Hadiza Abdulraheem
Kemi Badenoch, the current leader of the Conservative Party in the United Kingdom, has recently become a topic of intense media scrutiny due to her harsh remarks about Nigeria. However, a deeper examination of her comments, her career trajectory, and her political positioning reveals a troubling pattern: Badenoch embodies an archetype of opportunistic Nigerians who leverage their roots to climb the political ladder only to later turn their backs on the country once their personal ambitions are fulfilled. Her recent scathing remarks about Nigeria, calling it an irredeemably corrupt and failing nation, are not only disheartening but reflect a broader, concerning trend.
While Nigeria undoubtedly faces serious challenges, Badenoch’s selective and distorted use of facts paints an incomplete picture—a disappointing stance for someone who holds a position of considerable influence as a British-Nigerian. Badenoch’s path to power in the UK is revealing. Born in Wimbledon, London, she spent part of her formative years in Lagos, Nigeria. Her rise in British politics culminated in her role as Secretary of State for Business and Trade, but throughout her ascent, there has been a clear pattern of strategic self-positioning. Early in her political career, she embraced her Nigerian heritage, courting the Nigerian community in the UK for support. However, after consolidating her political power in Britain, she quickly distanced herself from her roots, abandoning the very people who helped her gain prominence.
This inconsistency became apparent during her 2010 campaign for the Dulwich and West Norwood constituency in the UK Parliament. At the time, Badenoch appealed directly to the Nigerian community, which encompasses Yoruba, Hausa-Fulani, and Igbo groups, under the banner of “Nigerians for Kemi Badenoch.” A campaign document that resurfaced on social media revealed her direct appeal to Nigerian voters, emphasizing her heritage. In the document, she wrote:
“I need your help. I’m running for parliament in the 2010 UK general elections. The race is very tight. Last year, the News of the World surveyed this constituency, and the forecast was that I would win. Things are much tougher this year as the party has dropped nationally in the polls. I need your help.“
I am asking for your help now to support a Nigerian trying to improve our national image and do something great here.
”However, after securing her victory, Badenoch shifted her approach, using her Nigerian background primarily as a tool for political advantage. Her rhetoric soon took a sharp turn when she ascended to the leadership of the Conservative Party, shifting her focus to appeasing the predominantly white establishment, particularly her own Conservative Party members. In doing so, she distanced herself from the Nigerian community, undermining her own heritage to further her political ambitions in the UK.
Badenoch’s rhetoric about Nigeria has since become increasingly negative. She has called Nigeria a place where “fear was everywhere,” criticizing its corruption, poverty, and infrastructure problems. In interviews, she has compared the “lawlessness” of Lagos to the order she finds in the UK. Her remarks, such as, “I grew up in Nigeria, and I saw firsthand what happens when politicians are in it for themselves, when they use public money as their private piggy banks,” demonstrate a profound sense of betrayal toward the country that helped shape her early life. What was once a cornerstone of her political identity is now something she appears ready to discard in favor of political leverage in her new role.
Adding fuel to the fire, Badenoch’s recent speech further demonstrated her disdain for Nigeria. Speaking as the UK Conservative Party leader, she expressed her determination to prevent Britain from becoming like Nigeria, a country she described as one where terrible governments destroy lives. In her push for what she called “real conservatism,” Badenoch positioned Nigeria as the epitome of failed governance, stating, “Why this matters so much to me is because I know what it is like to have something and lose it. I don’t want Britain to lose what it has.
”She elaborated on her experiences growing up in Nigeria, recounting how her “relatively wealthy family became poorer and poorer despite working harder as their money disappeared with inflation.” Badenoch went on to narrate her migration to the UK at the age of 16 with her father’s last £100, stating, “I came back to the UK at 16 with my father’s last £100 and a hope of a better life. So, I’ve lived with the consequences of a terrible government that destroys lives, and I never ever want that to happen here.
”This speech is just the latest episode of Badenoch’s repeated criticism of Nigeria. She has previously referred to the Nigerian police as “armed robbers” who use their guns to intimidate the very citizens they are meant to protect. While Nigeria does face significant governance challenges, Badenoch’s remarks seem less about genuine critique and more about pandering to her political base in Britain. Her rhetoric—framing Nigeria as a cautionary tale for the UK—is a calculated move to distance herself from her Nigerian heritage, even as she leverages it when convenient.
