I got into a conversation (as I often do) with two Nigerians in the United States last month. As I have realized every time I travel abroad and interact with my compatriots in the diaspora, their keen interest and nostalgia over Nigeria never seem to wane despite their initial vituperations and sometimes imprecations hurled at our leaders, whether past or present. I always enjoy these sessions, and as I was soon to find out, I became a compelling cynosure of interactions and debates on national issues anytime I visited. My friends and relatives would often bounce opinions off me as soon as they got news that I was in town. I could go on sometimes for hours on multiway conference calls with folks from different states and time zones in America on issues of national interest with often controversial perspectives.

Last August, one of such discourses took place when my very close cousin, whom we fondly call by his childhood moniker, Jango, got me on the phone with his Nigerian friend, who I was meeting for the first time on the telephone. Interestingly, what was intended to be a business conversation soon suffered an expected distraction when it got into the now customary question: “kilo n sele ni Nigeria?””What is happening in Nigeria?””This government is clueless!””They don’t seem to know what they are doing;””We are so disappointed.””Where is the change?” The barrage of evocations was ceaseless. My quagmire was further worsened because I am one of those who believed that things needed to change last year. My lasting reprieve came when I responded to my ‘adversaries’ with this proprietary parable that aptly describes the situation of Nigeria – the parable of the termites.

In the forest of the Savannah, a beautiful and expansive castle had been built almost six decades ago and inhabited by many residents; most were born inside this castle and lived there all their lives; some not freeborn dwelled in it as well; there were yet others that often come in and out to buy and sell items to the denizens of this castle.This building, I tell my telephone audience was built exactly like their houses in the United States, of wood.

A few termites were brought into the house by the earliest dwellers and left unattended to over the decades, festering, untreated and unrestrained in their proliferation; even the bastions of the house got hugely infested by the pest. Anthills soon became part of the grotesque artistry of the castle, doting the corridors, balconies, rooms and living areas.This house had been leased out for specific tenures to different people over the years, and none attended to the pestiferous situation but rather paid lip service to it.They conducted their businesses, made profit into their private purses and left as soon as their tenure expired or sometimes were evicted by the inmates.

Recently, the occupants of the house decided to offer it to a new lessor at the expiration of the previous lease.They would not agree to renew the lease of the last letter. Their main grouse being that maintenance, necessary repair work or development had never been done on the building since it was built, rents and royalties received were neither remitted nor accounted for, and all promises had failed.They had been taken for granted for too long. It was time to bring in a new person who promised to change things, and they trusted him to. He would not allow the old order and assured of massive renovation and repair of the failing and dilapidated building.The structures would be strengthened; the termites would be treated, and the castle would be restored at least to its primordial glory.

Not too long after taking possession of the property, the latest lessor realizes there is scarcely any part of the structure that has not been overrun by the termites. Pillars, beams, stanchions, deck, ceiling, door posts, cabinets, roof, floor, are not spared. Little wonder the merchants that patronized the castle had lately withdrawn their wares and moved to other neighborhoods. This building was bound to collapse on its inmates if nothing is urgently done. They are faced with three possible options.

The first voices suggest demolition of the building, treatment of the entire foundation and surroundings and erecting a new and contemporary structure that would be fit for purpose. In this proposition, everyone would have his room, take his rent and they would share concourse and common areas.The challenge with this option is where would the residents move to while the demolition and reconstruction are going on? They have no other home, and the household is too large for their neighbors to accommodate them.

The second option is to begin an extensive fumigation and termite treatment so that new beams and other necessary materials can be brought in to replace the badly destroyed ones. These new pieces of wood and materials are proving difficult to purchase since the commercial activities of the merchants have dwindled, but we can perhaps still draw on some vestiges of goodwill to get some on credit or concession from friendly neighbors. As soon as this option is announced, many agree this is the way to go as these termites have caused immense damage and suffering over the years and the numerous termitaria have constituted impedance to decent living and become an embarrassing eyesore.”That is our major problem,” they noised. “If the termites can be dealt with, we will all have a better lease of life; that is what we have always told our past landlords,” they chorus in wild excitement.

Anon, the fumigation starts. No sooner has the war against the termites commenced, a hubbub envelops the household. So much unease because the fumigant though slowly exterminating the termites, begin to choke the dwellers.They begin a tumultuous agitation that the fumigation should stop immediately. “It will kill everybody; leave the termites alone”they soon retort. “After all, we have been living with them all the while.”

This leaves us with only one more possibility, which is to spare the house of any treatment and bid our time until its imminent collapse. We can fold our hands and do nothing; hope that things would sort themselves out as we have done over the last five decades or more. Perhaps the termites will fall down and die if we pray hard enough to God since we are a very religious household that prays every dawn, never fail to offer our evening sacrifices and areincessant intruders into the midnight hours.
If God then does nothing, (I do not have any recollections of Him killing termites), then we can all take our hymnals and prepare for the grand requiem mass. Let us acquaint ourselves with the lyrics of our Nunc Dimittis.

My ‘assailants’ like many of my compatriots have not chosen from the available options neither have they offered any other.

He that has ears, let him hear.

by Kekere Omo-Obafemi