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5 Reasons to be Rebellious as a Nigerian

September 29th, 2024

by Similoluwa Ifedayo

In every corner of Nigeria, a silent siege is taking place. It’s not the kind of siege that makes headlines or sparks protests. Instead, it’s a quieter, more insidious force—one that begins at birth and often lasts a lifetime. This siege targets the mind, limiting potential, shrinking dreams, and reinforcing the idea that life is about survival, not thriving. If you’re born into a rich family, the bullet grazes you once. If you’re born into an average family, it hits you twice. And if you’re born into a poor family, you’re hit again and again. No matter where you start, you get hit. The difference is in how hard you have to fight to thrive.

As someone who didn’t grow up in the elite part of Lagos, I felt this weight—a constant, unspoken pressure from the adults around me. Everyone seemed to live a ‘normal’ life, but I never felt normal. The first change for me came through books, opening my eyes to what could be. The second came through writing, giving me the power to create my own world. The third came when I spent holidays in Magodo, an upscale estate in Lagos, where I saw how rich kids behaved, spoke, and reacted. At first, I felt different because I wasn’t as privileged. But I excelled, thanks to the solid education my parents had given me. This experience taught me a crucial difference: between learning about something and actually experiencing it.

As children, we ask big questions out of curiosity. “Why is 2+2 = four and not five?” “Why do stars shine?” But as we grow older, those questions shrink. The weight of our environment presses down, whispering a single, suffocating message: Stay in your lane. Don’t reach too high.

Reason 1: The Cultural Cage

Nigeria’s rich culture is a source of pride, but it can also be a cage. From birth, we are taught to adhere to societal norms that define who we should be — especially when it comes to gender roles and life paths. If you’re a girl child, it’s harder. The first limits placed on your mind often come from your immediate surroundings — family, religion, and community. It’s not just that people tell you that you can’t be global, it’s the rarity or near-impossibility of seeing anyone around you on global stages.

Young girls are often told their place is in the home, while boys are nudged towards roles offering status and stability. The result? A rigid structure that defines success within narrow bounds. Straying from these expectations is seen as rebellious, even disrespectful.

In this cultural cage, ambition is encouraged only if it doesn’t challenge the status quo. The deep respect for elders, though valuable, sometimes stifles the voices of younger generations, preventing them from expressing innovative ideas. The collective voice of society says: follow, don’t lead; conform, don’t question. This mentality limits people to traditional roles, shackling their true potential to what’s culturally acceptable, not what they’re capable of.

Dear Nigerian, when you must — for the sake of your dreams — be rebellious.

Reason 2: Dreams Meet Concrete

In Nigeria, dreaming often feels like trying to grow a flower in concrete. There’s no lack of ambition or desire, but the environment rarely nurtures them. Poor infrastructure, unstable governance, and corruption create a harsh climate for anything that needs cultivation.

How can you dream of building a tech startup when electricity is unstable? How can you aspire to become a world-class artist when access to creative tools is limited? How can you train to be a pilot when the cost of education is prohibitively high? How do you study at night when you are out of electricity? How can you think deeply when you are hungry?

For many, the dream isn’t to change the world, but simply to make it through the day. In a country where opportunities are scarce, dreams often wither under the weight of daily survival. Students focus on cramming for exams instead of seeking understanding for bigger stages. Society doesn’t even encourage deep thinking.

Reason 3: Mental Borders in a Land Without Walls

Nigeria’s physical environment builds mental borders, even in places where the possibilities seem endless. In rural areas, the lack of libraries, internet access, and educational resources creates an isolation that’s hard to escape. Even in urban centres, where access to global information is available, there’s still a disconnect. It’s like peering through a window at a world you can’t quite touch.

These invisible barriers make the world feel smaller. When the tools to dream big are out of reach, people stop imagining beyond their immediate environment. The future becomes a distant land reserved for others, but not for them.

Reason 4: The Poverty of Aspiration

Poverty doesn’t just drain bank accounts — it drains aspirations. In communities where survival is the priority, dreaming is a luxury. Many lack the mental bandwidth to imagine a life beyond their current circumstances. Economic pressure kills off the energy needed to aspire.

It’s not that people don’t want more — they do. But when you’re trapped in a cycle of scarcity, constantly worrying about your next meal or how to pay school fees, the audacity to dream feels almost absurd.

Reason 5: The Myth of ‘It Is What It Is’

“It is what it is.” This phrase captures the deep resignation embedded in Nigerian culture. It’s not just a statement of acceptance; it’s an admission of defeat. Many Nigerians have learned to expect little from their environment, and even less from the system. A belief has taken root that things won’t change; so why try? This mindset creates a mental prison, one that’s passed down through generations. People stop pushing boundaries, not because they lack the ability, but because they’ve been conditioned to believe that the system is stronger than their will.

Dear Nigerian, to thrive in this country, you must be rebellious — not with violence or chaos, but with your mind. Rebel against the limitations placed on you by your environment. Rebel against cultural expectations that confine your potential. Rebel against the poverty that drains your aspirations, and against the ‘it is what it is’ mentality that tells you to accept less than you deserve.

In a system not designed to nurture your dreams, thriving means questioning the status quo, challenging invisible barriers, and pushing back against a world that tries to keep you small.

Nigeria may limit the mind, but once the mind is aware of its limitations, it can rise and break through. To dream is an act of courage in an environment that doesn’t always allow it. But it’s also the first step to breaking free.

