THE DAY WE CELEBRATE HOPE YET STILL SEARCH FOR IT…

Is This What Democracy Feels Like?

Sigh.

Happy Democracy Day, they say.

And I pause for a moment.

Not because I do not want to celebrate, but because I am trying to understand what exactly we are celebrating.

Maybe democracy is freedom.

But why do so many people still feel trapped?

Maybe democracy is having a voice.

But why do so many voices shake before they speak?

Maybe democracy is hope.

Then why does hope feel like something we keep borrowing from tomorrow?

I look around and see people surviving more than they are living.

The student who studies with tired eyes and an uncertain future.

The father who leaves home before sunrise and returns after sunset, yet still worries about the next meal.

The mother who has mastered the art of pretending everything is okay so her children can sleep peacefully.

The young graduate carrying certificates in one hand and disappointment in the other.

The ordinary Nigerian.

Always enduring.

Always adjusting.

Always hoping.

Sometimes I wonder if resilience has become a burden we praise because we have no choice.

We call people strong because we do not know how to ease their pain.

We call people resilient because we have become accustomed to watching them suffer.

And somehow, despite everything, they still wake up.

Still try.

Still dream.

Still pray.

Ẹni tí ó bá rí ìrètí, ó ti rí ìyè.

The one who still has hope still has life.

Yet hope should not be the only thing people possess.

A nation cannot keep feeding its people with promises and expect them not to hunger for change.

A country cannot keep asking for patience from people who have spent years waiting.

Today is Democracy Day.

But beyond the flags, beyond the greetings, beyond the speeches, I think about the people.

The people whose voices have become whispers.

The people whose dreams have become prayers.

The people who smile in public and worry in private.

The people who have learned to laugh through pain because tears have become too familiar.

Maybe democracy is not the day we celebrate.

Maybe democracy is the day a child can dream without fear.

The day hard work finally feels worth it.

The day safety is normal.

The day survival stops being an achievement.

Until then, we will continue to ask difficult questions.

Not because we hate our country.

But because we love it enough to believe it can be better.

Happy Democracy Day, Nigeria.

May our reality one day become as beautiful as the promises we were given.