by Adedayo Ademuwagun

YNaija organised a situation room during the governorship elections few weeks back and I was one of the analysts. We were talking about the elections as they were happening.

Then at one point we had a bit of a situation in the situation room.  I think someone said something about people voting in favour of their ethnicity, and then Boladale Adekoya was like, ‘We cannot sit here sipping soft drinks and pretend that everything is fine between us in this country. We’re divided along ethnic lines.’

Tope Atiba was pissed by that point and he cut in, ‘That’s not correct to say. I cannot sit here at this table and be part of a discussion that promotes such wrong views about our country. I will not accept that.’

Adenike Oyetunde, the host, tried to defuse the situation and then things cooled down and we were back to talking about the elections.

But really, Boladale was right.

We pretend to like each other in this country. But it’s very clear that we don’t like each other. The bad thing is, we don’t even like to talk about our dislike for each other and how we can fix it. We think we can just mask it with a smile and keep trying to move forward together. It doesn’t work like that.

Some years ago my father had a chat with me about marriage and advised me not to marry an Igbo.

Okay, let me speak freely.

He didn’t advise me. He warned me.

I know that’s a bit bigoted, but the man told me many experiences he’s had in the past about how some Igbo had been bad to him or to someone he knew. Tons of terrible real life experiences.

Even if I thought my father was wrong in warning me about marrying Igbo, I have personal experience to support his side of the story.

My mom and dad are Yoruba and they separated when I was a kid. Then my mom moved on, dated an Igbo and had a child for him. The child’s name was Iheoma and also Jumoke.

But her relationship with this man too didn’t work out and she moved on again. Eventually she lost her job and she couldn’t continue to raise me and Jumoke. So she gave up custody of the girl and put her in her father’s care. Then she moved with me back to the village.

I remember many years later when Jumoke was grown a bit and her father won’t let her see us. One day he came to our house, grabbed my mother’s neck and tried to strangle her so he could keep the girl to himself.

This man deprived my mother of her rights to spend time or even be with her own daughter. He turned the girl against her own mother. He removed ‘Jumoke’ from her official name, then when the girl enrolled in university, he put his new Igbo wife in the girl’s records as her mother.

Effectively, this man stripped the girl of her Yoruba identity, kicked her mother out of her life and handed the girl over to his Igbo wife to be her mother.

My mother was very poor. When you’re very poor, you can’t speak up. You can’t stand up.

Years ago the man passed on after an illness and the wife continued his legacy. She refused to give up the child or even let her spend time with her mother. Once my mother went to the girl’s university and introduced herself as the mother. The next day this Igbo woman went there and tried to set the records back in her favour.

Today, the girl is 18. She’s graduating from university this year and she won’t even spend time with her mother even though she can now make these decisions for herself. My mother is crushed that her own daughter doesn’t even want to be with her.

These people broke the bond between Jumoke and her mother. They took her away from us and shut us out. They humiliated my mother. They treated us as if we’re nothing. Perhaps it’s because we’re Yoruba and not Igbo like them, but I can never forget what those people did to us.

Chidi Okereke sat next to me in that YNaija situation room while we discussed politics and laughed together. I think he’s a great guy. Very nice Igbo.

But sometimes when I interact with Igbos, I just remember what those Igbo people did to me and my mother, and I resent the Igbos.

There are so many Yorubas like me out there who feel like that about the Igbos. They won’t let an Igbo live in their house. They won’t do business with an Igbo and they will never let their child marry an Igbo. They don’t like the Igbos.

There are so many Igbos who feel that way about us too.

Let’s face it. The Igbos don’t like us and we don’t like them either.

But no matter what I think about the Igbos based on my experience, I know for sure that the Igbos are good people. Sometimes good people do bad things. Sometimes bad people do good things. That’s what Cheta Nwanze told me some time last year.

When I first met Cheta some years ago, I was a struggling young man who had dropped out of university in revolt against the system. I was a revolutionary. I hated the system and I thought my quitting school would send a very strong message.

It didn’t send any message actually. Instead, it finished me and two years later I was stuck. I couldn’t get a job. I had to crash with my mother because I couldn’t afford an apartment. I was a failed revolutionary.

That was when Cheta took me, put me on jobs and helped me get back on my feet. It was like he just looked at me and said, ‘This young man’s got potential. I will not relent until I make something out of him and help him and get up in life.’

Today I have a decent job, I live in a good place and I’m back in university to pursue a degree again. Now I can think about changing the world again. It’s amazing how one person can change your life in a short time.

There are many Igbos like Cheta out there. I have chosen to judge the Igbos based on the good things these people do.

But the point of my story is that we haven’t been good to each other in this country. Hausas. Igbos. Yorubas. Name it. We have been unfair to each other. Just look at our history.

I imagine what it is like for an Igbo to relate with a Hausa when he remembers that Hausas killed his grandparents and all those things during the civil war.

We need to let people like Boladale speak up when they want to and let’s talk about how we can address our dislike for each other. We will not be able to live up to our potential if we continue to pretend and mask our dislike for each other. The first step to solving this problem is to talk about it.

First up, we’ve got to stop calling ourselves the giant of Africa. Calling ourselves the giant of Africa is like calling someone a standup comedian when he cannot even stand up. We’re not the giant of Africa anymore.

But I believe we have the potential to lead in the world and not just in Africa. I believe Nigeria is the greatest black nation in the world. We’re more populous than the entire east Africa and three times more populous than South Africa. We’ve got the numbers.

But it’s not just about the numbers. It’s about destiny.

Our destiny is to lead the world, but we will never get to that level if we keep fighting each other and treating each other badly. We can challenge even the United States as the leader of the free world if we truly unite and treat each other with love and mutual respect.

I hope my generation will set the ball the rolling. With smart young people like ‘Oddy’ Odekunle, ‘Zebbook’ Ogunyemi, Modupe Odele and Isabella Akinseye who were in that situation room, I believe we can do it. Of course we can.

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Connect with the writer via Twitter @_Adedayo_