By
Nze David N. Ugwu
A Nation Unravelling While Its Custodians Look On
There is a haunting phrase in the Book of Jeremiah: “They have eyes, but they see not; ears, but they hear not.” It describes a people who witnessed the collapse of their own society yet lacked either the courage or the conscience to stop it. That phrase could well describe Nigeria today.
Nigeria is not collapsing in one dramatic moment. There is no single coup, no civil war, no foreign invasion. Instead, the country is being destroyed gradually, systematically, and quietly—through corruption normalized as culture, political impunity elevated to strategy, institutional weakness disguised as inevitability, and moral exhaustion masquerading as realism.
And the most tragic part?
We are present at the destruction.
A Slow-Motion National Tragedy
Nations rarely die suddenly. They rot. They decay. They hollow out from within until what remains is a shell—bearing a flag, a constitution, and a national anthem, but devoid of shared purpose or moral spine.
Nigeria today shows all the symptoms of a state in slow-motion decline:
- Public office has become a license for personal enrichment.
- Laws exist, but enforcement is selective.
- Institutions exist, but loyalty to individuals overrides loyalty to rules.
- Leadership exists, but responsibility has evaporated.
Corruption is no longer a scandal; it is a system. Political impunity is no longer shocking; it is expected. Institutional failure is no longer debated; it is assumed.
What should alarm us most is not that these things exist, but that they no longer outrage us.
The Silence of the Witnesses
Every national tragedy has three categories of people:
- Those who actively destroy
- Those who resist
- Those who watch
Nigeria’s greatest crisis today is not merely bad leadership; it is the overwhelming dominance of the third group.
Many Nigerians see what is happening.
They complain in private.
They grumble on social media.
They lament in beer parlours, churches, mosques, and living rooms.
But when it matters most—when courage is required, when sacrifice is demanded—they retreat into silence.
Some are subdued by fear.
Some are compromised by convenience.
Some have simply given up.
Silence, however, is never neutral. In moments of national decay, silence becomes complicity.
When Patriotism Became a Punchline
There was a time when patriotism meant something in Nigeria. It was imperfect, sometimes naïve, but it existed. People believed—perhaps foolishly—that the country could be better than it was.
Today, patriotism has become a laughing matter.
To speak of Nigeria with hope is to be labelled unserious.
To demand accountability is to be called naive.
To refuse corruption is to be mocked as foolish.
The smart Nigerian, we are told, is the one who “knows how things work”—who bends rules, exploits loopholes, and looks out only for himself.
In such an environment, national loyalty dies quietly, not with a bang but with a shrug.
None of Us Were There at the Beginning
One of the most sobering truths about Nigeria’s present crisis is this:
None of those presiding over its destruction were there at its creation.
The men and women who fought for independence, whatever their flaws, carried a sense—however fragile—of collective destiny. They imagined a country larger than themselves.
Today’s ruling elite did not build Nigeria. They merely inherited it. And inheritance without stewardship breeds recklessness.
Nigeria has become a resource to be consumed, not a legacy to be preserved.
When leaders see the state as a spoil rather than a trust, collapse is inevitable.
Institutional Decay as a Way of Life
Institutions are the backbone of any nation. When institutions work, individuals matter less. When institutions fail, individuals become gods.
In Nigeria, institutions have been deliberately weakened—not by accident, but by design.
- Anti-corruption agencies pursue enemies, not justice.
- Security agencies serve power, not citizens.
- Regulatory bodies exist in name but not in courage.
- The rule of law bows before political influence.
Once institutions lose autonomy, impunity thrives. And when impunity thrives, citizens lose faith.
A country without faith in its institutions eventually becomes ungovernable.
The Normalization of the Abnormal
Perhaps the most dangerous stage of national decline is when abnormality becomes normal.
Today in Nigeria:
- Massive theft of public funds barely makes headlines.
- Failed public projects attract no consequences.
- Elections are contested not on ideas, but on litigation.
- Public outrage is brief, performative, and quickly forgotten.
We have adjusted our expectations downward, telling ourselves that “this is Nigeria”—as if decay were a natural law rather than a human choice.
Every time we normalize dysfunction, we deepen it.
Those Who Speak, and the Cost of Speaking
To be fair, not everyone is silent.
A few journalists continue to investigate despite threats.
A few activists continue to speak despite harassment.
A few citizens continue to resist despite isolation.
But speaking truth in Nigeria has become a lonely, dangerous, and often unrewarding endeavour. The system punishes dissent and rewards conformity.
Those who speak are labelled troublemakers.
Those who comply are promoted.
Over time, many learn the lesson: silence pays better than integrity.
The Psychology of Giving Up
Many Nigerians have not joined the destruction actively. They have simply checked out emotionally.
They no longer expect government to work.
They no longer believe reform is possible.
They focus on personal survival—escape routes, foreign visas, private solutions.
This resignation is understandable, but it is also deadly.
When citizens stop believing in change, decay accelerates. A nation cannot be rescued by people who have already abandoned it in their hearts.
Present at the Destruction, Absent from Responsibility
History is unforgiving to bystanders.
When future generations ask how Nigeria collapsed, the question will not only be “Who destroyed it?” but also “Who watched and did nothing?”
Being present at the destruction without resisting it does not absolve anyone. Moral neutrality in the face of injustice is an illusion.
Every bribe paid, every lie defended, every silence chosen—no matter how small—contributes to the larger collapse.
Who Will Rise to Rescue Nigeria?
This is the most urgent question of our time.
Who will rise—not merely to complain, but to lead with courage?
Who will insist on integrity when dishonesty is easier?
Who will choose sacrifice over comfort, principle over profit?
Nigeria does not need messiahs. It needs men and women of conscience—in politics, in business, in civil society, in the media, and in everyday life.
Rescue will not come from one heroic figure. It will come when enough Nigerians decide that the cost of silence has become too high.
The Final Choice
Nigeria is still standing, but it is bleeding.
The destruction is not inevitable. It is a consequence of choices—made daily by leaders and citizens alike.
History will record this era not just as a time of corruption and impunity, but as a moment when millions were present at the destruction.
The only unanswered question is whether we will also be present at the rescue.
Because nations are not saved by those who watch.
They are saved by those who refuse to look away.
Nze David N. Ugwu is the Managing Consultant of Knowledge Research Consult. He could be reached at [email protected] or +2348037269333Top of FormBottom of Form
