For How Long Shall We Continue To Chant; A-RICE O Compatriots?

 

 

Peter Omoniyi Gidado.

 

By Peter Omoniyi Gidado

 

“Arise, O Compatriots” was Nigeria’s national anthem from October 1, 1978, until 2024, when the government of President Bola Ahmed Tinubu replaced it with the older anthem, Nigeria We Hail Thee.

I’m not here to revisit the debate over whether this change was right or wrong—that’s been thoroughly dissected by political and social commentators. By now, most of us have adjusted to reciting the reinstated anthem.

What I want to talk about instead is the first phrase of our now-retired anthem, Arise O Compatriots, and how it echoes today’s reality, albeit with a twist: A-RICE O Compatriots, a reflection of the avalanche of rice palliatives we’ve received in recent months.

Since President Tinubu announced the removal of the fuel subsidy in his inaugural speech on May 29, 2023, rice distribution—often in various modest quantities—has become a primary response to the resulting economic hardship. From the federal to state governments and even religious organizations, “rice palliatives” have become the go-to solution to ease the suffering caused by soaring fuel prices and the accompanying inflation.

These food distributions, particularly of rice, have become a peculiar form of “empowerment” under the current system. However, this ongoing flow of rice palliatives from the top down reflects a deeper problem: a failure to provide sustainable solutions to the economic crisis plaguing the country.

Rather than addressing the root causes of hunger and poverty, our leaders—seemingly out of ideas—attempt to quell the hunger-driven frustrations of Nigerians with meager, often humiliating, handouts of rice.

Recently, even Ekiti State, known across Nigeria for its intellectual tradition, was not spared from this spectacle. A prominent religious ministry delivered truckloads of rice and other food items for distribution to the poor, as part of their efforts to “cushion” the hardship across the nation.

News of the distribution spread quickly, and on the appointed day, a large crowd gathered at the Ekiti Pavilion along Iyin Road in the state capital, Ado Ekiti. The event, scheduled to start at 10 a.m., was marked by poor planning. Instead of receiving food promptly, the crowd endured hours of praise, worship, and prayers. The frustration mounted, and chaos erupted. The organizers had clearly underestimated the turnout, and the once-orderly gathering descended into a near riot as people scrambled for safety.

This fixation on rice palliatives will not solve our problems. It is disheartening to see that, for many Nigerian leaders, the most tangible response to the myriad of challenges faced by citizens is to distribute truckloads of rice to a population whose only crime is being born in Nigeria. If this continues, we may soon see political officeholders boasting about how much rice they’ve distributed as a core campaign achievement.

What Nigerians truly need is not handouts but an environment that allows us to thrive. Give us the resources, opportunities, and enabling conditions to work for ourselves. We are not asking for much—keep your rice and give us a rise!

How long will Nigerians have to stand under the scorching sun, in degrading queues, just for cups of rice? How long will we continue chanting, A-RICE O, Compatriots?

Rice palliatives are a short-term fix and offer no lasting solution. The mismanagement of these distributions has already led to chaos and, in some cases, stampedes. It’s time for our political and community leaders to shift focus from these temporary fixes to more sustainable solutions—solutions that will not only address today’s hunger but prevent the need for rice palliatives in the future.

How long shall we continue to chant; A-RICE O Compatriots!

 

*Peter Omoniyi Gidado, a youth advocate, writes from Ado Ekiti, Ekiti State. He can be reached via Undisputedpog@gmail.com