-By Abdul Mahmud
Contemporary Nigeria feels like a country pulling against itself. Every day brings shock and surprises. Every night brings deeper worries. The country moves, but it moves without directions. It is not collapse, yet it is not order. It is something in between. Something that drags Nigerians down and wears them out. It resembles a place that has lost itself and the centre that no longer holds. A place where authority exists only in name. A place where power speaks loudly but acts weakly. Many Nigerians now describe the country in images borrowed from history. One of those images is China during its Warlord Era. It is not a perfect comparison. It is not even a comfortable one. But it is a useful frame for understanding the tragic drift of a country that cannot govern itself with clarity.
China of the early twentieth century lived under fractured authority. Regional strongmen carved out fiefdoms. Armies answered to personal loyalty rather than the nation. Rulers acted like emperors. But they were actually terrors. Chinese struggled to stay alive between the shifting lines of conflict. Hope became a fragile currency. Trust disappeared. Nigeria today is not China of 1916. Still, it mirrors some of the same anxieties, the same sense of mercenary leadership, the same feeling that ruling elites no longer serve the people, the same mood of desperation among a population forced to improvise its survival; and the same suspicion that the state has become a shell that echoes emptiness, but never protects. Everywhere you look, you see a ruling class that feeds on the very system it was meant to sustain. It is a ruling class that eats itself. And in doing so, it consumes the country.
Across Nigeria, the sense of safety has thinned to a whisper. Entire regions drift into insecurity. Armed groups take advantage of the vacuum. Communities mourn losses that have become too frequent to shock. The government responds with promises, yet the reality remains unchanged. Nigerians are stampeded with announcements, the type Fela once famously sang about as “government magic”, and endless condemnations. They hear everything except real solutions. Nigerians die on highways. They die on their farms. They die in their homes. They die while waiting for leaders who refuse to lead. It is a tragedy that repeats itself so often that it feels like part of the national routine. In China’s Warlord Era, leaders fought for territory. Control was the only ideology. The state became a broken vessel. Yet, something unexpected happened. Even in the midst of chaos, the Chinese clung to the idea of a future China. They nurtured the dream of a unified republic. They preserved their cultural memory. They produced thinkers, writers, and reformers who refused to surrender to the disorder around them. And when the warlords finally exhausted themselves, the country began the slow process of rebuilding. It was messy. It was violent. It was painful. But the idea of China survived.
The idea of China survived because its deepest institutions outlived the warlords who tried to overthrow them. Local communities kept their traditions intact. Teachers educated children in classical texts. Merchants maintained networks that tied distant regions together. Reformers in cities like Beijing, Shanghai, and Guangzhou carried forward debates about national renewal. Newspapers, student groups, and emerging political parties kept alive a vision of a united republic, even when the country itself was fractured. These threads held society together when the state could not. The idea also survived because the Chinese never abandoned the belief that their destiny was collective. They experienced warlordism as a temporary betrayal of the national project, not its end. They protested fragmentation. They wrote against it. They fought against it. They imagined a future in which China would be whole again. This imagination created pressure that weakened the warlords’ grips, and when military exhaustion set in, the intellectual and cultural groundwork for rebuilding was ready. Out of that groundwork emerged the next phase of the Chinese state. As it was then, and as it had always been, the Chinese nation-state building was a fierce struggle for grounding visions and competing ideas, not a flippant appeal to sentiment or convenience. It required depth, conviction, and the hard labour of shaping a shared future rather than the easy pursuit of applause for the warlords.
Nigeria is inching close to the point where it must reclaim itself from its own violent fragments. The danger of fragmentation continues to grow. The ruling elites continue to fight among themselves. They continue to chase influence and access while the country burns. They chase the next election cycle. They chase everything except the wellbeing of Nigerians. They do not confront the insecurity that terrorises ordinary Nigerians. They do not confront the poverty that reduces life to a miserable hustle. They do not confront the corruption that empties public coffers. They do not confront the decay of institutions that once held the country together. What they confront instead is each other: “Someone once said you are supposed be kept away in the zoo. Sincerely that’s where you belong”. And in that confrontation, they devastate the very system they claim to defend. The judiciary is hijacked. The legislature is compromised. The executive is swollen with power but thin on capacity. Agencies clash. Serving governors accuse past governors. They deflect; and when they are not deflecting on the real issues, they are busy abusing fellow Nigeria: “Go and die”. The federal state stumbles along as the subnational states burn. This is how a country eats itself. Not through dramatic implosion. But through constant erosion.
China’s Warlord Era ended through exhaustion. Nigeria cannot afford such an ending. The cost in lives would be unbearable. The social damage would last generations. The economic ruin would push millions into irreversible poverty. Though the world is different now, populations are larger, weapons are deadlier, and the interdependence of communities is deeper, a Nigerian collapse would be disastrous. It would be a continental earthquake. So the question is simple. When will our ruling elite realise that it has consumed too much of the country’s vitality? When does it understand that its survival depends on the survival of the country? When does it learn that power cannot be sustained on the ruins of public trust? These lessons appear obvious. Yet they seem to escape those who hold office. A country cannot run on improvisation. It cannot survive on announcements. It cannot endure on propaganda. It needs a moral centre. It needs a political vision. It needs leaders who understand that governance is not performance. Governance is responsibility. It is a duty. It is courage. It is the ability to stand between citizens and danger. And it is the humility to know when the state is crumbling and must be rebuilt.
China recovered because its people refused to let the idea of China die. Nigeria stands at a similar crossroads. Nigerians still believe in the idea of Nigeria. They show it every day. They show it in their stubborn resilience. They show it in their refusal to give up. They show it in their search for work, for safety, for dignity. They show it in their prayers. They show it in their grief. They show it even when the state ignores them. But belief is not infinite. Resilience is not eternal. Hope is not immortal. There comes a time when citizens look at their leaders and see nothing but hunger for power. There comes a time when they recognise that the ruling class feeds on the country like a parasite. There comes a time when they see that those who govern have no interest in building a future. At that point when the ruling class begins to devour itself, the people begin to chart a course of their own.
If Nigeria is to avoid that fate, its ruling class must act now to save the country and itself. It must restore security. It must strengthen its institutions. It must clean its politics. It must rebuild public trust. These are not lofty ideals. They are basic responsibilities. They are the foundation of every functioning state. Without them, the country slips deeper into the logic of the Warlord Era. Disarray. Fragmentation. Fear. The tragedy of Nigeria is not that it lacks resources. It is not that it lacks ambition. It is that it lacks leaders who understand the moral weight of stewardship. Leadership is not enjoyment. Leadership is a burden. Leadership is sacrifice. Leadership is the understanding that every decision shapes the lives of millions. China’s past is a warning. Nigeria’s present is a plea. The ruling class can still step backwards from the path of self-destruction. It can still choose purpose over plunder. It can still rebuild the fragile trust that binds the country together. But it must act. It must reform. It must confront the insecurity, the corruption, the disorder, and the decay. A ruling class that eats itself leaves nothing behind. Nigeria deserves better. Nigeria deserves leaders who build. Nigeria deserves a state that protects. Nigeria deserves a future that is not swallowed by the failures of today.