WE ARE FOOD: A Reflection on Systemic Failures and the Plight of Nigerian Youth
- Fredrick Antone
- Mar 28
- 4 min read
Good morning, good afternoon, good evening. Welcome back to the GoodLiving Podcast. I’m your host, Koke, and today’s episode is brought to you by Aura Nigeria.
Something has been weighing heavily on my mind lately. In the town where I live, the governor recently imposed a curfew banning all outings and events beyond 10 p.m. As a result, prostitutes who rely on nighttime work can no longer make a living. Bars and clubs are empty because the police are cracking down hard, arresting anyone found outside after curfew.
On top of that, there’s a so-called “war on cybercrime” happening. But let’s call it what it really is: a license for law enforcement to profile and harass young people. They’re arresting boys left and right, often for no reason other than being young and male. And while I understand the need to address cybercrime, the way this is being handled is backward and oppressive.
This isn’t just about the state government, though. It’s a systemic issue that starts at the federal level. Let me give you an example.
The Broken System: A Personal Story
A few months ago, my father was hospitalized for several weeks. It was during this time that I saw firsthand just how broken our systems are. In 2024, there’s no modernization or technology to make life easier for citizens. Over 200 million Nigerians are poor, and many rely on government hospitals for healthcare. Yet, even the simplest tasks are unnecessarily complicated.
For instance, to make a payment at the federal medical center, you have to bring cash. No POS machines, no card payments—just cold, hard cash. This is 2024! Everyone knows it would be easier to have a system where people could transfer money electronically, but no. Instead, patients and their families have to trek to distant POS operators to withdraw large sums of money, risking their safety in the process.
And it doesn’t stop there. If your doctor orders a lab test, you have to physically carry your file from one department to another. In a modern hospital, this could all be done digitally. But here, we’re stuck in the 1980s, manually shuffling papers while lives hang in the balance.
The Education System: A Cycle of Suffering
The same inefficiency plagues our education system. If you’ve attended a Nigerian public university, you know the drill: endless queues, manual clearance processes, and mountains of paperwork. Why? Because everything is done manually.
I remember a particularly frustrating experience in my final year. A lecturer lost all our assignments and made us redo them from scratch. This was in a school where many students could barely afford to eat, let alone print multiple copies of assignments. The arrogance and lack of empathy were staggering.
This isn’t just about one lecturer, though. It’s a symptom of a larger problem: a system designed to oppress and frustrate young people. From the moment we enter university, we’re subjected to unnecessary hardships, as if the government is intentionally torturing us.
The War on Cybercrime: Profiling and Extortion
Now, back to the so-called war on cybercrime. The police are targeting young boys, treating them like prey. If you’re a young man in Nigeria, you know the feeling: the moment you see a police officer, you feel like food. They see you as a source of extortion, not as a citizen deserving of respect.
Just the other day, some friends of mine were standing outside our compound gate when a police van pulled up. The officers jumped out, ready to arrest them for no reason. Thankfully, my friends managed to lock the gate and escape, but not everyone is so lucky.
The truth is, this isn’t about fighting cybercrime. It’s about power and extortion. The police are hungry, and the government is giving them free rein to harass and exploit young people. Until this issue affects someone in power—their son, brother, or nephew—nothing will change.
The Curfew and Its Consequences
The 10 p.m. curfew is another example of poorly thought-out policy. While it’s intended to curb crime, it’s also depriving people of their livelihoods. Prostitutes, for instance, can no longer work at night, leaving them without income. And for many men, especially those without partners, this means no outlet for their sexual needs. (Strange take I agree, but them be human being too) The curfew isn’t solving any problems; it’s just creating new ones.
Solutions: Investing in the Youth
So, what’s the way forward? First, we need to invest in our youth. In countries like the UK, there are youth centers where young people can play sports, learn new skills, and socialize in a safe environment. These centers provide an alternative to crime and keep young people engaged.
Here in Nigeria, we have nothing like that. Instead, we have a system that oppresses and frustrates young people at every turn. If we want to reduce cybercrime and other social vices, we need to provide opportunities for young people to thrive.
Second, we need to modernize our systems. There’s no reason why hospitals and universities should still be operating like it’s 1980. With a little investment in technology, we could streamline processes, reduce corruption, and make life easier for everyone.
Final Thoughts
The issues we’re facing are systemic, but they’re not insurmountable. If we want to build a better Nigeria, we need to start by treating our young people with respect and dignity. We need to invest in their futures and create systems that work for everyone, not just the privileged few.
Thank you for listening to the Good Living Podcast. Remember to patronize Aura Nigeria for your corporate and office wears. Until next time, stay safe, stay hopeful, and keep fighting for a better tomorrow.
Ciao.
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