The Concourse
By Soney Antai, s>erial awards-winning columnist
Patriotism is earned, not. extorted
It would be a sobering exercise to conduct an honest, two-question study on the Nigerian psyche. Ask the masses: “Do you know what patriotism is?” And then ask, “Are you sincerely proud to be a Nigerian?”
If conducted today, the results would be lopsided. The “Yeses” to the first and the “Nos” to the second would form an overwhelming majority. Most Nigerians understand the textbook definition of patriotism; they simply don’t feel it. This includes the politicians and the public servants. From the opulent mansions of the elite to the zinc shacks of the poor, love for the fatherland has evaporated—though for vastly different reasons.
Patriotism is a transaction of loyalty: one works for the collective good, often sacrificing personal comfort to keep the nation virile and united. But in Nigeria, the masses see their unpatriotism as a survival tactic in a hostile environment. Meanwhile, the elite manifest their betrayal through the systematic abuse of office, blatant malfeasance, and a parasitic disregard for the rule of law. Contrast this with the recent ordeal of a US colonel during the now-paused conflict in Iran.
When his F-15 was downed by an Iranian missile, he didn’t just become a “casualty of war”—he became the singular focus of the American state. While his colleague was rescued quickly, the colonel was left wounded and alone in a ravine with a $60,000 Iranian bounty on his head.
Did his government offer “thoughts and prayers”? No. President Donald Trump issued a “leave-no-man-behind” order that mobilised a force larger than some national militaries. The scale of the investment was staggering: 155 aircraft were committed to the rescue of this one man. This included 68 fighter jets to hold the skies, 48 aerial tankers to keep them fueled, four heavy bombers, and 13 dedicated rescue aircraft. It was a determined operation that was intentioned for success, and succeed, it did!
As the Iranian Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC) mobilised its civilian and military might to hunt him down, the Americans responded with an overwhelming symphony of force. They geolocated him in a ravine, secured the perimeter under heavy fire, and even blew their own stranded aircraft to smithereens rather than let the technology fall into enemy hands.
That soldier doesn’t need a sermon on patriotism; his family, friends and comrades-in-arms, don’t need that either. His country earned his devotion by proving his life was worth the full might of the Pentagon.
Now, look at Nigeria. If that airman were ours, the government would have spent the first 48 hours distancing itself from “culpability”. While facing nothing more than ragtag, heroin-fueled terrorists, our “brass hats” would shamelessly sermonise about how these vile mass killers are “misguided children” who deserve rehabilitation and pampering.
It is a sickening irony. We watch as our finest and brightest are hunted like prey. Within just the last few months, we have seen the tragic losses of Brigadier General Musa Uba and, only days ago, Brigadier General Oseni Omoh Braimah, killed in a coordinated assault in Benisheikh. These were not just names on a payroll; they were high-ranking symbols of our national defence. And what is the state’s response to the murder of its Generals?
In America, the death of a General in the hands of terrorists would trigger a tectonic shift in the war; in Nigeria, it triggers a press release. We are served a pathetic script of “condolences,” “platitudes,” and “propaganda,” while the killers continue to post videos of their exploits, mocking the very sovereignty our fallen heroes died to protect. It breaks my heart to live under this setting, where our lives don’t matter, but those of our murderers do.
How can a state drool over the “repentance” of monsters who have slaughtered its military leadership, while the victims and their families are left with nothing but “renewed hope” slogans? The President promised security to the people of Plateau State; hours later, the bloodletting resumed. A week later, the killers struck again, emboldened by a state that seems more interested in 2027 than in the burials of 2026.
Our politicians are experts at “capturing the state” for self-preservation, but they are ghosts when the people they ‘lead’ are being led to the slaughter.
Patriotism cannot be preached into a vacuum. It is the natural by-product of a state that values the lives of its citizens. Until then, the God of Justice will demand the blood of every innocent Nigerian—and every fallen General, soldier, civilian, children and women —from the hands of the killers and the cowardice of their enablers.
