Once when I was young, my brother and I got into this conversation in which we agreed that Nigeria’s national anthem was one of the best in the world. I haven’t read the lyrics of all other national anthems but I have, especially since that conversation, paid attention to the beat of various anthems, particularly at sporting events. I always find myself comparing Nigeria’s anthem to that of the rival country and ours always sounded better. It might be my patriotic ears being tone deaf to anything else but surely my ears couldn’t be wrong, could they?
When the first five beats of ‘Arise O Compatriots’ rings out, at public events or on TV, it is always accompanied by feelings of rekindled patriotism regardless of what depressing incident has been playing out in the country.
Today it is sad to face the reality that that feeling is gone, lost with an anthem that has given us joy and pride in a nation. It has also given us moments of humour as well. How can we forget so soon the number of political nominees who have been stumped at ministerial screenings when the question is posed, “Can you sing the national anthem?”
I don’t imagine that at the next ministerial screening, and the one after it, that we will have such questions being posed to nominees for public offices. It would be most unfair to do that to any adult. I already know at this stage in my life, that I am too old to commit to learning a new, or is it an old national anthem written by a foreigner, Lillian Jean Williams, and handed down from the colonial enterprise that bequeathed us this country in 1960.
Until 1978, ‘Nigeria We Hail Thee’ was belted out at every occasion until the Obasanjo regime, the first one, decided we needed an anthem written by Nigerians. That was how we ended up with ‘Arise O Compatriots’, a composite of five different poems by five Nigerians and composed to the music of a Nigerian police officer, Benedict Odiase.
The logic for the reversion to the old national anthem has been scanty from the members of the National Assembly. The one narrative I have seen is that the reversion will mark the return of the good old days of yesteryears, when the economy was not in shambles and the country was much more peaceful—save for the constant coups, the profligacy, and the failure to invest in the future growth of the country. It all sounds like nostalgia is the driving force behind this reasoning, the idea that the past is infinitely better than the present because it is remembered with more fondness. Aside from this, the opinion of Nigerians was never sought in this decision. An opinion poll might have shown an overwhelming disapproval of the move.
This has left many Nigerians with the question as to why then? Why do it? Especially considering that there are issues that are more pressing in the country. The other question is, well, in what way exactly will changing the anthem impact Nigerian lives today?
Words are powerful weapons. They can change the psyche of a people and turn sheep into wolves. We all know and I take it for granted that we all agree, as much as agreement is possible, that Nigeria needs a national reorientation. This can be achieved mostly with words and carefully curated practices on the parts of the leadership for the followership to do what followers do—follow. In this regard, the problem with what, as of today, is the old anthem, ‘Arise O Compatriots,’ is not the lyrics and the spirit of it, but the fact that its history, the context of its conception and its actual meaning have never really been taught to Nigerians who have over the decades been compelled to memorize the words.
A few years ago, I was in attendance at a conference where a retired military general talked about what the Nigerian anthem meant. He did a line-by-line analysis of the lyrics, discussed the denotative and connotative meanings, and its implicit and explicit demands on Nigerians. I left that event filled with awe and renewed appreciation for our national anthem.
So, while in pursuit of nostalgia and long-lost glory days that—let’s not forget, included a civil war and mass killings—we must remember that it is not enough to revert to an old national anthem with dodgy history and origin and expect things to fall in place. It is never going to be enough to force school children to learn the lyrics and belt it out at school assemblies or interschool competitions, but they must be taught what exactly the lyrics mean contextually.
Most crucially, we must also understand that sometimes—such as the times we are in—words are not enough. Promises to hand our children a “banner without stain” must be said, meant, and backed up by tangible actions. This onerous task falls on the president who assented to this bill, and the lawmakers who sped this bill through several readings, and the generality of the country’s leadership.
Perhaps at a more convenient time, it would be appropriate to do a critical discourse analysis of the lyrics of the restored anthem but at first glance, there are words that immediately jump out at the reader. For instance, the connotative and denotative meanings of the word “native land” and the linguistic and social practices around that expression would make for interesting dissection. We all know now in contemporary English usage when a speaker, say a white colonialist such as Ms. Williams who wrote the lyrics, uses the word native, how a Nigerian hears it and what meaning he or she draws from it.
I have seen people objecting to the presence of the word “tribe” in the anthem and while I think some of it is extreme reactions because of their valid distaste for the anthem, we do identify as tribes and use various identity markers as individuals and groups. The point is that our differences be acknowledged and should not be a barrier to our unity.
I imagine that it would be interesting trying to analyse some expressions that have become gendered since the lyric was first written in 1959. Expressions like “In brotherhood we stand” viewed from a feminist theorist lens, would make for interesting discourse.
I suppose one of the merits of the restored anthem is its appeal to our religious sensibilities because in parts, it reads like a prayer, especially that last stanza. It is also aspirational in many ways—aspiring to a “flag that shall be a symbol that truth and justice shall reign” and a land “where no man shall be oppressed.” It is a promising lyric that could easily fail if oppression and the injustice that have landed us in these cycles of violence, hate and revenge killings, we are not addressed. At the same time, one could argue that here we are, shifting the buck to the glorious foot of God almighty, to deliver for us a country that he has blessed us with the resources to deliver ourselves.
So, I may not be a fan of this switch, to be honest, I am quite ambivalent about it, and do not really understand the argument for its restoration, I do however think that our leaders have unwittingly dug themselves into promises that they would be expected to uphold, not just with hoarsely rendered lyrics at public functions but in the decisions, they take and the actions they undertake to deliver on the promises in this anthem. Whatever the case, God bless Nigeria.