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by Similoluwa Ifedayo

In every corner of Nigeria, a silent siege is taking place. It’s not the kind of siege that makes headlines or sparks protests. Instead, it’s a quieter, more insidious force—one that begins at birth and often lasts a lifetime. This siege targets the mind, limiting potential, shrinking dreams, and reinforcing the idea that life is about survival, not thriving. If you’re born into a rich family, the bullet grazes you once. If you’re born into an average family, it hits you twice. And if you’re born into a poor family, you’re hit again and again. No matter where you start, you get hit. The difference is in how hard you have to fight to thrive.

As someone who didn’t grow up in the elite part of Lagos, I felt this weight—a constant, unspoken pressure from the adults around me. Everyone seemed to live a ‘normal’ life, but I never felt normal. The first change for me came through books, opening my eyes to what could be. The second came through writing, giving me the power to create my own world. The third came when I spent holidays in Magodo, an upscale estate in Lagos, where I saw how rich kids behaved, spoke, and reacted. At first, I felt different because I wasn’t as privileged. But I excelled, thanks to the solid education my parents had given me. This experience taught me a crucial difference: between learning about something and actually experiencing it.

As children, we ask big questions out of curiosity. “Why is 2+2 = four and not five?” “Why do stars shine?” But as we grow older, those questions shrink. The weight of our environment presses down, whispering a single, suffocating message: Stay in your lane. Don’t reach too high.

Reason 1: The Cultural Cage

Nigeria’s rich culture is a source of pride, but it can also be a cage. From birth, we are taught to adhere to societal norms that define who we should be — especially when it comes to gender roles and life paths. If you’re a girl child, it’s harder. The first limits placed on your mind often come from your immediate surroundings — family, religion, and community. It’s not just that people tell you that you can’t be global, it’s the rarity or near-impossibility of seeing anyone around you on global stages.

Young girls are often told their place is in the home, while boys are nudged towards roles offering status and stability. The result? A rigid structure that defines success within narrow bounds. Straying from these expectations is seen as rebellious, even disrespectful.

In this cultural cage, ambition is encouraged only if it doesn’t challenge the status quo. The deep respect for elders, though valuable, sometimes stifles the voices of younger generations, preventing them from expressing innovative ideas. The collective voice of society says: follow, don’t lead; conform, don’t question. This mentality limits people to traditional roles, shackling their true potential to what’s culturally acceptable, not what they’re capable of.

Dear Nigerian, when you must — for the sake of your dreams — be rebellious.

Reason 2: Dreams Meet Concrete

In Nigeria, dreaming often feels like trying to grow a flower in concrete. There’s no lack of ambition or desire, but the environment rarely nurtures them. Poor infrastructure, unstable governance, and corruption create a harsh climate for anything that needs cultivation.

How can you dream of building a tech startup when electricity is unstable? How can you aspire to become a world-class artist when access to creative tools is limited? How can you train to be a pilot when the cost of education is prohibitively high? How do you study at night when you are out of electricity? How can you think deeply when you are hungry?

For many, the dream isn’t to change the world, but simply to make it through the day. In a country where opportunities are scarce, dreams often wither under the weight of daily survival. Students focus on cramming for exams instead of seeking understanding for bigger stages. Society doesn’t even encourage deep thinking.

Reason 3: Mental Borders in a Land Without Walls

Nigeria’s physical environment builds mental borders, even in places where the possibilities seem endless. In rural areas, the lack of libraries, internet access, and educational resources creates an isolation that’s hard to escape. Even in urban centres, where access to global information is available, there’s still a disconnect. It’s like peering through a window at a world you can’t quite touch.

These invisible barriers make the world feel smaller. When the tools to dream big are out of reach, people stop imagining beyond their immediate environment. The future becomes a distant land reserved for others, but not for them.

Reason 4: The Poverty of Aspiration

Poverty doesn’t just drain bank accounts — it drains aspirations. In communities where survival is the priority, dreaming is a luxury. Many lack the mental bandwidth to imagine a life beyond their current circumstances. Economic pressure kills off the energy needed to aspire.

It’s not that people don’t want more — they do. But when you’re trapped in a cycle of scarcity, constantly worrying about your next meal or how to pay school fees, the audacity to dream feels almost absurd.

Reason 5: The Myth of ‘It Is What It Is’

“It is what it is.” This phrase captures the deep resignation embedded in Nigerian culture. It’s not just a statement of acceptance; it’s an admission of defeat. Many Nigerians have learned to expect little from their environment, and even less from the system. A belief has taken root that things won’t change; so why try? This mindset creates a mental prison, one that’s passed down through generations. People stop pushing boundaries, not because they lack the ability, but because they’ve been conditioned to believe that the system is stronger than their will.

Dear Nigerian, to thrive in this country, you must be rebellious — not with violence or chaos, but with your mind. Rebel against the limitations placed on you by your environment. Rebel against cultural expectations that confine your potential. Rebel against the poverty that drains your aspirations, and against the ‘it is what it is’ mentality that tells you to accept less than you deserve.

In a system not designed to nurture your dreams, thriving means questioning the status quo, challenging invisible barriers, and pushing back against a world that tries to keep you small.

Nigeria may limit the mind, but once the mind is aware of its limitations, it can rise and break through. To dream is an act of courage in an environment that doesn’t always allow it. But it’s also the first step to breaking free.