As a little girl, I had many hopes and aspirations that made each day unique. Every one of my aspirations seemed achievable to me until I was told that Nigeria could not offer me what I desired. I did not believe this at first, but the truth hit me like a piercing sword. As I continued to grow, I began to understand that present-day Nigeria contradicts the Nigeria I dreamed of. But is there really a difference between the Nigeria we know and the one we dream of? This essay answers that question by illustrating the differences between the two and exploring how we can transform the Nigeria we know into the Nigeria we dream of.

The Nigeria I know has little regard for public schools. Frankly speaking, public schools should be the best in terms of quality teachers, good infrastructure, standard social amenities, and much more because they are owned and controlled by the government. Yes, this is a typical example of the Nigeria we dream of, but present-day Nigeria is the reverse. I am not imagining what students in public schools are going through; I am speaking from experience because I attended a public secondary school. Public schools are jam-packed with students, about 80 per cent of whom come from poor homes. That, in itself, is not a hard nut to crack, but the real problem is that teachers are insufficient, and the few available are struggling. Many of them, if not all, have other businesses they attend to immediately after school hours, which has drastically reduced their activeness in class.

Someone once told me that Nigeria was deceiving herself. I asked how. He asked me to consider how Nigerian universities offer courses for which the country cannot provide employment opportunities after graduation. I never understood this until I had a discussion with a man who was known to be a tricycle driver. He revealed that he was a master’s degree holder. I asked him what he was doing driving a tricycle with such a qualification. He then explained that he had graduated seven years earlier, hoping to secure a good job, but his hopes were dashed when he could not find a job related to what he had studied. I made it clear to him, however, that there should be adequate preparation for young people. This preparation should be so impactful that a young person should know where they are going to work after graduation from the very first day they step into a university.

The Nigeria I dream of has light that doesn’t need an apology. Not because we have more generators, but because Kainji works and nobody is stealing the cables. My brother does homework at 9 p.m. under a bulb, not a phone torch. The barber keeps his profit and buys his son a laptop.

I strongly believe that the Nigeria we know can be transformed into the one we dream of. My dad will always tell me that when opportunity meets preparedness, success is certain. This has, in several cases, prepared me to accept the Nigeria we dream of, because one’s past does not define one’s future. The same also applies to a country. The Nigeria we dream of can become a reality if we remain resilient, hardworking, and hopeful.