Nigeria could teach the west Africa lessons
A trip is often defined by its urprises, so here
are my biggest revelations from six days in
Lagos, Nigeria.
Most of all, I found Lagos to be much safer
than advertised. It is frequently described as
one of the most dangerous cities on earth.
Many people told me I was crazy to go there,
and some Nigerian expats warned me I might
not get out of the airport alive.
The reality is that I walked around freely and
in many parts of town. I didn’t try to go
everywhere or at all hours, and I may have
been lucky. Yet not once did I feel threatened,
and I strongly suspect that a trip to Lagos is
safer than a trip to Rio de Janeiro, a major
tourist destination. (In my first trip to Rio I
was attacked by children with pointed sticks.
In my second I found myself caught in a
gunfight between drug lords). Many Lagos
residents credit the advent of closed-circuit
television cameras for their safety
improvements.
So if you’re an experienced traveler, and
tempted to visit Africa’s largest and arguably
most dynamic city, don’t let safety concerns
be a deal killer. Nigeria’s Horrors and Hopes
The surprises mount. For all the negative
publicity, many parts of Nigeria, especially
Lagos, could and should serve as exemplars
for religious tolerance.
The reports of Boko Haram and terror killings
are well known, and they reflect the
interlocking and sometimes deadly
combinations of regional, religious, sectarian
and ethnic identities in the country, not to
mention extreme inequalities of income and
opportunity. Yet Nigeria has about 180 million
people and is larger than Texas. The violence
is the most frequently reported story in the
West, but the underlying reality is far more
complex and shows positive features.
For instance, the city of Lagos is in many
regards a marvel of religious tolerance. Nigeria
is about 50 percent Muslim and 40 percent
Christian, and the area surrounding Lagos is
also highly mixed in terms of religion. That
may sound like a recipe for trouble, but in
matters of religion Lagos is almost entirely
peaceful. Religious intermarriage is common
and usually not problematic, as is the case in
many (not all) other parts of Nigeria as well.
Many top Nigerian politicians have married
outside their religion, kept two separate
religions in the family and enjoyed continued
political success.
Consider the scale and speed of this
achievement. Lagos, with a population of
about 20 million, is larger than many countries.
It is the most commercially oriented part of
Nigeria, and it grew so large only in the last
few decades, as it attracted entrepreneurially
minded people from many parts of Nigeria and
other African countries. By one estimate, 85
new residents arrive every hour. That may
sound chaotic, but in essence Nigeria has in a
few decades created an almost entirely new,
country-sized city built on the ideals and
practice of religious tolerance. The current
president, Muhammadu Buhari, is a Muslim
who was supported in his election by many
Christian leaders, on the grounds that he
would fight corruption more effectively. His
running mate served as a Pentecostal pastor.
The recent history of Nigeria, Lagos in
particular, is also a counterweight to some
recent Western political trends. Many
Westerners today fear resurgent nationalism,
as illustrated by the U.K.’s vote to leave the
European Union and the election of Donald
Trump.
In Nigeria, nationalism is largely a progressive
force, bringing the country together and
allowing nation-building and infrastructure
development. However imperfect or backward
these processes might be — Nigeria has at
least 270 distinct ethnic groups and 370
languages — in Nigeria one is rooting for
nationalism to succeed. And it’s in Lagos, the
country’s largest and most important window
to the outside world, where the understanding
of the importance of a common and stable
national identity has made such progress.
Many Westerners used to consider much of
Africa backward in this regard, but we
Westerners are learning again that national
cohesion isn’t always so easy. Perhaps the
political spectrum in many Western countries
can realign itself in a direction analogous to
some features of Nigeria, to ally liberalism and
nationalism once again.
are my biggest revelations from six days in
Lagos, Nigeria.
Most of all, I found Lagos to be much safer
than advertised. It is frequently described as
one of the most dangerous cities on earth.
Many people told me I was crazy to go there,
and some Nigerian expats warned me I might
not get out of the airport alive.
The reality is that I walked around freely and
in many parts of town. I didn’t try to go
everywhere or at all hours, and I may have
been lucky. Yet not once did I feel threatened,
and I strongly suspect that a trip to Lagos is
safer than a trip to Rio de Janeiro, a major
tourist destination. (In my first trip to Rio I
was attacked by children with pointed sticks.
In my second I found myself caught in a
gunfight between drug lords). Many Lagos
residents credit the advent of closed-circuit
television cameras for their safety
improvements.
So if you’re an experienced traveler, and
tempted to visit Africa’s largest and arguably
most dynamic city, don’t let safety concerns
be a deal killer. Nigeria’s Horrors and Hopes
The surprises mount. For all the negative
publicity, many parts of Nigeria, especially
Lagos, could and should serve as exemplars
for religious tolerance.
The reports of Boko Haram and terror killings
are well known, and they reflect the
interlocking and sometimes deadly
combinations of regional, religious, sectarian
and ethnic identities in the country, not to
mention extreme inequalities of income and
opportunity. Yet Nigeria has about 180 million
people and is larger than Texas. The violence
is the most frequently reported story in the
West, but the underlying reality is far more
complex and shows positive features.
For instance, the city of Lagos is in many
regards a marvel of religious tolerance. Nigeria
is about 50 percent Muslim and 40 percent
Christian, and the area surrounding Lagos is
also highly mixed in terms of religion. That
may sound like a recipe for trouble, but in
matters of religion Lagos is almost entirely
peaceful. Religious intermarriage is common
and usually not problematic, as is the case in
many (not all) other parts of Nigeria as well.
Many top Nigerian politicians have married
outside their religion, kept two separate
religions in the family and enjoyed continued
political success.
Consider the scale and speed of this
achievement. Lagos, with a population of
about 20 million, is larger than many countries.
It is the most commercially oriented part of
Nigeria, and it grew so large only in the last
few decades, as it attracted entrepreneurially
minded people from many parts of Nigeria and
other African countries. By one estimate, 85
new residents arrive every hour. That may
sound chaotic, but in essence Nigeria has in a
few decades created an almost entirely new,
country-sized city built on the ideals and
practice of religious tolerance. The current
president, Muhammadu Buhari, is a Muslim
who was supported in his election by many
Christian leaders, on the grounds that he
would fight corruption more effectively. His
running mate served as a Pentecostal pastor.
The recent history of Nigeria, Lagos in
particular, is also a counterweight to some
recent Western political trends. Many
Westerners today fear resurgent nationalism,
as illustrated by the U.K.’s vote to leave the
European Union and the election of Donald
Trump.
In Nigeria, nationalism is largely a progressive
force, bringing the country together and
allowing nation-building and infrastructure
development. However imperfect or backward
these processes might be — Nigeria has at
least 270 distinct ethnic groups and 370
languages — in Nigeria one is rooting for
nationalism to succeed. And it’s in Lagos, the
country’s largest and most important window
to the outside world, where the understanding
of the importance of a common and stable
national identity has made such progress.
Many Westerners used to consider much of
Africa backward in this regard, but we
Westerners are learning again that national
cohesion isn’t always so easy. Perhaps the
political spectrum in many Western countries
can realign itself in a direction analogous to
some features of Nigeria, to ally liberalism and
nationalism once again.
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