<p>Patriotism.</p><p><br/></p><p>I didn't even know that was a thing in Nigeria.</p><p><br/></p><p>I don't think most Nigerians know what patriotism is. And if they do, I don't think most of them care. Not because Nigerians are selfish or incapable of loving their country, but because there is only so much space in your head for love of country when you're already using most of it to figure out how to survive.</p><p>If you work a nine-to-five and have to travel from Ikorodu to TBS every weekday, trust me, patriotism is probably the least of your worries.</p><p>Between trying to look as neat as possible in the morning, fighting traffic, getting through an exhausting workday, worrying about your next meal, your next bill and your next salary, and trying to get home quickly enough to hug your bed and have another round of "God abeg" session, I'm not sure when exactly you're supposed to sit down and think about national development.</p><p>Have you ever come home, had to force yourself to cook because who is your maid, only to run out of gas? Try thinking about patriotism then.</p><p>I know what patriotism means.</p><p>But am I a patriot? No.</p><p>Do I plan to change? No.</p><p>I'd rather put that energy into becoming richer.</p><p>And perhaps that's a joke in a country where the system seems designed to make the rich richer and the poor poorer.</p><p>Because here's another thing I think about Nigeria: living here can actually be relatively comfortable if you're rich enough.</p><p>IF you're rich enough.</p><p>Money can buy you a completely different Nigeria.</p><p>You get richer at the expense of others. You get a free pass because of who you are. Doors open for you. Rooms get quiet for you. People stand up to greet you. Some people look at you wishing they were you. Some look at you with jealousy. Some look at you with respect. And some look at you and wonder if you did ritual.</p><p>That is almost always the first and most rational definition of wealth in Nigeria </p><p>You can earn what sounds like a small amount in dollars and have millions of naira sitting in your account. You can pay your workforce well enough that people flock to work for you because, by Nigerian standards, the salary is good. You can provide jobs.</p><p>But even that has limits because there are only so many people you need to employ.</p><p>And while you're building your little empire, thousands of other Nigerians are fighting for the few spaces available to them.</p><p>We were told growing up that "we are the leaders of tomorrow".</p><p>That is probably one of the biggest lies we were fed.</p><p>Because look at us.</p><p>No,really look.</p><p>We're constantly being told to work harder, adapt, hustle, survive and build the country while the people who have spent decades holding power seem to have developed a deep attachment to their positions.</p><p>Education is supposed to be the best legacy.</p><p>Yet a former vice chancellor of a reputable university could argue that increasing school fees to one million naira is justifiable, despite the fact that the institution in question is a public university.</p><p>This is coming from someone who went to school when school fees were seven hundred naira, by the way. Oga o.</p><p>You cannot understand what it feels like to be on the receiving end of that statement unless you've actually had to calculate what that one million means.</p><p>Because cost of living will wreck you.</p><p>Responsibilities will choke you.</p><p>Rent. Utilities. Transportation. Food.</p><p>And if you have children? Omo, you're in for a ride.</p><p>Meanwhile, Nigerians are always moving.</p><p>Always.</p><p>Because in this country, every moment you waste feels like money you have lost.</p><p>You cannot even afford to be depressed. You're too busy to be depressed because depression is for the rich.</p><p>Because if you stop working, you don't simply stop working. You stop earning. And if you stop earning for long enough, you risk losing the things you spent years trying to build.</p><p>You are disposable.</p><p>Mess up at the job you fought so hard to get and someone else is waiting.</p><p>Thousands of graduates would gladly take your spot.</p><p>You absolutely cannot mess up.</p><p>So in a country where everyone is constantly running, where stopping can mean falling behind, where falling behind can mean losing everything, where exactly do you expect people to find the time to think about building Nigeria?</p><p>Where do you expect them to find the time to care about a country that keeps giving them the bare minimum?</p><p>And then the same country turns around and demands patriotism.</p><p>What exactly are we supposed to be loyal to?</p><p>The corruption?</p><p>The infrastructure that barely works?</p><p>The constant struggle to survive?</p><p>The leaders who refuse to make room for a younger generation?</p><p>The system that takes from ordinary people repeatedly and then asks them to be grateful for whatever is left?</p><p><br/></p><p>"No more way for poor people".</p><p><br/></p><p>That has to be one of the realest Nigerian quotes I've ever heard.</p><p>The average Nigerian is too busy trying to build a life to focus on building Nigeria.</p><p>And this isn't because Nigerians don't have the ability to build.</p><p>It is because we are tired.</p><p>Corruption has now become a way of life, so much so that even a child knows it as well as they know their own name. We have "normalized" it as usual.</p><p>So no, I don't think we owe the country anything.</p><p>Does that sound harsh? Maybe.</p><p>But does a country not also have a responsibility to its people?</p><p>How much should patriotism demand from an individual whose country has failed to provide even the bare minimum?</p><p>At some point, loyalty starts sounding less like patriotism and more like an expectation that citizens should keep sacrificing themselves for a system that has not demonstrated the same willingness to sacrifice for them.</p><p>Does a Nigerian have a "responsibility" to stay and "build" the country?</p><p>Responsibility?</p><p>Build?</p><p>Do not kid me.</p><p>Responsibilities are for people with rights, but that's besides the point.</p><p>We are losing capable young people to "Japa" every day.</p><p>But who will fault them?</p><p>Who dares to?</p><p>I think I'm probably one of the few people who doesn't actually want to Japa from Nigeria.</p><p>Yes, I want to travel.</p><p>I want to see the world. I want to experience other countries. I want to go places I've never been.</p><p>But do I want to live there?No.</p><p>And no, it isn't because I'm secretly some great patriot.</p><p>Far from it.</p><p>I simply don't want to leave.</p><p>Those are two very different things.</p><p>I don't think people should have to prove their love for Nigeria by sacrificing their quality of life.</p><p>And I don't think leaving automatically means you hate your country.</p><p>If anything, perhaps the question we should be asking is why so many people feel that leaving is their only realistic option.</p><p>We are losing doctors, engineers, academics, entrepreneurs, creatives and other capable young Nigerians. We call it brain drain.</p><p>But perhaps we should also ask what drained the brain in the first place.</p><p>Enough words cannot describe the frustration that comes with being a citizen of a country that keeps failing you, not because it is incapable of doing better, but because the people with the power to make things better repeatedly fail to do so.</p><p>Yet WE survive.</p><p><br/></p><p>We adapt.</p><p><br/></p><p>We improvise.</p><p><br/></p><p>We find another route when the road is bad. We find another source of income when one salary isn't enough. We build businesses from our bedrooms. We turn almost nothing into something. We keep going when stopping would be easier.</p><p><br/></p><p>We are "proud" Nigerians.</p><p><br/></p><p>But being a proud Nigerian doesn't mean we are proud of Nigeria.</p><p>No.</p><p>It simply means being proud of the people we have become despite Nigeria.</p><p>We are proud because we refuse to break.</p><p>Breaking is not even an option when you come from a place like Nigeria.</p><p>So, is it Nigeria's fault?</p><p>I mean, she's just a girl.</p><p>That's a question I'd ponder, but I'm too busy thinking about what I'm going to do after university because I refuse to sit at home like every other graduate.</p><p>And maybe that's the real burden of being Nigerian.</p><p>Not patriotism.</p><p>Survival.</p>