An Independence Love Letter to Nigeria

Nigeria,

You and I

we’ve been tangled in this toxic dance for as long as I can remember.

You are the lover I can’t leave, the flame that burns me but keeps me warm.

You break my heart, yet my heart won’t stop beating for you.

I’ve seen you dressed in your brightest colors

green fields of possibility, white threads of peace

but I’ve also seen you stripped bare,

corruption gnawing at your bones,

broken promises bleeding from your lips,

hardship settling heavy on your children’s shoulders.

Nigeria, you are the lie and the truth,

the wound and the healer,

the chaos and the calm.

You are the kind of love that leaves scars,

yet somehow, those scars glow with stubborn beauty.

I’ve loved you through queues for fuel that never ends,

through leaders who feast while the people hunger,

through dreams stalled in traffic on roads pockmarked with neglect.

I’ve cursed you under my breath when the light goes out,

and still,

I’ve danced under your sun to the rhythm of Afrobeats,

my soul stitched together by your drumbeats,

my lips sweetened by suya smoke and jollof fire.

Nigeria, you are a paradox.

A toxic love, addictive, consuming

but how can I leave when your music lives in my veins?

When your people rise each dawn with laughter,

with hustle, with endless creativity,

turning scraps into masterpieces,

turning pain into poetry?

You’ve hurt me, Nigeria.

Let me say it plain.

You’ve disappointed me more times than I can count.

You’ve stolen from me,

lied to me,

left me stranded in the dark

yet even in the dark, your stars shine.

Because your beauty is not in your rulers.

It’s in your people.

The market women singing as they sell.

The young tech dreamers in Yaba building tomorrow.

The artists splashing rebellion on cracked walls.

The athletes carrying your name across oceans.

The resilience that refuses to bow.

You are broken, Nigeria, but you are not defeated.

And so, I write you this letter not to walk away

but to remind you of what we still can be.

Like a lover who chooses to stay,

I believe in your redemption.

I believe that your scars can heal into strength.

That your wounds can become wisdom.

That your diversity your tongues, your tribes, your colors

is not a curse but your crown.

Yes, Nigeria,

I dream of the day we live your motto,

not as words on paper but as breath in our lungs:

Unity in Diversity.

For in our differences lies our strength.

In our struggles lies our solidarity.

And in our love this raw, complicated, unbreakable love

lies our future.

So hear me, Nigeria:

I will fight for you, even when you fail me.

I will believe in you, even when you betray me.

I will hold on, because I know

one day, you will rise into the greatness you were born for.

This is not just my promise.

It is my prayer.

Nigeria, I will love you until you love me back.