Japa, State of the Union Address, and Our Cultural Authority.

The intertwined relationship between migration, patriotism , and dignity has been a perennial issue in online debates in Nigeria. I thought to add my two cents to the conversation. Specifically, the issue of those who Japa to do "menial" jobs they won't do at home.

Like other Japa issues I have read and seen, discussions like this often lack intersectionality, which makes many interventions replace complex issues with simplistic interpretations. My aim in this post is not to engage the multiple angles that go unnoticed but to ask a rhetorical question. If your child prefers someone else's home to yours, do you guilt-trip, gaslight, or shame them, or do you ask yourself if you have provided the minimum so that those who stay don't join those you complain about?

My dad died when I was about 15, and my mom became our primary caregiver. As young children, as many children, we had a proclivity to veer off, but one speech that I have memorized called us to our senses. When we transgress, Mum would say, "You, these children, be warned in this house. Have I put anything on your head to hawk? Do you lack clothes to wear or a place to sleep? How often have you stayed back at home because of school fees? I may not have money to send you abroad for vacation, but what is lacking in your life?” And her favorite verse was, “Have I ever sent you to a lover’s house to collect money? (Se mo ran yin lo ile ale lo gbowo fun mi ni?). Elo towo Omo yin bo aso!” When Mum gave this speech, everyone was well-behaved for a while. I call this Mum’s state of the union address because, omo, that woman trained us with her blood, sweat, and tears.

Can Nigerian leaders say to their citizens, particularly to children, “We have never allowed you to hawk; your schools are well-furnished; our social welfare is intact even though we are improving on it. Our infrastructure and medical sector are thriving, even though more can be done. Your security, sanity, and safety are not compromised because we don’t treat t#rrHrists with kid gloves.

What can Nigerian leaders and its elite brag about or use to assert their authority to citizens? On what moral authority do you want to assert yourself to children who struggle to get government bursaries, can't sit in a decent lounge in any public place, and have never felt the presence of government? We pollute the innocence of children with labor and stress in the name of apprenticeship and shame adults who work as sagala in Libya.

My rhetorical question, among others, is why I have insisted the president and first lady are not the father and mother of the nation; the president is an elected official; he is a servant of the people. They can’t be fathers and mothers, and their children live in penury like most Nigerian children. Do their children attend the same dilapidated schools that most children sit in to learn?

Until we attend to this question, people will continue to japa.

Let me get more sun before this Vitamin D season ends and we start eating it like candy.