Quite often, I have found myself
compelled to defend the fundamentals of human rights to supposedly
educated people in Nigeria. A clear demonstration of the declining
quality of our “educated” middle class is the generic ignorance of
foundational social concepts, particularly on the rule of law and the
sanctity of human rights. Nigeria—in 2016—is increasingly becoming a
point of space and time where we revile knowledge and mock discourse.
This seems an appropriate reflection of
the plunging humanism of the Euro-American world. The idea and ideal of a
universal humanity is collapsing under international tribalism. The
western world is retrogressing from post-war advances to
its previous
state of territorial squabbling, evoked as nationalism. It seems that if
Nigerians want to discard humanism for some other interest, there is
ample global precedent.
Yet, from another perspective, the
Nigerian masses have rarely had the opportunity to understand, or enjoy,
the dignity of being treated as human. Our governments have always
obfuscated our entitlement to individual rights. Our history is a dreary
narrative of travails: from colonial repression to civilian oppression
to military brutality. Because Nigeria does not protect Nigerians
equally, individuals have evolved group affiliations to protect
themselves. Today, most Nigerians ascribe humanity only to those of
“their” own affiliations. Everyone else is sub-human—and, therefore,
deserving of the worst afflictions from nature, society and law. We have
come to accept the unjust detention, assault, displacement, or even
murder of “others” by state agents. Others, of course, are: those of a
different religion, political party, ethnicity, or social class.
But, without the recognition of human
rights there can be no social equality. Without social equality there
can be no social justice. And without social justice, corruption and
patronage will continue to flourish. A society cannot fully exploit the
potential of its citizens until all members of that society are allowed
their full expression as humans.
A challenge is that we conflate human
rights with “western” culture. Our legislators are often quick to
justify repression in the guise of being “African.” Let us ignore the
fact that Africa is diverse and has varied across space and time.
History shows that the West has rarely valued humanity or individual
rights. Western history is a compilation of savagery in epic
proportions: from genocide to religious wars to wholesale slavery. Even
now—despite seeming mental advancement over the decades—those who think
their skin colour confers inherent supremacy are reclaiming the United
States.
Human rights protect the weak. The rule
of law developed as a concept to prevent the rise of oppressive
individuals. In a world where the “white man” dominates society and
economy, human rights protect the black person. Yet, we are mistreated
abroad because we have not ascribed dignity to ourselves at home. But we
will not achieve dignity by vague proclamations of our greatness as a
country. We will achieve national dignity by placing a non-negotiable
value on the life of every citizen. Unfortunately, in Nigeria even the
right to life has to be earned. Those who seem to enjoy human rights are
those who have purchased them through political or economic currency.
Naturally, this has stimulated the general, if ironic, perception that
human rights are a tool used by the powerful to escape justice.
Concurrently, human rights advocates are
often accused of defending only the rich and powerful. This is unfair. A
lot of Nigerians—lawyers and social workers—work for little or no pay
in the cause of the poor and the powerless. For example, I work with The
Initiative for Equal Rights (TIERs) where other young people strive to
help other Nigerians from unfair discrimination. Or, consider the good
people at Justice and Empowerment Initiatives (JEI) who are constantly
in court to help poor communities from oppression by the Lagos State
Government. These are just a couple of examples from my own working
life. All over Nigeria, thousands of workers are dedicated to the rights
of the underprivileged. But it is rare for these cases and stories to
get into the media. They are not as newsworthy or sensational as a
Dasuki trial. We should not, however, confuse our ignorance of these
activities for their absence.
It is simply unfortunate that, in a
country where people ought to fight for the protection of rights, those
who should be more enlightened have aided in propelling resentment
against human rights advocates. Yet, the goal of advocacy is not to
strip the powerful of their rights. It is to ensure that rights are
equally recognised for everyone. This distinction is important.
Revolution may focus on attacking the powerful, but advocacy is about
empowering the weak. We will dismantle privilege by enforcing the rights
of the underprivileged. If we focus, simply, on denying justifiable
rights to the privileged, we will only end up creating a new set of
equally powerful people.
It is unfortunate that we, the people,
are passive while charities and international organisations try to
cajole the government into respecting Nigerian lives. We seem to have
fully traded our rights to life, liberty and the dignity of our persons
for solidarity with our partisan affiliations. Today, we not only accept
oppression as a natural state—for others—but we also kick against those
who declare otherwise. I have watched, horrified, as some Nigerians
align with the government to attack organisations that try to hold the
government to basic standards of behaviour. Maybe I am idealistic. Maybe
this dysfunction is a fundamental nature of our Nigerian state. Maybe
not. What is clear to me is that—from Fela’s music to Gani Fawehinmi’s
advocacy—truth has often been offered to us for free, but it is the lies
that find our ready cash.
Credit: http://punchng.com
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