POLITICS

Why I Am Ashamed of Being From Nigeria

Admitting that I am sometimes ashamed of my country, Nigeria, feels heavy. It is not something I say lightly, and it is not something I say without love. But honesty demands it. My shame does not come from ignorance of Nigeria’s richness or its people’s strength—it comes from watching a nation with so much potential repeatedly fail itself.
Nigeria is deeply divided along lines that should never have mattered this much: religion and tribe. Instead of unity, these differences have been weaponized. Religion is often used not as a moral compass, but as a political tool—one that blinds people, excuses bad leadership, and fuels intolerance. Tribalism has done equal damage. Merit is frequently sacrificed for ethnicity, competence ignored for familiarity. Decisions that should benefit the whole country are instead made to favor “our own people.” This division has crippled progress and weakened national identity.

Political corruption sits at the center of Nigeria’s disgrace. Leaders loot openly, lie without shame, and govern without accountability. Public funds meant for development vanish, while citizens are told to be patient and prayerful. Elections feel less like a democratic process and more like a contest of manipulation and power. Over time, corruption has stopped shocking people—it has become expected. That normalization is perhaps the most dangerous part.
The consequences are everywhere. Poverty is no longer an exception; it is the reality for millions. Inflation keeps rising, swallowing incomes and turning basic necessities into luxuries. People work tirelessly yet remain stuck, not because they lack ambition, but because the system is designed to drain them. Dreams are postponed indefinitely. Survival replaces living.

Then there is insecurity and terrorism. Entire communities live in fear—of kidnappers, insurgents, and violence that feels endless. Lives are lost, yet justice is rare. The state’s failure to protect its citizens leaves people feeling abandoned in their own homeland. When safety becomes uncertain, hope naturally begins to fade. What deepens the shame is how Nigeria is perceived globally. The mention of the country often invites suspicion, stereotypes, or pity. Many Nigerians feel pressured to overperform just to prove they are different from the negative image associated with their nationality. Carrying that burden is exhausting.

Still, I am not ashamed of Nigerians themselves. I am proud of their resilience, intelligence, humor, and creativity. Nigerians succeed everywhere they go, often excelling despite the odds. That is what makes the failure of the country even more painful. The people deserve better than this. My shame is born from disappointment, not rejection. Nigeria could be great. It should be better. Until religion stops dividing us, tribalism stops limiting us, and corruption stops ruling us, this shame will remain—quiet, unresolved, and deeply personal.
Thanks for stopping by my blog. See you soon. 🤗

peace out ✌️

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