Nigerians Are Always Happy -By Prince Charles Dickson PhD

A national satire on beer, broken systems, and the baffling value systems that keeps us smiling through tears.

JRD Tata had a friend who used to say that he misplaced and lost his pen very often. Hence, he would use only very cheap pens, so that he didn’t have to worry about losing them. He was worried about his carelessness.

JRD suggested to him to buy the costliest pen he could afford and see what happens.

His friend did just that and purchased a 22-carat gold Cross pen. After nearly six months JRD met him and asked him if his habit of misplacing pens still bothered him? His friend said that he had become very careful about his costly pen, and he was himself surprised how he had changed!

JRD explained to him that it was the value of the pen that had made the difference, and there was nothing wrong with him as a person!

This is what happens in our life. We are careful with things that we value the most.

• If we value our health, we will be careful about what and how we eat.
• If we value our friends, we will treat them with respect.
• If we value money, we will be careful while spending.
• If we value our time, we will not waste it.
• If we value our relationship, we will be careful not to push our limits and risk breaking it.

Everything depends on our perception of value.

There is a global conspiracy theory that Nigerians are the happiest people on earth. A theory so bold that even we, the subjects of this emotional experiment, occasionally pause and ask ourselves, “Me? Happy? With this economy? With this exchange rate? With this insecurity? With the national grid collapsing due to national greed.”

Yet the data is undeniable: ₦1.54 trillion spent on beer in nine months.

If happiness had a budget line, this would be it.

Nigeria may not have reliable electricity, but we have reliable consumption habits. The country may not produce enough jobs, but we produce enough empty bottles. Our security architecture may look like it was designed by tired civil servants after pepper soup, but our nightlife runs like Swiss clockwork.

There are many proofs that Nigerians love enjoyment, but this new figure has carried first position. It is now official: Nigerians may not value their leaders, their hospitals, their future or their taxes, but they value cold beer like a covenant.

And who can blame us?

Living in Nigeria is like being in a relationship with someone who loves you in theory but forgets you in practice. You wake up to hardship, go to bed with uncertainty, and somewhere in the middle, your landlord sends a broadcast message saying he loves peace but is increasing rent.

If you don’t drink, what will you do?

Meditate?

You cannot meditate when the price of rice is rising and the price of petrol is behaving like a spiritual attack. Nigerians are not drinking for pleasure; many are drinking to survive the news cycle.

Every day: One tragedy, one inflation spike, one new policy, one new exchange rate. How won’t the nation drink?

We drink the way other countries run public healthcare: consistently.

We drink the way other countries fix roads: passionately.

We drink the way other nations repair institutions: with conviction.

Nigeria is the only country where people can be discussing kidnapping on one table and ordering more bottles on the next.

“Guy, dem kidnap three people for that side.”

“Ha! Serious? Abeg add two plates of peppered meat.”

It is emotional multitasking.

Because Nigerians have mastered the rare art of holding suffering in one hand and enjoyment in the other without spilling either. It is the only balance this country has ever achieved.

Bandits are roaming.

Inflation is jogging.

Cost of living is sprinting.

But Nigerians are still saying,

“Life no hard reach like that… at all at all.”

It is denial, yes.

But elite-level denial.

UNESCO should document it.

We drink to forget.

We drink to remember.

We drink because the music is good.

We drink because NEPA has taken light again.

We drink because work is stressful.

We drink because work is not even coming.

We drink because politicians are misbehaving.

We drink because politicians are behaving exactly as expected.

We drink because Nigeria is Nigeria-ing.

When a country’s biggest coping mechanism is bottled, malted and refrigerated, you know the nation needs therapy. But therapy is expensive.

Beer is cheaper.

Well… it used to be.

Now, even the beer is complaining.

Yet we buy it.

We misplace the expensive things — life, governance, education, national peace — and protect the cheap ones — gossip, entertainment, and political drama.

If value shaped our behaviour the way it should, Nigeria would be a paradise.

But Nigerians value vibes.

We protect vibes.

We invest in vibes.

We sacrifice for vibes.

We build GoFundMes for vibes.

Meanwhile, the country?

Well, the country is somewhere behind us, shouting for attention like the last-born in a large family.

A Hausa warning says: “Duk abin da kake raina zai haɗiye ka.”Whatever you fail to value will eventually consume you.

Nigeria’s national value system looks like this:

• We value enjoymentmore than savings.
• We value surviving todaymore than preparing for tomorrow.
• We value laughing at problemsmore than solving them.
• We treat life like a cheap pen.
• We treat enjoyment like a gold-plated Cross pen.

Our happiness is rebellious.

Stubborn.

Almost irresponsible.

When prices rise, Nigerians laugh.

When politicians misbehave, Nigerians make memes.

This happiness is not ordinary joy.

It is endurance masquerading as laughter.

It is survival packaged as banter.

It is pain dressed in agbada.

Happiness is the last thing Nigeria has not taxed.

Yet.

Imagine, just imagine, if Nigerians guarded national development the way they guard cold drinks at a party:

Nobody should touch it except authorized personnel.

If it falls, we mourn.

If it finishes, we riot.

What if:

• We valued security the way we value weekend outings?
• We valued accountability the way we value entertainment?
• We valued public good the way we value personal enjoyment?
• We valued the future the way we value “TGIF”?

Nigeria would transform overnight.

But instead, we are a nation where the price of alcohol rises, and people still buy it. But the price of governance rises, and nobody demands receipts. Because we have conditioned ourselves to protect relief more than responsibility.

Our happiness is admirable.

Our resilience is legendary.

Our adaptability is world-class.

But none of these things are development strategies. A laughing population is not automatically a thriving nation.

Let us keep our joy, because without it, this country will finish us. But let us also assign proper value to the things that build nations: institutions, planning, justice, safety, productivity, and accountability.

We have already proven we know how to drink. Now let us prove we know how to think. Because as it stands, the beer companies are enjoying the value we refuse to give to the country itself.

And until Nigeria becomes a gold pen, not a disposable biro, we will continue to lose it, forget it, misuse it, and replace it with laughter—May Nigeria win