“There Was a Country,” wrote Chinua Achebe, Nigeria’s foremost literary figure and one of the world’s most respected storytellers. Although primarily a memoir of his experiences during the Biafran War between 1967 and 1970, the title itself provokes deeper reflection. It invites a painful question that still resonates today: What became of Nigeria?
Biafra never survived. But what, in truth, happened to Nigeria itself? What became of the era of groundnut pyramids, thriving cotton ginneries, leather industries, textile mills, car assembly plants, ambitious steel complexes, petroleum refineries, and state-led projects that once symbolised national promise? Beyond the collapse of infrastructure, what happened to the people and the spirit that held the country together?
A portrait of Nigeria through a doctor’s eyes
Achebe’s memoir, published in October 2012 shortly before his death, echoes in tone with an earlier work, A Doctor’s Nigeria, written by Robert Collis and published in 1960. Collis, an Irish-born British colonial medical officer and gifted storyteller, arrived in Nigeria in the late 1950s and documented his experiences during an extensive road journey across the country.
His book presents a Nigeria that feels almost unimaginable today — a peaceful land largely untouched by greed, ethnic division, religious tension, and widespread insecurity. Though not without its imperfections, violence and chaos were rare exceptions rather than defining features of daily life.
Reading Collis’s account today, especially in light of frequent reports of deadly bandit attacks in states such as Kwara and Niger, highlights the stark contrast between past and present. The same road between Jebba and Bida that now evokes fear and tragedy was once part of Collis’s adventurous journey, undertaken without anxiety.
A fearless journey across a united land
Collis’s narrative blends personal experience with social observation and travel writing, offering a vivid glimpse into Nigeria’s heart at independence. He described a society where people trusted one another, travelled freely, and lived with a deep sense of shared humanity.
For many young Nigerians today, the idea of travelling across the country without fear, GPS tracking, or security escorts seems almost unbelievable. Safety, once taken for granted, now feels like a distant memory.
Collis began his journey from the University College Hospital in Ibadan, embarking on a road trip covering nearly 4,800 kilometres in a Morris car, relying only on a paper map and limited fuel. Despite these challenges, he moved confidently from town to town, often helping and receiving help from strangers.
His route took him through Ogbomosho, Ilorin, Mokwa, Bida, Minna, Kaduna, and Gboko, extending as far as the Cameroon border. Today, many of these areas are associated with banditry, kidnappings, and insecurity.
On one occasion, after running out of petrol, Collis was rescued by passengers in a passing lorry who willingly shared their fuel with him. Acts of kindness like this were not extraordinary at the time; they reflected the values of the society.
Simplicity, trust, and access to leadership
Collis’s experience went beyond encounters with ordinary citizens. He also met Nigeria’s first Prime Minister, Abubakar Tafawa Balewa, in Bauchi, walking into his residence without the elaborate security barriers that surround political leaders today.
Balewa reportedly expressed his own uncertainty about leaving his teaching career for politics, remarking that leading Nigeria would require exceptional vigilance and wisdom to navigate its complexities and preserve unity.
Such openness reflected a time when leaders were more accessible and lived modestly among the people they served.
Trust extended into everyday commerce as well. In rural communities, traders often left goods by the roadside with simple price indicators, trusting buyers to pay honestly. Newspaper vendors operated similarly, relying on the integrity of customers.
The present reality: fear replacing trust
In contrast, modern Nigeria faces deep insecurity despite advancements in technology, policing, and surveillance. Electric fences, security cameras, and reinforced gates have become common, yet safety remains uncertain.
Kidnappings, armed attacks, and violent crime have turned many parts of the country into high-risk zones. Citizens now avoid certain highways, and even routine travel carries significant risk.
Achebe’s warning and leadership failures
Achebe attributed Nigeria’s decline largely to poor leadership and corruption, particularly in the years following the civil war. He criticised the rise of ethnic favouritism, which weakened national unity and undermined fairness in governance.
According to Achebe, political leaders betrayed the ideals of independence, turning unity into a slogan while pursuing personal and sectional interests. He warned that such failures would push the country into prolonged decline.
However, Collis’s portrayal of leaders like Balewa suggests a more nuanced reality. Balewa appeared humble, cautious, and aware of the enormous responsibility of holding Nigeria together.
A nation at a crossroads
Looking back, one is left to wonder whether Balewa underestimated the forces that would later divide the country, or whether Collis’s view reflected only a fleeting moment of optimism before deeper problems emerged.
Together, the accounts of Achebe and Collis offer a powerful reflection on Nigeria’s journey — from hope and trust to uncertainty and fear.
They raise urgent questions about leadership, national values, and whether the country can rediscover the spirit that once defined it.
Nigeria’s story, as both men suggest in different ways, remains unfinished.
From Promise to Peril: Revisiting Nigeria’s Lost Innocence Through Achebe and Collis
