Sometimes I wonder if Nigeria will ever get better.
Today is Independence Day, and Nigeria is 66. I can count on my fingers the people who posted about it on their status. Most people just didn’t feel like it.
Honestly, I understand. I didn’t feel like posting either.
If you’ve lost hope in Nigeria, you’re right to feel that way, and here’s why.
We have every reason to be tired
In early 2023, $100 was about ₦46,000. Today it’s about ₦133,000. Prices keep climbing faster than salaries. You plan your day around light. You budget for data, transport and food, and the money still doesn’t reach the end of the month.
Maybe you’ve stopped checking the dollar rate because it spoils your day. Maybe you tell your parents you’re fine, then lie awake at night doing calculations that never add up.
For about ten years, the country’s money has grown slower than the number of people sharing it. So even when the news says the economy is growing, most of us feel poorer. We’re not imagining it.
Our parents gave us a plan: read hard, get a good degree, get a good job, build a house. Many of us followed it and found no job waiting at the end. So we made a new plan called japa, and even that is getting harder. Since January, America has stopped giving new tourist, student and immigrant visas to Nigerians.
And if you’ve watched your friends leave one by one, you know how every “I’m relocating” post feels like a reminder that you’re still here.
And all of this is before we talk about kidnapping, bad roads, and the fear that comes with travelling from one state to another.
So yes, we’re tired, and I’m tired too.
Can Nigeria still get better?
Most of us don’t believe it can, and that makes sense. When you’re tired, broke and scared, hope sounds like a joke. Believing that Nigeria can get better, in the middle of all this, takes a lot of courage. If you’re rolling your eyes right now, I understand. This morning, I would have rolled mine too.
Yes, I dare to believe it will
So let me answer the question in the title.
Yes, I believe Nigeria will get better.
I dare to believe it, and I dare to hope it. I know how that sounds in a country that has broken our hearts so many times.
But my hope isn’t blind. It’s practical. You can check it against history, against your own street, and against the people around you. Let me show you.
I know what you’re thinking: Nigeria is different. I thought so too. But other countries have been where we are and found their way out. In the 1960s, Indonesia was a lot like us. It was poor and huge, full of different tribes and religions, and ruled by soldiers. Then oil money came, just like it did for us. Indonesia used that money to build farms and factories, while we let our crop exports fall apart and lived on oil. Today Indonesia is far ahead of us. We started in a similar place, and the difference was the choices.
Nigeria itself has done better before. In the early 2000s, our economy grew fast for over ten years. We paid off most of our foreign debt, and GSM arrived. Back in 2000, getting a phone line could take years, and the whole country had only about 400,000 lines. Today your grandma sends “Good morning” pictures on WhatsApp.
So getting better isn’t a fairy tale. It has happened in countries like ours, and it has happened here.
Look at what we built
Look around you. Most of what works in Nigeria today was built by ordinary people.
The government didn’t plan the POS stand at your junction. A guy with an umbrella and a small machine did, because people needed cash and the bank was too far. Nollywood started with cheap home videos. Afrobeats carried our music to the world. Nigerian founders built the fintech apps we use every day. When NEPA failed us, people started putting solar panels on their roofs. Solar is expensive, and many people can’t afford it, but it shows how far we’ll go to solve our own problems.
Even the ones who japa’d are still building. Last year, Nigerians abroad sent home about $21.8 billion. Apart from oil, nothing brings more dollars into this country. Every December we laugh at the IJGB accents, but those same people are holding many families up.
So the Nigerian hustle works. What’s missing is the floor under it: security, steady light, money that keeps its value, and rules that don’t change every time a new person takes office. That part needs good leadership, and that’s why change feels so slow.
The next Nigeria is us
Put all of this together, and the picture changes. Nigeria has done well before, it is full of people who keep building, and it has one of the youngest populations on earth.
The UN expects Nigeria to be one of the biggest countries in the world by 2050, with most of its people young. A country full of young people can go two ways. If they have work, they can push the country forward, the way it happened in East Asia. If they don’t, you get crime, anger and longer queues at the embassy.
That young crowd is us. So besides asking whether Nigeria will get better, we should ask what we’re doing in the meantime.
Build your way out, and do your part
Here’s what I’m taking from all this, for myself and for anyone my age. And if you’re thinking, “Easy for you to say, I don’t even have a laptop or steady data,” you’re right that it’s harder for some of us. Start with what you have. For most of these, a phone is enough:
Learn one skill that can earn from anywhere.
Pick one: writing, design, video editing, coding, data analysis or digital marketing. Learn it free on YouTube, and use AI to explain the parts you don’t understand. Practise with small projects you can show people, then put your work on LinkedIn, Upwork or Fiverr. The internet doesn’t ask for a visa, and at today’s rate, $100 is about ₦133,000.
Save something, even if it’s small.
Every time money comes in, keep a part of it aside before you spend, even just ₦500. Put it in a savings app or a separate account, so you’re not tempted to touch it. That small habit is what gives you options later. Some months there’ll be nothing left to save, and that’s okay. Start again the next month.
If you want to japa, japa with a plan.
Get your passport and documents ready early, save for the process, and check every visa route on the embassy’s official website. Stay away from agents who promise “sure visa”, because many of them are scammers. While you plan, build a skill that also pays you here, in case the door stays shut.
If you’re staying, start something small.
Look for a problem people around you keep complaining about, the way the POS guy did. Sell something, fix something, or offer a service on WhatsApp or Instagram. Nigeria’s biggest wins have come from small things built by ordinary people.
Do your part for the floor.
Get your PVC. When politicians show up with rice and T-shirts, ask them about light, security and the price of food. If you can, learn the names of your local government chairman and your member of the House of Representatives, and ask them questions too. Even if you never do any of that, don’t give up your vote. When elections come, go out and vote.
Lift someone up.
Share an opportunity, teach someone your skill, or link a friend to a job. When one of us wins, more of us get a chance.
Protect your hope.
Spend less time on news and videos that only make you angry, and more time on things you can change. Hope that waits for the government gets tired. Hope that comes with a plan keeps you going. And if you’ve been carrying all of this alone, talk to someone you trust. You’re not the only one feeling it.
It’s hard to believe Nigeria can get better when people are being kidnapped on our highways, when prices change every week, and when light is a luxury. I know that.
But history tells a different story. Countries like ours have climbed out of worse. Nigeria itself has done better before. And most of what works here today was built by people like you and me. So yes, I believe Nigeria will get better, even if it’s slow.
If you read this far, I think a part of you still wants to believe it too. So do I.
Our parents said “e go better” and waited for it.
Maybe our version should be “e go better, because I go do my part.”
Happy Independence Day, Nigeria. Arise, O compatriots.