has the  e-ticket that would admit me into the International Commencement  Ceremony of my University and photo camera. First off, I walked for  miles on end going round and round in circles looking for the bank I  was to open an account with, found them after an hour only to be told  everything I need to do is online (lols).

Then began the hunt for the Bournemouth International Conference  Centre. After walking all the way from Bournemouth Square to  HoldenHurst Road, I could not get a bus going to the BICC. One of the
kind bus drivers advised me to walk down as it is not far. It’s less  than a 10 minutes’ walk from here, he said. Go on, you can do it; and  walk I did. When I reached the pier which is some few paces away from
the BICC, I saw a BU international student with his student card  dangling from his neck. I quickly stopped him to ask directions for  the venue and he said to me ‘it is taking place at the Talbot
campuses. Mouth agape, I asked him, are you sure? Of course I am sure,  then enthused. I am just coming from there. And because I was already  panicked (it was already 5pm, the time all students should be seated,  because I had run out of data my tab refused to download the e-ticket.  I didn’t want to be showcasing one of the bad habits Nigerians are  known for; African time.

Noooo, God forbid. I cannot come and be disgracing myself and country  in a foreign land) I was panicky as they come, and I listened to him.  I then asked him, I am already late for the commencement ceremony, and  how do I get there? The fastest way to go would be by Taxi but then it  would be expensive. I quickly said I don’t mind, so long as I make it  to the ceremony. I briskly walked to the nearby cab stand and jumped  into the next taxi on queue.  He is a gentleman in his sixties, warm friendly and chatty like every  other person I have met since my arrival in Bournemouth. I quickly
told him where I was going, and he said, ‘’don’t worry my dear. I  shall get you there in no time. He started making conversation and  then asked me what I would be studying in Bournemouth University. I
told him and he said, ‘that’s a pretty good course, and proceeded to  tell me about his son who has a Doctorate in Digital Journalism. He  asked me what country I am from, and I told him Nigeria. He turned
around, looked me straight in the eye, and said to me; let me tell you  something about Nigeria.
That was how I met, the kind old taxi driver in Bournemouth whose name  I don’t even know. He spoke to me about the indecent corruption of  public office holders, and said, ‘’You are the ones that should free  your country from those who have held her hostage’. Perplexed, I  turned to him and said ‘’me? I am just a poor man’s daughter and poor  civil servant struggling to survive. Who would listen to me? I am here  on a scholarship, I won a scholarship; else I would not be in the UK.

Excited, and his voice a note higher, he said, ‘’you see my point  exactly. You won a scholarship that means you are worthy, you are a  leader. It is your responsibility to help fix your country. Nigeria
needs you and people like you. You have to fight for Nigeria and free  her from those stealing her blind. You got to do this for you and for  your children and their children after them’’.  We had reached the Talbot campus by then, and I hurriedly thanked him,  paid the fare and alighted and fled towards where I thought would be  the program venue feeling flummoxed, perplexed and trapped.

As fate would have it, my program was not in the University but in the  BICC. But luckily, there were free buses on standby to convey students  to the venue (which was right where I left by the way). Needless to  say, I just about made it to the ceremony and the rest as they always
say; is history.
It is actually now, 24 hours after that the enormity of my encounter  with the kind taxi driver is really dawning on me. Ironically, we  Nigerians seem to not even be fully aware of the task before us. We
keep on trivialising topics of our national discuss to which woman is  wearing a hijab or not, who is in what party or not, who is from the  North, South, East or West or who is a Christian or Muslim. Majority
of our debates have always revolved around these issues. There just  aren’t enough genuinely focused, unbiased balanced intellectuals to
elicit intellectually stimulating debates that are centered on  patriotism, nationalism, national interest, national unity, national  cohesion, social re-orientation and change. We are just in a vicious  circle.

The legacy Nigeria has now globally is that of a nation in wanton  corruption, ethnic and religious strife, poverty, diseases and  illiteracy; which cannot be further than the truth because that is the
legacy our leaders built. But it doesn’t have to be this way, we are  much more than that, we are better than that. We can change the  narrative, we can change our reality and create a better one, and we
can build a better Nigeria.

I feel weighed down by the responsibility that kind old man in that  harmless conversation laid on my thin frail shoulders. Because I know  this is a responsibility not to be borne by me alone, but by 200
million Nigerians. Nigeria needs all of us, each and every one of us.  Man and Woman, young and old, rich and poor, educated and  non-educated, Southerner, Easterner, Westerner and Northern, Muslim,
Christian, Traditionalist, Animist and Atheist. We all matter, Nigeria  needs all of us, to save her from imminent death, to heal her, build  her, to nurture her and give her back her glory as the mother and  giant of the African continent; for our sakes, for the sakes of our  Children and their children after them.
God bless Nigeria

Hawwah A. Gambo
Journalist/Social Entrepreneur
Chevening Scholar

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