Image credit: AI-generated image created with OpenAI (ChatGPT), 2026.
There was a time in Nigeria when Nnamdi and his friends would take their mats outside and lie in the open air. Their backs to the ground. Their faces turned towards the sky.
A time when they would count the numerous stars and adore the lovely moon which appeared every night, smiling hopefully at them.
A time when Nnamdi’s grandparents were happy to tell him and his siblings their survival story; how they believed in the progress of the country; how they believed that things would get better one day.
There was a time when Nnamdi could travel by bus from Aba to Lagos without any hitch. Infact he preferred traveling by night because it was just a ‘one-way’ route, empty roads with fewer or no checkpoints.
A time when kerosene was as important as petrol. He would use Lanterns as a means of alternative lightening when the power holding companies wouldn’t supply electricity.
A time when 5 Naira could buy him a sachet water which he always called ‘pure water’ and when 10 Naira could get him a small ball of ‘Akara’.
There was a time in Nigeria when Nnamdi was so happy to go to school and learn. He was always joyful inside the classroom because he was an extrovert who loved to socialize, crack jokes, see new faces and connect with as many people as possible. That was the definition of Nnamdi’s school days. Friends! Cliques! Vibes! Fun!
There was a time in Nigeria when Nnamdi and his close friend Obi, always anticipated the FIFA World Cup. Because they could do anything for Football and were so eager to see Team Nigeria on the big stage. How lovely it was to see 9ja ballers dribbling and dribbling, making feint passes, making football to look like art; pure art.
There was a time in Nnamdi’s life when the importance of going to school couldn’t be overemphasized. Everyone was struggling to get a degree because the next step was securing a white collar jobs which was almost guaranteed for anyone who had just graduated from the university. So Nnamdi’s mother wouldn’t let him rest. Everyday she would keep singing it as a song in his ears. “If you don’t take your studies seriously and become somebody in life, I will disown you, and don’t ever come looking for me”
There was a time when (NYSC) Corpers from Abia state could travel freely to Zamfara state to serve their fatherland. They would come back a year later and tell Nnamdi and his family how beautiful and safe the North was.
There was a time when Nnamdi and every of his class mate wanted to be on ‘X’ because it was fun and exciting.
There was a time when Nnamdi’s secondary school was always participating in one competition or the other, of which Nnamdi was never absent in any. Chess, Debate, Quiz, Science.
There was a time when Nnamdi loved the slogan ‘police is your friend’ and would never let any of his family members rest because his one and only goal was to become a high ranking police officer.
It was also a time when Nnamdi could brag freely about his aunt’s white collar job. She worked as a cash officer in the bank, and it was a big deal not only to the family but to the society as a whole because being in such position reflected brilliance, hardwork and determination.
There was a time when every first class student in Nnamdi’s school would be given scholarships, millions of naira, or automatic high ranking jobs, for finishing with a first class or even as best graduating student. It was always nothing short of these. And as usual, Nnamdi’s mother wouldn’t let him rest because she wanted him to finish with a first class and win some millions of naira. But she always whispered into his ears that she’ll receive a cut if he ever received the money.
There was a time in Nnamdi’s house, when everyone would sit in the living room at exactly 8pm, waiting to hear the familiar voice of the news caster on Nigerian Television Authority (NTA). Hands folded, legs crossed, backs rested in the sofa, eyes glued to the television screen, ears opened. All eager to know what was currently happening in the country; eager to know how the armed forces had captured some terrorists and kidnappers.
There was a time when Nnamdi’s parents stood for the right not scared of anything. A time when they did not shy away from speaking the truth despite being aware of what they would lose in the process.
There was a time when Nnamdi and other young boys in the neighborhood could participate in PEACEFUL protests and it would be actually be PEACEFUL, with no bloodshed or stray bullets touching any protester.
There was a time when Nnamdi and his friends lived by the slogan ‘Always-be-your-brother’s-keeper’. A time when greed, hatred and envy were at their minimal. A time when Nnamdi could visit Obi his close friend and other neighbors freely, and eat whatever they were offered without fear of food poisoning.
A time when Obi and these neighbors would also visit Nnamdi and also eat in his house. And as usual, Nnamdi’s mother would remind them to take their studies seriously and try to become responsible people in future.
There was a time when Nnamdi loved the courses; ‘Civic Education’ and ‘Social Studies’. He loved and believed strongly in the Abraham Lincoln definition of Democracy. ‘Government of the People, For the people, and by the people’, and would never let his family members rest because he kept reciting it even in his sleep.
There was a time when some bus drivers in Owerri would actually check through their pockets to give Nnamdi his due 700 Naira change (or Cash-back), rather than zoom off with the full 1,000 Naira; a time when the other passengers wouldn’t laugh at Nnamdi for being dumb.
No, why would they?
A time when the passengers would instead force the driver to stop, beat him up for being cunning, and ensure that he gives Nnamdi the 700 Naira cash back which was rightfully due to him. A time when Nnamdi would prostrate on the floor and bless all the passengers for coming to his rescue because the 700 Naira was the only money which he had on him.
There was a time when market women wouldn’t sell spoilt food products to Nnamdi.
No, why should they?
They wouldn’t turn the food products upside down, in order to sell it off to Nnamdi or any other unfortunate customer. Instead, they would dispose it and sell fresh ones to him, because they wanted him to come back next time.
There was a time when there were no thugs in Onitsha, pretending to be uniformed men. They would stop the vehicle carrying Nnamdi and his family, with the sole aim of collecting some money from the tired looking driver whose beards had accumulated dust due to driving with open windows. They would instruct the driver to park by the road side and begin to ask for unnecessary papers like Car-Wash receipts or tyre-purchase receipts.
After causing an unnecessary scene and making sure that the driver and every passenger including Nnamdi and his family had been thoroughly exhausted, they would bill and extract money from driver like palm wine tappers extracting palm wine with no iota of mercy. Then they would walk away in search of their next victim. But there was a time when all these didn’t happen to Nnamdi and his family.
There was a time when Nnamdi’s cousins in Casablanca could visit him in Aba without fear of being kidnapped while making the long journey by bus from Lagos to Aba.
There was indeed a time in Nnamdi’s Life.
But where is Nnamdi?