My dear friends and distinguished members of the (Nigerian) Guild of Editors, I thank you sincerely for the honour of inviting me to interact with you today. I am immensely grateful for this opportunity — to speak to those who shape the narratives, values, and conscience of our nation.
Today, more than ever, Nigeria stands at a critical crossroads, and it is vital that we reflect together on the path we must take if we are to restore both the dignity of our country and the hope of our people. This platform allows us to discuss not only the challenges that confront us — the moral, social, and economic crises that have brought us to this juncture — but also the vision, responsibility, and collective action required to reclaim the promise of a better Nigeria for all citizens.
Our country, Nigeria, stands today at a most critical crossroads. Just two weeks ago, the President of the United States, Donald Trump, made a comment on social media referring to Nigeria as a “now disgraced country”. He singled out the killings in our land without compunction, but in truth, he was merely echoing what many Nigerians of good conscience have been saying for years — often at the risk of being accused of de-marketing their own country. The reality is stark: Nigeria is facing existential challenges that demand our sober reflection.
For many, the immediate reaction was to debate whether there is genocide in Nigeria or not. But that is not the central question. The questions we should ask ourselves are far deeper: are there killings, whether genocide or not? Why the word disgraced? Is it only the killings, or the culture of impunity that allows them to persist? Is it the insecurity that haunts our citizens, or the failure of leadership to protect them?
These are the questions that should trouble every Nigerian. They force us to look inward and confront the uncomfortable truth — that our disgrace is not defined by what others say, but by what we allow to persist in our society. If the answers are painful — and they are — then rather than take offence, we should search for the reasons and begin to confront them with honesty and courage. That, for me, is the true path to national restoration.
We are disgraced not merely because of what others say, but because of what we have allowed ourselves to become. Today, over 130 million Nigerians live in poverty; millions more struggle daily to afford basic necessities, while over 20 million children are denied the right to education — the chance to learn, grow, and contribute to their nation’s future.
We have surpassed India and China in infant mortality, even though our population is less than a tenth of theirs. We are now counted among the most insecure, hungriest nations, and among the worst places to be born. With the highest youth unemployment rate and widespread corruption, foreign leaders have justly described us as ‘fantastically corrupt’.
Yet, even in the face of such grim realities, we must not lose faith in our capacity to rebuild. Let me illustrate with a recent example. In the run-up to the recent Anambra election, I spent the week visiting schools of nursing and health institutions in different towns — Amichi, Nnewi, Adazi-Nnukwu, Agulu, Ogidi, Oji River, Ihiala, and Enugu — donating support to improve facilities and helping to strengthen the foundations of human development. These visits were my modest contributions to building a healthier, more educated society.
At every school I visited, I told the students that a serious country must be deeply concerned with its education, its healthcare, and the need to lift its citizens out of poverty. I reminded them that education is the foundation of our nation’s progress, and that the future of Nigeria depends on what they learn and how they apply it. I urged them to persevere despite the challenges around them, assuring them that the strength and dignity of our country will ultimately be measured by the knowledge, discipline, and opportunities we give to our young people. Investing in education, I emphasised, remains the most important investment we can make for tomorrow.
Of all the schools I visited, I was most moved by the Practising School in Agulu. Classrooms had been burnt, and children were learning under makeshift shelters in the rain. I assured the community that reconstruction would begin soon, in January 2026, as I rally friends for a project I consider worthy. I stressed that true national wealth lies in our children and their education. Seeing their struggle, I reflected on how the neglect of schools like this contributes to the perception of Nigeria as a “disgraced” country. It strengthened my resolve: we must make education a priority and protect the future of every child in Nigeria.
Then, on the day of the election, something happened that deeply troubled me and has stayed with me. My media aide, Valentine came to me and shared what he had heard from people in our community — Agulu and nearby areas. Many had said: ‘Since Obi is not on the ballot, we will vote for whoever pays us’. Some even said that since other parties were offering N50,000, they would collect N10,000 from my side if I offered it.
I smiled and told him a story that captured my conviction. I said to him: ‘If I used N10 million to buy 200 votes, and with that same money began rebuilding the burnt practising school where children now learn under the rain, which is better and more worthy? Must we destroy the future of our society for a transient benefit today’?
My answer was clear: I would rather lose 10 times than buy votes once. Those who do otherwise may keep their consciences; I will not join them in destroying tomorrow for the sake of a fleeting advantage today. That conversation with Valentine sums up one of the deepest moral crises confronting Nigeria. When a people sell their votes, they sell their conscience, and when conscience dies, the nation follows. That, my dear editors, is one of the reasons we are now described as a disgraced country.
These are the things that disgrace us which we must talk about — not the tweet of a foreign leader, but the message our conscience sends to us every morning when we see the suffering of our people.
But I still believe that redemption is possible. I believe that through truth, sacrifice, and leadership by example, Nigeria can rise again. That is why your role as editors is vital. You are not just recorders of history; you are the conscience of the nation. You shape narratives, correct distortions, and remind leaders of the truths they may prefer to forget. The urgency of our moment cannot be overstated. We must turn things around by holding leaders accountable, not for promises made, but for promises kept.
Let us rebuild our moral foundation. Let us insist on elections free from bribery and intimidation. Let us demand that public funds be used to build schools and hospitals, not to buy votes or sustain luxury. If we do these things, we will no longer be called a disgraced country but a nation of dignity—a people who may stumble, yet always strive to stand upright. All of us, collectively, must work hard to rewrite this ugly narrative and restore Nigeria’s honour among the nations of the world.
Thank you, and may God bless the Federal Republic of Nigeria.
Obi delivered this address at the 21st All Nigeria Editors Conference, which ended on Thursday, 13 November 2025 in Abuja
