Nigeria: the Giant of Africa, the king of Jollof rice, and the home of Nollywood. There is a lot to be said, but there is also much we do not like saying out loud — like the tens of millions of unemployed youths, the over 56,000 uncompleted government projects, and the Kwara State massacre, where over 160 people were killed.

The Nigeria we know is the one many of us are ready to “Japa” from. It is a place where you might end up being a university graduate who carries a CV from office to office, only to become a tomato seller, phone repairer, or even worse, an idle youth. It is the Nigeria where our universities graduate millions yearly while the formal economy has few jobs to offer. Most are underemployed, working below their qualifications and swallowed by the informal sector.

It is a Nigeria where insecurity is the order of the day, where you dare not go home late at night because both your phone and your life are at risk. Insurgencies in the North have become common news headlines, with security reports as regular as Lagos traffic updates. It is a place with roads so “good” that it takes three hours to travel a kilometre, where we shout “Up NEPA!” while clutching a power bank because we do not know when the light will go off. Our railway remains a never-ending project.

But then, there is another Nigeria: the one we dream of, the one we wake up wanting and ache for in our hearts.

We dream of a trillion-dollar economy built on commercialised agriculture. Farming is mechanised and profitable, with young agri-preneurs running the show. Manufacturing meets local demand. We export far more than we import because agriculture is no longer seen as a “dirty” job. Our “Japa” brothers return with capital and expertise. Our youths are no longer seen as a burden but as a demographic dividend — a young population that is properly educated and employed, building the nation rather than draining it.

We dream of a Nigeria where Technical and Vocational Education and Training (TVET) is as respected as university degrees. As early as JSS1, students start learning different skills, not just domestic skills but technological ones, too. Our digital economy thrives, and remote work employs millions.

We want a Nigeria where our Northern brothers no longer move from camp to camp, fleeing insurgency; where human lives are not cut short by “unknown gunmen”; and where we can walk home at any time of the day without fear of the unknown because the “unknown” have jobs to keep them busy.

We dream of a Nigeria where we can proudly beat our chests when we mention the train as a mode of transportation; a place where roads are durable and connect people to markets. We dream of a Nigeria where Uncle Okey’s vegetables and yams do not spoil because he cannot transport them. A Nigeria where our mothers do not have to carry chargers, alongside their makeup and cream, to social occasions.

The gap between these two Nigerias is not a deep chasm. Closing it requires choices. Choices to fund technical education over empty promises. Choices to see agriculture as an industry, not just a subsistence activity. Choices to understand that a jobless youth represents failed infrastructure, just like a road that never gets built. Every unbuilt road means a harvest that rots and a business that never opens. The figure of 56,000 is not just a statistic; it represents futures delayed.

Now I pass the pen to you, because this dream cannot be achieved by writing essays alone. It will be built by those who dream and rise to chase those dreams. Until then, our mothers will still carry chargers, and Emeka will still “Japa”. But the dream — it waits.