In recent weeks, the world was reminded of a timeless truth: no government, no matter how powerful, can permanently suppress the will of the people. What began as a government crackdown on social media in a foreign country quickly spiraled into a national revolt that shook the foundations of power.
The government, believing it could silence dissent, ordered a shutdown of Facebook, X (formerly Twitter), and TikTok. This was meant to stifle communication and prevent the coordination of protests. But instead of calming the people, the blackout had the opposite effect. Citizens poured into the streets in defiance, demanding accountability for corruption, poverty, and skyrocketing costs of living.
Security forces responded with brutality. Nineteen protesters were killed and more than 500 were injured in a matter of days. Yet rather than breaking the people’s spirit, these killings only fueled their anger. Faced with growing unrest, the government hurriedly restored social media access, but by then, the damage had already been done.
The people had reached their breaking point. “Lai lai,” they declared—never again. Protesters stormed the residence of the Prime Minister and set it ablaze. The Parliament building was also torched. Government officials fled in panic, some abandoning the country entirely. The uprising sent a clear message: when citizens unite and declare enough is enough, even the mightiest governments crumble.
This scenario carries uncomfortable parallels for Nigeria. The so-called “Giant of Africa” is teetering under the weight of economic hardship, political corruption, and social unrest. According to the National Bureau of Statistics (NBS), 133 million Nigerians—63% of the population—live in multidimensional poverty. Inflation has soared above 30% in 2024, food prices have doubled in many states, and unemployment among young people has climbed past 53%.
Yet, despite this grim reality, Nigeria’s political class continues to insulate itself with privilege. Billions are allocated for luxury convoys, overseas medical trips, and inflated budgets, while millions of ordinary citizens are left to beg, hustle, or perish.
History has shown us the pattern. From the Arab Spring in North Africa to the anti-corruption protests in Eastern Europe, revolutions rarely begin in parliaments or presidential palaces—they erupt in the streets, when hunger and frustration collide with injustice. Nigeria has already witnessed a glimpse of this in the #EndSARS protests of 2020, where young people stood up against police brutality. The peaceful demonstrations were met with violence, culminating in the Lekki Toll Gate massacre, where Amnesty International reported that security forces fired live rounds at unarmed protesters.
The lesson is clear: suppressing dissent does not eliminate it—it incubates it. The Nigerian government, like others before it, should recognize that public patience is not infinite. A nation cannot continue to watch its leaders grow richer while its people sink deeper into poverty without eventually reaching a breaking point.
When citizens say enough is enough, neither soldiers nor censorship can hold them back. And in a country of over 200 million, the consequences of such an uprising would be seismic.
The Nigerian state still has time to avert such a crisis—by embracing transparency, tackling corruption, creating real economic opportunities, and respecting the rights of its citizens. But if the ruling class continues down its current path, history may yet repeat itself on Nigerian soil.
Because when the people finally rise, no power on earth can stop them.
