There is a joke Nigerians make that “Nigeria is not a country; it is a concept.” And it seems that, over the years, this “concept”, Nigeria, has become more and more complex to comprehend.

The Nigeria we know today is a country where the National Grid has collapsed over 100 times between 2010 and 2026, yet electricity bills arrive monthly without any changes. The Nigeria we know today is where over 63% of the population lives below the poverty line. A country where a policeman can shoot an unarmed suspect in broad daylight. We are a country of extremes that somehow coexist without resolution.

Sequel to the above, there are two types of Nigerians. The first has made peace with the system; they buy generators, install solar, sink boreholes, take loans to register their children in private schools, and call it “sorting yourself out.” The second type still carries this “stubborn” belief that the country can work. Most Nigerians, if you are being honest, are both at once, adapting with one hand, hoping with the other.

However, we can’t shy away from the fact that the present reality is not entirely grim. For example, Nigeria’s film industry now generates over $600 million annually, placing it among the top three in the world by volume. Afrobeats, too, is a global currency. Nigerian engineers are seen on the big stages, at Google, Microsoft, SpaceX, etc. The talent has never been the problem. The raw material for greatness is here. What is absent is the infrastructure and the right system meant to hold it together.

The Nigeria we dream of is not a utopia. Nobody reasonable is asking for perfection. The dream is to have a country where a civil servant does not have to collect a bribe to pay school fees because his salary is moderate and the cost of living is low. A country where a young doctor does not have to choose between staying and watching patients die without medical equipment or leaving the country and being called a traitor for it. A country where ASUU does not go on strike every now and then because the government values furnishing its cabinets more than the education system. The Nigeria we dream of is one where the rules apply to everyone, including the people who make the rules.

Now, this is not the first time these issues have been raised, and this conversation becomes useless if we stop at complaints or dreams alone. Countries do not change from the top down first. They change when people at every level, both public and private, carry out their responsibilities properly. The contractor who builds to specification even when they can cut corners undetected. The business owner who pays tax without being chased.

It also requires reducing reliance on informal arrangements. Many people depend on personal connections to get results because they expect formal systems to fail. While this may solve immediate problems, it weakens institutions further. Following proper processes, even when slower, is necessary for long-term improvement.

The gap between the Nigeria we know and the Nigeria we dream of is tangible. But it is not a gap of resources or intelligence; Nigeria has both in embarrassing quantities. It is a gap of will. And will, unlike oil, is something every Nigerian already has access to.

The question is: when will enough of us decide to use it positively?