Mrs. Kemi Badenoch, the UK Conservative Party’s prime ministerial hopeful, must rue the day her proud parents sent her back to Nigeria. Judging from her frequent and subtle expressions of regret, that “dark chapter” of her life must be the reason she is both black in skin and, by association, in her own eyes.
I don’t begrudge Madam Badenoch her good fortune of returning early enough to the UK from this “shithole” where she allegedly wielded machetes in a girls’ school like an African village warrior, or where she had to scrub toilets without running water. If she must exaggerate her Nigerian experiences to become Prime Minister, by all means, let her fulminate. It would be good to see her at Number 10, Downing Street. Perhaps as PM she’ll send bulldozers to flatten this “heap of a country” from where an endless stream of immigrants continues to irritate her.
She is right about one thing: nobody likes a toilet without water. Nearly four decades after her own teenage struggles, Nigerian schools are still plagued by broken infrastructure, dry taps, and decayed facilities. Her alma mater, Federal Government Girls’ College, Shagamu, is most likely a shadow of itself, as are all Unity Colleges today.
Our governments at every level have failed us. But we do not need a Kemi, speaking from London, to announce it—especially not when her self-serving deprecations are dressed up as campaign soundbites for British votes.
I attended a federal government college like Kemi. Students were required to bring a cutlass (not machete), hoe, and broom as part of our training regimen. It wasn’t punishment; it was practical life-skills education, no different from the mission schools built by Kemi’s “preferred ancestors.”
The irony is that while Kemi hurls insults to win Conservative applause, many Britons quietly see through her. As PM Keir Starmer quipped in July 2024, she is nothing more than a “self-appointed saviour of Western civilisation on a desperate search for relevance.”
Nigeria’s tragedy is bad leadership and corruption, yes—but it is also a product of the meddling of Kemi’s chosen homeland and its allies. The West encouraged apartheid in South Africa, propped up dictators, toppled reformists, sustained proxy wars, and imposed economic policies that impoverished whole nations. For decades, they’ve destabilised Africa while carting away its mineral wealth.
So how did denigrating Nigeria become Badenoch’s ladder to power? What began as one-off bitter reminiscence has grown into a constant, intentional, and embellished narrative.
She isn’t alone. The US Mission in Nigeria and a Canadian court have joined the chorus of diplomatic insults. In March 2025, America expelled Ebrahim Rasool, South Africa’s ambassador, for calling out Donald Trump’s race-baiting rhetoric. Yet, the same US Mission in Abuja, on July 29, had no qualms breaching diplomatic norms when it tweeted:
“While Nigerians are urged to endure economic hardship like labour pains, some governors are splurging billions on new government houses.”
A day earlier, it had issued a visa advisory warning Nigerians not to exploit travel for “birth tourism.”
Canada, too, went further when a court declared Nigerian political parties as terror organisations.
True, Nigerians know their leaders are profligate and their political parties corrupt special-purpose vehicles. But the US and Canada are not blameless referees. They should remain within the bounds of diplomacy.
If only Kemi, Washington, and Ottawa looked at the ledger, they would see how much Nigerians contribute to their economies—as foreign students, tourists, and patients. In 2024, CBN Governor Olayemi Cardoso told lawmakers that forex demand for education and healthcare had reached $40 billion in a decade, exceeding the nation’s foreign reserves.
Nigeria’s house is messy, but it is our mess. Outsiders—be they prime ministerial aspirants or foreign missions—must tread carefully. And as for Kemi Badenoch, she is still crossing the river at the wrong spot.