The Dilemma - by Letters From Delight

When I was in Senior Secondary School, I held the position of Press Club President. A huge part of my responsibility was ensuring that the news was read publicly to students on the assembly ground every Monday morning. Before Mondays, I would make my way to the Principal's office to collect updated newspapers.But as boarding students, it was never just about collecting newspapers, documenting the stories, or performing my duties as Press Club President.We were confined within the four walls of a building for at least three months at a stretch, almost completely oblivious to what was happening outside our little community. There was a certain peace in not knowing that your nation was, in some ways, tearing apart. Within those walls, our aspirations remained uncomplicated. "I want to go to the University of Ibadan to study Law, Medicine, Nursing, and Political Science." That was enough to occupy our minds and give us something to look forward to. Getting the news was thrilling. Flipping through the pages of a newspaper, discovering what had happened beyond the familiar walls of our school, was exciting. Sometimes, the stories were so unsettling that they left a knot in your stomach. Sometimes, the news would report how armed men had robbed an entire community of its means of livelihood, its families, and its homes. And there I was, scribbling those stories onto an A4 sheet of paper, trying to select the most gripping ones, the kind that would leave students shouting and whispering into each other's ears. Hands on their heads, hands shielding their open mouths, their faces reflecting the sheer bewilderment these atrocities evoked. Amidst all this, my mind would wander to a question: What does humanity truly mean to us?I could never understand why a person, or a group of people, would deliberately choose to make another person's life miserable. Why would anyone willingly become the reason another human being loses their home, their livelihood, their peace, or even their loved ones?I kept asking myself, why?I was only fourteen years old. As I flip further, I see the hike of fuel price. I didn't understand what that meant entirely. And I guess my mates didn't either. We thought it was just the government carrying out its responsibility. Little did we know that the hiked prices had an effect on us young people— in almost every aspect of our lives. From education and employment to mental health, relationships, entrepreneurship and our ability to contribute meaningfully to society. In Nigeria, where many young people depend on public transportation, affordable food, petrol-powered electricity generators and small businesses for their daily survival, an increase in fuel prices is not just an economic issue. It is an issue that affects the quality of life, opportunities and future of an entire generation. We had hopes, aspirations, and dreams, unfamiliar with the realities of our country, Nigeria. Sometimes, I wish we had known.My bunkmate woke up every morning with the unwavering hope of becoming one of the best medical doctors the world would ever know. Her white laboratory coat, always well-ironed, was perhaps a reflection of how clearly she could picture the future she wanted. But shortly after secondary school, she encountered the reality that, sometimes, money determines who gets admission and who is left behind. And even after gaining admission into a higher institution, she found herself struggling to keep up with a life she had never bargained for.Now, she is burdened with fears even while travelling to school. The journey that should bring her closer to her dreams has become another source of anxiety. Somewhere in the back of her mind is the unsettling possibility that she could become the next headline in the news. Our Principal sold us the same lie at every assembly: we are the leaders of tomorrow.We were expected to dress properly, read until our candles burned down at night, remain disciplined, and pass our examinations in flying colours. We were taught to believe that hard work, good character, and academic excellence would eventually earn us a place in the society we were preparing to lead. Little did we know that spaces were not being carved out for us. That much of what we had been told was a fantasy.Little did we know that, in the Nigeria we were growing up in, it sometimes seemed as though the prerequisites for aspiring to a senatorial or presidential seat were a track record of embezzling a trillion naira without accounting for it, and having been an ex-convict at least twice. Certificates? An account of the schools attended and graduated from? Those hardly seemed to matter in the picture I was beginning to paint of my country. Now, I understand what Asa meant when she sang, "There is fire on the mountain, and nobody seems to be on the run." I could go on and on, but my ink has run dry. It can no longer keep writing about this calamity of a nation. I don't want to be fourteen again, oblivious to the realities of my country. I am nineteen now, and I understand that we are the leaders of today, not tomorrow. And so, I want spaces to be carved out for us. I want young people to disrupt the system because we can. I want Nikole from the Political Science Department to dream big enough to graduate with good grades and find her way into the Senate at twenty-four, reforming policies and shaping the very decisions that will determine the future of her generation. I want young people in primary and secondary schools to have a say in the kind of education they desire. I want them to have a voice in the education system, to have access to the Minister of Education, and to speak directly about the issues that concern them. Where education budgets are not being channelled into the pockets of hungry politicians, but rather used to build conducive classrooms in underserved communities. I want a Nigeria where students do not have to lose months of their lives to incessant strikes. I want a strike-free Nigeria.I want a country where young people are not merely told that they are the leaders of tomorrow but are given the opportunities, platforms, and resources to lead today.Until then…Pen drops. Written by Paul Delight Emah© 2026 Paul Delight Emah. All rights reserved.

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