By Fr Amobi Chukwuma
A long used primary school English textbook titled, ”Day by Day”, for Primary One states indelibly, “Obi is a boy”. I am still in possession of a copy of the textbook over fifty years I left primary school. Whenever I open the page in question, Obi remains a boy. Biologically and philosophically, I asked myself these pertinent questions: How long shall Obi remain a boy? Is he not growing? Does this idiomatic statement: “The boy is the father of the man”, not apply to him? Even if Obi is retarded in growth after many years, he cannot remain a boy.
Is he suffering from perpetual dwarfism? The Nollywood actors, Aki and Pawpaw, always play the role of small boys. Physically they have boyish features, but internally and biologically they have metamorphosed into adulthood.
Personally I was retarded in growth when I was a small boy. In those days of my dwarfism, people made mockery of me because my age mates were taller and more mature than I. Even my immediate junior sister was thrice my height. I was always ashamed of standing close to her.
My prayer point in those days of curiosity was, “God, elongate me”. Surprisingly God elongated me through torture. It happened when I was living with my paternal grandmother at Enugwu Village Aguluezechukwu in Aguata Local Government of Nigeria. On that fateful day, I returned from secondary school and took my lunch. Since my unlettered grandmother considered siesta as laziness, I hurried off and climbed a big pear tree at the centre of our compound.
Before I could reach the topmost, my hand slipped off a tiny branch. I screamed and lost consciousness. I fell headlong between two systematically packed six inches blocks. My head and neck nearly severed. I suffered deep internal and external bruises. My grandmother raised tearful alarm. Sympathizers gathered. I was presumed dead and was rushed to the nearby Oko Community Hospital for treatment or confirmation of death.
By God’s grace I was still clinically alive. Thus, I was admitted in the intensive unit for about one month. My wounds were treated, but my sense of consciousness refused to return after all series of medications. Consequently I was referred to a teaching hospital in Jos, my birthplace, for further treatment.
During the long journey to Jos, my body was stationed in the vehicle while my spirit was hovering in the land of the spirits. I spent two months in the hospital at Jos with loss of consciousness still intact. During the period, I was fed with nutritious foods and drinks. I ate eggs, vegetables, fruits, supplements and vitamins.
When I was discharged, the doctor asked my parents to look after me in our house in Jos and to be coming for check-up when due. In the house they continued to feed me with nutrients and vitamins. I grew tall by force.
On one miraculous day, I regained consciousness. It was only then that I realized that I still existed in this physical world. I gave praises to God. I looked at myself before a standing mirror and saw the extraordinary growth in height and weight. I was as short as a small bottle of stout before the tree accident. Now I am as tall as a moderate palm tree. Obi was a boy. Now, he is a man.
Today, I am in my early sixties. I have grown from childhood to boyhood. From boyhood I grew into adulthood. Nothing is static. The other day I was driving quietly along a busy road. One rascally driver overtook me from the wrong side and shouted, ‘Okongwu, bupu moto a n’uzo!’ The translation is: ‘Old man, take away that car from the road!’ I cleared by the roadside and glanced at my rear mirror to measure the degree of oldness in my face. Really, I saw that Obi was a boy.
On 5 September 2025 I celebrated my 32nd Priestly Ordination Anniversary. I was ordained at the age of thirty and have added thirty-two years on top. Some years ago, I was a boy. Then I grew into a man because Obi can’t remain a boy. Now I am ranked among the old men. My muscles are stiffening.
Some years ago, my body was as flexible as a turning wheel. Today, some of the knots in my body have fallen away while some have stiffened. My boyish face disappeared many years ago without my consent. Old facial and bodily appearances have taken over. Wrinkles have drawn a map of departure all over my face.
During a certain Sunday evening catechesis in my parish, I called out one small boy from the congregation and he stood before me. I demonstrated that I was like him many years ago. I stated, ‘My boy, I was like you yesterday. Tomorrow you will be like me.’ The small boy looked at me from head to toe and reacted negatively.
He pushed off the hand I was holding him by the shoulder and screamed, ‘God forbid!’ I shoved him aside and told the congregants that old age is a blessing. To remain perpetually a boy is “contra natura” (against nature).
Our country Nigeria was born on 1st October, 1960. She is 65 years old now. She has refused to grow after all colonial, military and civilian maneuvers. She became a Republic in 1963. Hardly did we know that it would become a Republic of corruption. This corruption is walking freely all over the streets of Nigeria.
Thus we have executive corruption, legislative corruption and judicial corruption. It has eaten deep into the fabric of the so-called Giant of Africa and retarded her growth. Instead of growing into the Comity of Nations, she is retrogressing. How can Obi remain a boy at the age of 65? Nigeria, we hail Thee!
This spirit of corruption also has crept into our electoral system, such that free and fair elections have eluded us. How can our democracy grow when the end justifies the means? This is immoral and undemocratic. The only free and fair election we can speak of was the annulled 1993 Presidential Election won by Moshood Abiola. He was frustrated and killed by the forces that be. The 2023 Presidential Election was massively rigged.
The Chairman of the Independent National Electoral Commission, prior to the election, swore to transmit the results electronically. Unfortunately, in the course of the election, he was compromised. Consequently, the results were manipulated and collated manually.
Finally the Presidential Result was announced at night when darkness overshadowed justice. The highest bidder was sworn into office. The Judiciary sealed the manipulated game. Now every Dick and Harry is languishing from the harsh adverse effects.
Because of democratic retardation, insecurity of lives has become the greatest challenge in Nigeria today. Innocent citizens going about their daily businesses are massively kidnapped and killed. Many families and villages have so far been wiped out.
The administration of the late President Muhammadu Buhari promised to end insecurity in six months. After eight years in office, it worsened. His successor and incumbent President, Bola Ahmed Tinubu, promised to continue where his predecessor stopped. Does it mean that he is also bound to fail, security and economic wise?
He took over on his Renewed Hope Agenda. Is it renewed insecurity and renewed hardship? I laughed when the President recently and publicly asserted that our economy had stabilized. The taste of the pudding is in the eating.
Until the masses see enough food on their tables, the assertion remains a mirage. Governance has been sacrificed at the altar of pursuing the 2027 Presidential Ambition. If the first child refuses to walk, can the second run? The change of National Anthem cannot guarantee our growth as a Nation.
The problem why Obi is still a boy in Nigeria at the age of 65 is hinged on bad leadership. Nigeria needs these essentials nutrients and vitamins to grow: the fear of God, self-sacrifice, love, justice, truthfulness, transparency, accountability, equity, credible elections, good governance, adequate security, etc. When we get it right, our country will automatically grow and be counted among the Comity of Nations. Then, we can proudly assert that Obi was a boy as far as Nigeria is concerned.
