Why I Don't "Do" Politics

Why I Don't "Do" Politics

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As a young woman born and raised in Nigeria, I’ve never had the money, connections, or family pedigree to enter the political arena myself. The way power structures operate here, legitimate democracy often feels out of reach for everyday citizens like me. Instead, the government seats seem reserved for wealthy elites and their dynasties. Don’t get me wrong, I care deeply about issues impacting our people. Corruption, lack of infrastructure, unemployment, barriers to women’s advancement...these matter greatly to me as a Nigerian longing to create a just society for my children.

With two busy young kids at home, pursuing political office frankly seems too risky and impractical for me as a mom in Nigeria today. As much as I care about bettering our country, I have to be realistic. I can’t jeopardize my family’s welfare or safety by embroiling myself in Nigeria’s infamously dirty political battles. The costs feel too great relative to the slim odds I could actually change anything as an outsider to the ruling class.
I desperately want things to improve for ordinary Nigerians struggling with poverty, violence, and lack of opportunity. My heart breaks imagining my own children growing up in such harsh conditions with barriers at every turn. Mothers bear so much responsibility already nurturing our children amid constant threats of instability.

But precisely because my kids rely solely on me, I don’t have the luxury of playing political activist or candidate. It’s an unfortunate reality that those who speak too loudly against Nigeria’s deeply embedded inequality often meet Dangerous fates. Just look at what’s happened lately to peaceful protestors and journalists highlighting injustice. Police brutality and government retaliation is very real here.

Practical dangers aside, I simply lack the wealth and connections necessary to viably run for office anyway. Our so-called democracy revolves more around dynasties, cronyism, and bribery than actual constituent support. Trying to work within such a system feels both ethically compromising and unrealistic given my modest means. Those holding power today come from dynasties spanning generations as governors, senators, and the like. Many trace their wealth and influence directly back to colonial-era military contracts or tribal authority. Over time, they’ve solidified control and systems that serve their interests.

So rather than pursue the pipe dream of holding office myself in hopes of driving change, my political participation can happen locally within my community. I can lead clothing drives for displaced families, volunteer as an election monitor if it is even possible, and make small donations to grassroots organizations when I can. It doesn’t feel like enough, but it allows me to model civic values for my kids without endangering our welfare.

My wild dream is that by the time my children reach adulthood, Nigeria’s political environment will look much brighter and more inclusive. Perhaps one day we’ll have fair elections, active civil society, equitable distribution of resources, and governance for the people rather than elites. But realistically, such a reality likely remains generations away if reform even happens. NOTE THE "ONE DAY"

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_{This post is my entry to the hive learner prompt for week99 edition1}