Funke Egbemode’s piece: Nigeria’s Returning Future on Temitope Ajayi facebook page, is painful because it tells a truth many families know but do not want to say aloud.
Too many of our brightest children have left, and too many parents now sit in beautiful homes comforted by remittances but denied presence. It is a national ache. It is also a warning.
But not every story must end that way.
I count myself fortunate, deeply fortunate, that my children were educated abroad and yet returned home to take up the mantle of the family business. In a time when many parents quietly assume that the best gift they can give their children is a permanent escape route from Nigeria, I have seen another possibility. I have seen that children can go out, learn, grow, compete globally, and still come back with conviction, purpose and commitment to build here.
That kind of outcome does not happen by luck alone. It takes intention.
Parents must be deliberate in how they raise their children. We cannot spend their formative years speaking of Nigeria only as a place of frustration, danger, corruption and disappointment, and then expect them to one day feel a sense of duty toward it. A child who is taught that home is only a place to flee from will not dream of returning to build it.
We must tell the truth about Nigeria, yes. We must not hide the insecurity, the weak systems, the policy inconsistency, the wasted opportunities or the daily frustrations that test even the strongest hearts. But we must also present Nigeria as a place of prospects, of unfinished work, of immense opportunity, and of relevance.
We must show our children not only the problems, but also the possibilities. Not only the obstacles, but also the openings. Not only the failures of today, but the future they have the power to shape.
The future must not be presented to them as something that will happen to them. It must be presented as something they are meant to influence.
In my own case, I am also grateful that my children are not returning into a vacuum. They have a mentor, not related to us by blood, but bonded to us by trust, values, competence and shared vision. He has been deliberately groomed to help take over the business and, just as importantly, to mentor my children as they step into leadership.
That, too, is part of the lesson. Legacy is not preserved by bloodline alone. It is preserved by values, by structures, by succession, and by the humility to prepare others to lead.
Too many African parents build businesses, influence and networks around themselves, but fail to build a bridge to the next generation.
Then when age comes, or illness comes, or death comes, everything begins to shake. We must do better. We must raise children who understand work, responsibility, service and stewardship. We must also build institutions around them, mentors around them, and examples before them.
Intentional parenting is not merely about paying school fees in pounds or dollars. It is about shaping mindset. It is about what is said at the dining table, what is celebrated in the home, what kind of ambition is encouraged, and what kind of citizenship is modelled.
If all our children hear is that success means leaving, then leaving will become the highest aspiration. But if they are taught that true success also includes relevance, contribution and impact, then some of them will return with fire in their bones.
We need a new framework for raising the next generation in Nigeria. A framework that is honest, but not defeatist. Realistic, but not cynical. Global in outlook, but rooted in home. We must raise children who can compete anywhere, but who still see value in building here. We must raise young people who do not only ask, “What can I escape from?” but also, “What can I solve? What can I build? What can I change?”
Because the truth is simple: the future is not waiting somewhere else. The future is them.
They are the ones who understand technology, new markets, new culture, new models of enterprise and new ways of solving old problems. They are the ones who must modernise our businesses, strengthen our institutions, deepen our professionalism and reimagine our country.
But they can only do that if we raise them to believe they are not victims of Nigeria’s story, but participants in rewriting our story. The will craft the future.
There is an African wisdom that says a child who knows the value of home will not treat it like a waiting room.
We must teach that value again.
Yes, let our children travel. Let them study. Let them gain exposure. Let them see the world and learn excellence at the highest level. But let us not raise them to believe that Nigeria is beneath their talent.
Let us raise them to know that their talent is part of Nigeria’s answer.
Funke’s piece mourns Nigeria’s departing future. Mine is a quiet testimony that another path is possible. With intention, with values, with mentorship, with succession, and with honest hope, we can raise not a departing future, but a returning one.
And that future, if we prepare it well, will not only inherit Nigeria. It will rebuild it.
