Nigeria at 65: Celebrate or Complain? A Brutal Inventory of a Nation That is Still Waiting. 

By George Omagbemi Sylvester

65 years of independence, millions still unfree; is this the PARTY or the PROTEST?

October 1, 2025; Today Nigeria turns 65. Sixty-five years after a proud “GOOD MORNING, NIGERIA” and the handing over of colonial keys, a short, simple question refuses to go away: IS THERE ANY GENUINE CAUSE TO CELEBRATE? If celebration means parading achievements; stable electricity, full hospitals, decent schools, security in every region, a currency people can trust and a population that is not hungry, then the answer is not a cheerful “yes.” It is a complicated, discomforting “NOT YET.”

Let us begin with the cold arithmetic. The economy shows faint green shoots in official statistics: headline inflation has eased from the peaks of recent years to about 20.1% in August 2025 and the IMF has nudged its 2025 growth projection into positive territory (around 3.4%). That is progress; but context matters. For most Nigerians, falling inflation from an unbearable peak to a still-punishing 20% does not translate to cheaper food, affordable medicine or meaningful wage power. The Central Bank’s recent policy tweaks and interest-rate cuts are important, but they are corrective needles, not a cure for a sick system.

On security and civic trust, the LEDGER is WORSE. Regions of the country remain under the blight of insurgency, banditry and kidnapping; civilian life in places is lived with the constant thrum of fear. Political tensions have hardened into institutional distrust: high-profile detentions and contested court processes have become part of the national drama, underscoring that the rule of law is still fragile for many. The recent courtroom orders and repeated legal showdowns involving separatist and opposition figures are a reminder that the crown of sovereignty sometimes feels like a heavy crown of discord.

If independence at 65 were to be measured by civic pride and national ceremony, this year’s official calendar offers an apt metaphor for our contradictions. The federal government declared October 1 a public holiday and then cancelled the central parade that traditionally showcased the best of our military and civic institutions. Symbolically, it was as if the state were saying: “We will mark the day, but with caution.” It is a fine mirror of a nation that wants to be seen as mature but often chooses optics over substantive repair.

Voices on the street and on social media are blunt. Activist Omoyele Sowore (who has made “FREEDOM” his watchword) asks an uncomfortable question: how do you wish people “HAPPY INDEPENDENCE” who are not in fact independent from HUNGER, POOR GOVERNANCE and FEAR? His rhetorical provocation is not nihilism; it is a call to examine the yawning gap between ceremonial independence and everyday liberty. Meanwhile comedians and social critics like Gordons and I Go Dye use ridicule and satire to puncture the pomp: their jokes contain the sting of truth, that our national house was built on shaky foundations and our leaders keep painting over the cracks. Satire here is not frivolity; it is a civic thermometer.

From the technocratic bench, Dr. Ngozi Okonjo-Iweala (an economist and global diplomat who has repeatedly warned about governance failures in Nigeria) reminds us that structural reform is not optional. Her public interventions and published commentary stress that corruption, poor public goods delivery and weak institutions are the clamps that stifle investment and opportunity. She has argued, repeatedly and patiently, that national wealth alone does not make citizens free; how the state allocates resources, invests in education/ health and attracts responsible capital does. Words from the global stage: PROGRESS requires COMPETENCE as much as cash.

And then there are the politicians whose rhetoric swings between consoling citizens and sparring over blame. Opposition leader Atiku Abubakar (a veteran of Nigeria’s national stage) hailed Nigerians resilience on this anniversary while pointing a finger at the ruling administration for “ABANDONING” citizens to economic pain. His message is part consolation, part indictment: Nigerians have held the country together through courage and improvisation, but representation and accountable governance are glaringly absent.

So: is there cause to celebrate? There is cause to acknowledge endurance. Nigerians are resilient, inventive and endlessly resourceful. From the markets of Kano to tech hubs in Lagos and diaspora remittances that cushion families, resilience is real and worthy of respect. But celebration must not be a substitute for critique. A birthday cake with frosting over rotten fruit is still rotten fruit beneath.

What would genuine celebration (the kind that honors the spirit of independence) actually look like? First, an honest reckoning. The nation must measure itself by lives lived in dignity: lower child mortality, functioning schools, reliable power, safe streets, transparent budgets and a justice system that protects rather than persecutes. Second, a social compact: when citizens pay taxes, they must see public goods. When the state borrows or reformers devalue the currency, the burden should not fall disproportionately on the poorest. Third, inclusion: our democracy must be more than elections; it must be a system where the voices of youth, women and marginalized regions alter policy outcomes.

There is another painful truth: the conversation about Nigeria at 65 is also about choices. For decades, elites have rationed national opportunity through patronage and short-term deals. Artists and satirists, from Gordons to I Go Dye, have lampooned that pattern because laughter sometimes reaches where speeches fail. Activists like Sowore insist that citizenship requires agency, not just slogans. If independence is to mean anything, it must mean the removal of systems that convert public money and trust into private gain.

So how should the citizen respond on this October 1? Not by blind rejoicing. Nor by despair. By demanding accountability, by voting with courage, by supporting institutions that strengthen rather than erode the social fabric and by insisting that our leaders stop treating the country like a family business. If the state cannot deliver the basics, then the people must reform the state.

Nigeria at 65 is not a simple story of failure or triumph. It is a liminal nation; one foot in a painful inheritance, one foot in an uncertain future. There are measurable gains and stubborn, systemic failures side by side. The choice for every Nigerian and for every member of the diaspora who loves this country, is whether this anniversary will be a moment of self-congratulation or a day of recommitment to fundamental change.

If we are honest, we will do both: PAUSE to HONOR the SACRIFICES that BIRTHED the NATION, then get to WORK. The party must end early enough for the real work of nation-building to begin again and with CLARITY, COURAGE and CONSCIENCE.

— George Omagbemi Sylvester, SaharaWeeklyNG.com