The village, by M. Night Shyamalan...or not!

From my personal experience, and those of my peers, The annual nomadic cycle of the average Nigerian youth in Diaspora seems to go something like this:

Live in Lagos/Abuja/Port-hacourt
School/work in America/UK/some other country
Come back for holidays (or just have the parents fly over to see you)
*sometimes* Go to the village for Christmas

Everything’s hunky dory! You live in a nice place and can afford to jet set like none other. Great! I’m really happy for you, an imma let you finish, but let me ask you something. How about them village trips?

Yes, the dreaded Christmas village trip. Most of us can’t wait to get it over and done with. We come back to naija from Jand/yankee, enjoy a few days in Lagos, and then start prepping for the villa. We start packing all sanitary materials we can find; dettol, purell, the works. we bring enough mosquito repellant and fleet to kill an elephant, a music player or two or three, a hand-held fan (because god knows you don’t get light in the village. Ever. (If you’re lucky, your family is well off enough to run that generator day in day out.) Then, once we think we’re ready for the trip, we hold our breaths and take the plunge. With any luck, the jaunt to the village will be over and done with ASAP, so we can return to our lives. (heck, with kidnapping at an all time high, most of us don’t even want to go anywhere near those places nowadays).

But therein lies my point. “Returning to our lives”. Several of us have developed a disconnect from the village. There exists a great void, both physical and psychological, separating us from all things ‘village-y’. The village is just another one of those bumps in the road that we can’t wait to pave over once we attain financial and residential freedom (cuz we all know that if we had our own houses in lagos, we’d probably say “abeg burn that village side jor”)

However, the fact that we ‘return’ to the village every now and then signifies that there is something to return to. And I’m not talking about the “link to our grass roots” everyone keeps going on about. Most of us are already way beyond hope in that respect. We’re already knee deep in our Western indulgences; going to the village is just another one of the motions we go through to keep the parents happy while we still live under their roofs. Heck, several of us won’t even pass down our local languages to our children. But that’s a story for another day. I’m speaking of the things that exist on a material plane; things that are our birthright. I’m talking about physical assets: The houses, the plots of land, the farms. Several of our parents still own sizeable estates in our villages. These lands have either been leased out, cultivated on, or may just be sitting dormant, being maintained by select individuals. Some of us don’t even know that our parents possess these things. The fact remains, though, that if they exist, they belong to you and yours. Now I’m not saying you should go prodigal son on your daddy and demand that he disclose all his assets. I just find it interesting to ponder what will happen to all those assets once they are passed on to our generation.

Lets face facts; you’re parents wont be here forever. And eventually, their assets will change hands. If our parents made decisions based on our behavioral patterns and lifestyle trends, they’d probably order their village based assets to be liquidated and channel the fiscal proceeds to our private coffers, so we can continue enjoying the “better life” in developed cities. After all, most of our friends reside in the cities, and we probably all plan to work in the cities. What does the village have to offer us anyway? We have no want for their titles or their people; let’s not lie to ourselves here. Who do you “hang out” with in the village? How often do you talk to your distant cousins, uncles and aunts? This is no time for that self-righteous nonsense. (The pretentious, holier than thou “I love my country and all in it” BullSh** is a story for another day too). Most of them don’t even know your name. If necessary, you’ll send some financial backup to some distant cousin, as long as he has the decency to visit you in your Lagosian abode first, of course. For the most part, a lot of us would rather avoid village activities like the plague.

But our parents probably have a bit more faith in us, and would probably want us to keep the village house as a momento/legacy, at the very least. They would like us to visit the village every now and then, and to foster relationships with the people. So, if we wish to respect their wishes, we’ll probably have to keep the house, and the plots of land, and do more village trips. But therein lies the pivotal question: what the devil are we going to do with those rural monstrosities? (I don’t even wanna get started on the “fostering relationships with the people” part. My brain would melt.)

You may ask yourself, “what do my parents do with those assets?” well, I’m sure they have certain family members in place taking care of these things, and they do visit those sites a lot more frequently than our generation does. All those random weekends away? Yeah, they stop by the village and give the place a gander before they return. Our parents are diligent like that.

But the people our parents have caring for the place are mostly in their generation, and you probably only meet them once or twice when you eventually venture on one of the dreaded Christmas village jaunts (if that), Even then, you may never exchange more than a few pleasantries with them. Like your parents, these people wont be here forever, and even if they lasted that long, by the time you’re old enough to need to take full control of your assets, they’ll be way too old to give a dam about managing your ish. There is the off-chance of your parents retiring to the village, but with the staggering rate at which the elderly are being abducted from the villages, I don’t know how viable that option is. The most that could happen is that they spend a bit more time in the village house, but they’ll probably still reside primarily in the urban regions of the nation. So good luck with getting someone village based to keep the place tidy for you and make sure you don’t come over one day to find some randoms residing in what you once thought was your place. Heck, even our parents aren’t omniscient. I’ve heard of a guy who’s farm got turned into a Weed factory while he was away for just one week. If it happened to someone who inspected the joint on a near weekly basis, imagine what could happen to your estate when you only visit it

But something comes even before finding randoms in your village estate: getting to your village. Now who can drive to their village here, or can at least direct a driver? Show of hands, anyone? I’m guessing not that many. Come Christmas, we just hop in the car and pass out, hoping to wake up in the evening all safe and sound at our villagey abode. A few of us are fortunate enough to have drivers from our indigenous lands. Methinks it’ll be a good idea to have one in the future. (Hmm, staff acquisition/management in the future. That’s a different blog entry entirely. Back to the village.)


Considering how limited our access to the villages are, its small wonder that we don’t really consider these things. And I don’t blame us. A lot of us have been brought up
as Lagosians/Abujans/Porthacourtians. From there, we were shipped off to some foreign land for education. And now we’re in our mid-tweties and getting older every day. Village adaptation is like acquiring technical skills. If you don’t use them, you forget them. And that’s what’s happening to a lot of us right now.


Knowing our parents, they’ve probably set up checks and balances to ensure that these possessions make it into our hands safely. But the greater question is, what do we do with these things once we have them? I’m not here to tell you how to live your life, or how to manage your looming village crisis. I’m still confused as hell myself. Heck, for all I know this little quandary may apply to just me. Everyone else may have themselves sorted out already. That would be awkward, and kinda upsetting. But hey, that would mean that I’d have people to ask for advice. So, if you’re a Diokpa/first son like myself and have already sorted out your future “villagery”, feel free to share some pearls of wisdom. I’ll even pay you! (someone should even start a village asset management company. They could make a killing off our generation) But for now, I’m going back to planning my summer vacation in some other country… Galactus approaches after all.



Yes, I know some of us are true blooded lagosians and don’t have the village assets problem, seeing as Lagos is your true home. To that I say “Oh gooood for you” http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qrvMTv_r8sA