This October 1, Nigeria turns 65. Across the country, the rituals of Independence Day will unfold with familiar precision: flags raised high, parades across stadiums, and political speeches heavy with promises. Children will march in colourful uniforms, choirs will sing the national anthem, and television screens will beam the green-and-white colours into millions of homes. On the surface, the day will look like a celebration of freedom. But as the music fades and the crowds disperse, a sobering question lingers: after 65 years, what exactly are we celebrating?
Yes, we mark more than six decades of independence from colonial rule. But are we truly free in the deepest sense of the word? Free from corruption, from mediocrity, from moral decay? Or have we only swapped colonial masters for local rulers, changing the faces at the top while sinking deeper into a mindset that rewards shortcuts, silences integrity, and glorifies wrongdoing?
The truth is painful: our society is sick, morally sick. In today’s Nigeria, it is no longer the diligent worker, the devoted teacher, or the selfless volunteer who commands respect. Instead, admiration flows to the loud fraudster, the dishonest influencer, the flashy show-off whose wealth, no matter how ill-gotten, earns applause. We have rebranded deceit as smartness and labelled honesty as foolishness. What kind of nation ridicules diligence and bows before deception?
This sickness shows up everywhere. In offices, some workers celebrate shortcuts rather than competence. On the streets, people mock those who queue patiently, while praising those who know somebody and bypass the rules. In our homes, children are taught that success matters more than process, that wealth matters more than hard work. Slowly, quietly, values are being eroded, and with them, the soul of the nation.
It is easy to lay the blame at the feet of the government, and indeed, successive administrations have failed Nigerians. Every election comes with promises of reform, yet those promises rarely translate into reality. Policies are announced with fanfare, but they are often half-baked, underfunded, or abandoned once the cameras are off. Leaders come and go, but accountability remains absent.
Too often, public office is treated not as a call to serve but as a ticket to self-enrichment. Leaders govern without conscience, and reforms rarely outlive press conferences. The gap between law and action widens daily, leaving ordinary citizens to despair. Independence was meant to mean self-determination, but 65 years later, too many Nigerians feel powerless in their own country.
Yet to focus only on the government would be to miss the bigger picture. The rot has seeped into society itself.
Parents, in their bid to give children a better life, sometimes raise them without discipline but with a heavy sense of entitlement. Schools, meant to shape character as much as intellect, often tolerate or even encourage malpractice. Examination halls have become theatres of organized cheating, while respect for teachers is eroded by both students and administrators.
Religious institutions, once seen as moral guardians, are not spared. Too often, they have shifted from being sanctuaries of truth to platforms for wealth display. Pulpits thunder with testimonies of breakthroughs, while little attention is paid to the integrity of the means by which those breakthroughs were achieved. Elders, who traditionally served as moral compasses, are sometimes the first to justify dishonesty in the name of survival. In such a climate, what moral lessons can the younger generation learn?
The bitter truth is this: Nigeria’s moral collapse is not only about bad leaders; it is about the choices of millions of ordinary people. Corruption survives not just in government houses, but in schools, markets, homes, and even places of worship.
This Independence Day, the conversation must shift. We can no longer afford to celebrate symbols while ignoring substance. Before we raise flags or light candles, each of us must pause to reflect:
1. Is my mindset progressive or regressive?
2. Do I stand for truth, or have I compromised for convenience?
3. Am I part of the solution, or just another echo of the problem?
Real change begins with honest answers to these questions. True independence is not simply the absence of foreign rule. It is the presence of integrity, the courage to stand for what is right, and the determination to build a society where honesty is rewarded, not ridiculed.
Imagine a Nigeria where schools reward diligence and integrity, where exams are passed by study rather than shortcuts. Imagine leaders who govern with conscience, putting service above greed, and citizens who demand accountability not only from politicians but from themselves. Imagine communities where honesty is a badge of honour and deceit a source of shame.
This vision is not utopian. It is within our reach, but it requires a collective decision to rebuild. It requires parents who model discipline, teachers who insist on integrity, religious leaders who preach conscience, and youths who embrace diligence over deception. Above all, it requires citizens who refuse to excuse corruption, no matter how small or convenient.
True freedom cannot be measured by parades or fireworks. It must show in how we think, how we lead, how we relate to one another, and how we raise the next generation. Freedom is not a day on the calendar; it is a daily practice of integrity and accountability.
As we mark Nigeria’s 65th independence, let us resist the temptation to reduce freedom to speeches and ceremonies. Let this year be remembered as the moment when Nigerians, both leaders and followers, resolved to pursue moral rebirth.
Because a nation that celebrates independence without integrity is only free in name, but bound in every other way.
Let October 1, 2025, be more than another anniversary. Let it be the year when Nigeria’s rebirth begins, not through government decrees alone, but through individual choices. For God (to those who believe), for our country, and for our conscience, let this be the year we choose honesty over hype, process over pretense, and sacrifice over selfishness.
Only then can we say, with a clear conscience, that we are truly free.
Happy Independence Day, Nigeria.
The views expressed in this article are those of the author and not necessarily of the organisation TheRadar.
June 12: A Reflection on Democracy and Individual Freedom in Nigeria
In an earlier piece, TheRadar reported the opinion of an analyst regarding June 12 celebrations in Nigeria. The analyst, Daniel Abdul, called for a reflection on what freedom truly meant in our context, not just the freedom to vote, but the freedom to live, speak, create, and dream without fear.
"June 12 speaks to the power of expression, the quiet strength in a writer’s pen, the courage in a citizen’s voice, the dignity of a people who continue to demand more from their democracy. Real democracy goes beyond ballots. It lives in how much space people have to exist freely and meaningfully, without their rights hanging on the mood of power."
