In primary school I read Anezi Okoro’s famous novel, “One Week, One Trouble.” It tells the story of Wilson Tagbo, a young lad who, from his first week in secondary school, was always getting into one escapade or another, week in, week out.
When it comes to British politics, it seems Kemi Badenoch can’t help but channel the spirit of Wilson Tagbo. She made headlines once again, this time because of her continuing commentary about Nigeria and Nigerians.
Hailed by many as a champion of the ‘culture wars,’ her words were as provocative as they were careless. And yet, while there is truth in her comments, the problem lies in how she has said them, who she has said them about, and, crucially, the potential unintended consequences of her words.
First, let us state one immutable fact: Kemi is right when she criticises the Nigerian state. No one in their right mind can deny that successive Nigerian governments have failed its citizens. Nigeria’s political elite rule with a fiefdom mindset, and one only needs to have a conversation with any random Nigerian to establish this. The stories are endless—people disappearing without a trace, children unlawfully arrested for speaking against government officials, and, the most notorious in recent times, the massacre of peaceful #EndSARS protesters on October 20, 2020. To speak of the Nigerian government without addressing its autocratic tendencies will not only be dishonest, but it will also be crazy.
However, where I disagree with Kemi Badenoch is in her sweeping generalisation of Nigerians. By saying in a recent interview that Nigeria is “a very poor country, so people do all sorts of things,” she does an enormous disservice to the very people who are the primary victims of the Nigerian state. She punishes the victims for the crimes of the abuser. When one hears of, or reads about, the success stories coming out of Nigeria—the tech startups, creative powerhouses, and entrepreneurs—it would be pertinent to note that these people, many of them young, survive not because of their government, but in spite of it. These are individuals who work tirelessly to make an honest living. Many of them are in the UK taking on jobs they are mostly overqualified for because they carry the weight of supporting family members both in the UK and back home. In a political environment that is already hostile to immigrants, such words are dangerous. They add fuel to the fire of harmful stereotypes that feed into harmful stereotypes that paint ordinary Nigerians as desperate and roguish, while failing to acknowledge their resilience, ingenuity, and integrity. Something we like to call the “hustling spirit” of Nigerians.
As the Leader of the Opposition, Badenoch is one general election victory away from becoming Prime Minister. Her words carry weight. She must wield them responsibly. She cannot afford to, as we say in Nigeria, ‘talk anyhow.’ But in true Kemi fashion, she has not just made an incendiary remark about a whole country and its citizens; she has also played a dangerous card: ethnicity.
By choosing to draw a dividing line between her Yoruba and Nigerian identities, Kemi has inadvertently stoked Nigeria’s fragile ethnic divisions. One only needs to log into Twitter (I’m still not calling it X) to see the aftermath of her comments. Ethnic tension is something of a constant in Nigeria’s political landscape. However, it was dragged to a new low during the last set of general elections in the country. Kemi, as a senior figure in the UK government during that period, would undoubtedly have been aware of how violence and tribal affiliations were weaponised during those elections. Relationships across ethnic divides are still being eyed with suspicion as a result of that. For her to then wade into this divisive space and appear to take sides is, at best, naive and, at worst, deliberately reckless.
One cannot just wish away the consequences of this ‘anyhow talk’. With over 250 ethnic groups, Nigeria has spent decades trying to hold itself together as one nation. As Obafemi Awolowo once opined, “Nigeria is a mere geographical expression.” To therefore hear a potential UK Prime Minister—someone of Nigerian descent—speak in a way that could legitimise separatist movements sends an interesting message. It signals that Nigerian separatists might have a potential ally in Kemi Badenoch and the Conservative government she hopes to lead. Whether intentional or not, this was a tactical misstep of significant proportions.
Yet, as much as I disagree with Kemi’s ‘anyhow talk,’ I cannot entirely dismiss the message. The politics of ethnic identity has been a major drawback to Nigeria’s progress as a country. I have written previously about the need to rethink Nigeria’s union, advocating for a confederation model that could ease ethnic tensions and offer a more effective form of governance (“https://ndukweonuoha.medium.com/lets-rethink-the-union-c5612b23389c). By acknowledging and addressing Nigeria’s ethnic complexities, we might finally begin to build a system that works for its diverse peoples, rather than exacerbating their divisions.
In recent times, Kemi Badenoch has made it a point to celebrate her British identity while denigrating her Nigerian heritage. Clearly, she wants nothing to do with the country. Yet, I find it intriguing that she has not renounced her Nigerian citizenship. I would encourage her to take that final step. But she will not. You see, Olukemi Olufunto Adegoke Badenoch is a politician who thrives on controversy for its own sake. In her pursuit of shock value and the next ‘culture wars’ headline, she sacrifices nuance, context, and the stability of diplomatic relationships to satisfy a base that, if you check online, doesn’t think she’s all that. This is not smart politics.
The Nigerian government deserves all the critique it gets. The Nigerian people, not so much. By deliberately using a broad brush stroke to tarnish both the Nigerian government and its people, Kemi undermines her kin, who are working tirelessly to build better lives for them and their loved ones, both at home and abroad. Her careless invocation of ethnicity risks emboldening dangerous forces that operate on the fringes of society. For someone who aspires to be the next UK Prime Minister, this approach is not only disappointing—it is irresponsible.
If Kemi Badenoch wants to criticise the Nigerian government and its feudal state institutions, not many Nigerians will stand in her way. But please leave the rest of us out of it. We have seen enough ‘shege’ at the hands of these people. We don’t need her to add to the trauma that everyday hard-working, resilient, and entrepreneurial Nigerians have to deal with because of our green passport. Kemi will do well to stop talking anyhow.
