“Do You Know Who I Am?”: A Call For Restraint And Humility Among Nigeria’s Elite, by Isaac Asabor

Recently, two incidents have drawn sharp attention to a growing culture of entitlement and abuse of power among Nigeria’s elite. First, a lawmaker was caught on camera slapping a Bolt driver, a man simply trying to earn a living. The lawmaker’s justification? The all-too-familiar refrain: “Do you know who I am?” Shortly after, a video surfaced of an army general mercilessly beating a driver whose only “crime” was overtaking his vehicle on the road. These disturbing events are not isolated. They are part of a broader trend of arrogance and high-handedness by those in power, directed against ordinary Nigerians.

This phrase, “Do you know who I am?” has become a weapon wielded by those in privileged positions to oppress, intimidate, and dehumanize others. Yet, it is a hollow question. For in truth, only God knows who we are, both in this life and in the eternal sense. This article serves as a reminder to Nigeria’s elite that the power and positions anyone holds today are fleeting. They are lent to him or her for a season and should be wielded with humility, not arrogance. 

Power is a transient gift. History is filled with stories of rulers, officials, and elites who once sat at the pinnacle of society but were brought low by time and circumstance. A lawmaker’s tenure in office is finite. A general’s rank is temporary. Even a monarch, supposedly ruling for life, eventually meets their end. The great Ozymandias of Shelley’s poem, who once proclaimed himself “king of kings,” is now nothing more than ruins in the sand.

For Nigeria’s elite, the lesson is clear: the positions you occupy today are not permanent. They are a trust, a stewardship that demands responsibility, humility, and service to the people. To misuse that power by oppressing others is to squander the trust that has been placed in you. Worse, it invites the scorn of history and the judgment of a higher power. 

These incidents of public oppression highlight the vast gulf that exists between Nigeria’s ruling class and the masses. While many Nigerians are struggling to navigate an economy marked by inflation, unemployment, and uncertainty, a significant portion of the elite appears insulated from these challenges. Worse still, they often exacerbate the plight of ordinary citizens through their actions.

When a Bolt driver is slapped for doing his job or a driver is beaten for overtaking a vehicle, it sends a chilling message: that the elite see themselves as untouchable, above the law, and beyond reproach. This is not just an abuse of power; it is an erosion of the social contract. 

Leaders and public officials are meant to be servants of the people, not their oppressors. Each act of violence or intimidation only deepens the divide between those who wield power and those who endure it. If this trend continues unchecked, it will foster resentment, undermine social cohesion, and threaten the very fabric of Nigerian society.

To Nigeria’s elites, this is a plea for restraint and reflection. The privileges you enjoy today are not a license to oppress. Instead, they are an opportunity to uplift others, to create a society where respect, dignity, and fairness are extended to all. When you wield power without compassion, you alienate yourself from the people and dishonor the office you hold.

Rather than asking, “Do you know who I am?” consider the question: “Who am I serving?” Leadership is not about titles or rank. It is about impact and legacy. Will you be remembered as someone who used your influence to improve lives, or as someone who abused it to feed your ego? 

In the end, the question of “who we are” is not determined by the offices we hold or the titles we bear. It is determined by our character, our actions, and our relationship with our Creator. God alone knows who we truly are, and it is His judgment that matters most.

The Bible reminds us in Proverbs 16:18 that “Pride goes before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall.” The arrogance displayed by the lawmaker and the army general is not just morally wrong; it is a dangerous path that leads to ruin. Public officials must remember that they are not above the law or divine accountability. Their actions, both public and private, will ultimately be weighed.

A poignant lesson can be drawn from the humility of ordinary Nigerians who, despite their challenges, strive to treat others with dignity. A market woman struggling to sell her goods, a bus driver navigating chaotic traffic, or a teacher shaping young minds, these are the people who form the backbone of society. They endure hardships without the privilege of power or influence. If these individuals can show kindness and respect in the face of adversity, surely those in positions of power can do the same. 

The incidents involving the lawmaker and the general are a wake-up call. They remind us of the urgent need for accountability, both within government and in society at large. Public officials must be held to higher standards of behavior, and mechanisms must be put in place to address abuses of power.

Nigeria’s elite must embrace a culture of humility and service. They must remember that their actions set an example for others and that their legacy will be defined not by their wealth or titles, but by the way they treated the people they were entrusted to lead. 

To the elites of Nigeria: the positions you hold today are temporary. They are opportunities to serve, not platforms for self-aggrandizement. Before you raise your hand to slap, or your voice to intimidate, remember this: true greatness lies in humility, restraint, and service to others.

The next time you feel tempted to ask, “Do you know who I am?” pause and reflect. For in the grand scheme of life, it is not your rank, title, or wealth that defines you. It is your humanity. And that humanity is best expressed not in acts of oppression, but in acts of kindness and respect.