Project 9ja Mag The Revolution. 1st Edition | Page 14

Project9ja
The
Biggest
Contrast
What it means to be a Nigerian

Tabitha Mai-kudi
As a Nigerian, I see myself as both blessed and cursed. I look at my environment; lush trees,
beautiful skies, vibrant people and I sigh out, thanking God I’m in this part of the world, belonging. I
watch kids play nonchalantly as I go to the market, men and women donning beautiful geles, hand-
some kaftans and I swell with pride at our immortal culture. I could never feel better when I open to
Instagram and see how artistic young Nigerians create awesome hairstyles, stunning makeup and I’m
satisfied that my people are not ready to carry last in this world.

As I return home, counting my blessings, I almost stumble on a skinny leg I hadn’t noticed. I look
up to peer into weak brown eyes, hands outstretched with a green plastic bowl. The man is not blind,
he’s not lame, he’s just poor and my spirits are dampened a bit at his predicament.
At home, I’m surprised to see my mother in the kitchen; someone who is supposed to be at work. She
looks up at me with an expression that dares me to ask her any question. Later, I get to hear that a that
a strike had been unleashed by the civil servants who haven’t been paid for a long time.

“These people don’t know what they have done to me. If my mother is going to be fully at home,
my own has finished”. Nigerian parents and their issues, ‘Pass that remote for me,’ when it’s a few inch-
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