It is this paradox—the reliance on Nigeria’s resources, culture, and goodwill to climb the ladder, followed by outright disdain—that encapsulates Badenoch’s opportunism. Nigeria, despite its flaws, provided a foundation that she seems all too willing to abandon for the sake of foreign applause. Badenoch’s story mirrors that of many Nigerians who, while benefiting from the nation’s offerings, refuse to acknowledge or honour the role it played in their success.
Nigeria may be plagued by corruption, but it is sheer hypocrisy to ignore all that it offers. Badenoch herself spent her formative years in Lagos, a city that, despite its struggles, provided her with the foundation needed to compete on the global stage. Nigeria’s subsidized education system, its public infrastructure, and its vibrant culture all played significant roles, both directly and indirectly, in shaping her development. While Badenoch eventually left Nigeria for the UK, the pivotal influence of Nigeria during her early years cannot be overlooked.
In Nigeria, education at public universities has long been provided at a fraction of the cost compared to institutions in Europe or the United States. Even with inflation and economic challenges, students in Nigeria pay tuition fees that are a mere fraction of what their counterparts abroad face. This stark disparity becomes glaring when one considers the cost of higher education in countries like the United States, where a bachelor’s degree can set a student back tens of thousands of dollars annually. Badenoch’s ability to pursue higher aspirations abroad was built on the affordable opportunities she had in Nigeria, even if she ultimately chose to leave.
Beyond education, Nigerians have historically benefited from government-subsidized amenities such as public healthcare and petroleum products. While these systems are imperfect, they provide a foundation for many Nigerians to pursue their dreams despite the country’s systemic challenges. Public healthcare, while far from perfect, is often accessible at little or no cost compared to the prohibitive healthcare expenses in many developed countries. Similarly, fuel subsidies in Nigeria once ensured that the country had some of the lowest petrol prices globally. These government programs, though flawed, represent a nation’s attempt to care for its citizens—an effort that Badenoch has dismissed as she disparages the country she once called home.
Badenoch’s comments are not genuine critiques of her homeland but a calculated move to gain favor with a foreign audience. Her speeches, which praise British institutions while lambasting Nigerian systems, demonstrate her disconnection from the realities of both countries. For instance, her assertion that Nigeria’s police force epitomizes corruption is ironic, considering the scandals surrounding the UK’s own Metropolitan Police. Badenoch has conveniently ignored the fact that institutional corruption is a global issue, not something unique to Nigeria.
Her attempt to curry favor with the British public by criticizing Nigeria was a monumental error that will likely undermine her credibility. History offers many examples of leaders who embraced their heritage while seeking global respect. Barack Obama, despite his mixed background, celebrated his Kenyan roots, even visiting his ancestral home. Similarly, UK Prime Minister Rishi Sunak, of Indian descent, has never disparaged his heritage for political gain. Badenoch’s approach, by contrast, reeks of desperation and short-sightedness. She has traded the goodwill of her Nigerian heritage for fleeting applause, a move that may have long-term repercussions for her political career.
Badenoch’s criticism of Nigeria also extends to its people, perpetuating harmful stereotypes about Nigerians as inherently corrupt. This narrative is particularly egregious given her background. Badenoch’s family’s decision to return to Nigeria during her childhood highlights the relative accessibility of opportunities in Nigeria compared to the UK at the time. Public education in Nigeria, heavily subsidized by the government, offered her an affordable foundation that would have been much harder to access in the UK, where education costs are astronomical. Yet, Badenoch’s narrative erases these advantages, instead focusing on painting a one-dimensional picture of Nigeria as a land of despair.
The hypocrisy in Badenoch’s stance is especially apparent when considering Britain’s role in Nigeria’s struggles. Colonial exploitation and the forced amalgamation of diverse ethnic groups contributed to the systemic issues Nigeria faces today. Britain’s role in fostering corruption is well-documented, with Nigerian wealth often funneled through British financial institutions. By focusing exclusively on Nigeria’s internal problems, Badenoch conveniently absolves Britain of its historical and ongoing role in perpetuating these issues. Her rhetoric is aligned with a long tradition of Western propaganda against African nations, aimed at keeping former colonies subjugated.
Badenoch’s story is not unique but reflects a broader trend among some Nigerians in the diaspora. Many of these individuals, particularly those who have benefited from Nigeria’s resources, use their platforms to vilify the country that helped them succeed. These individuals, who often contribute little to Nigeria’s development, have mastered the art of criticizing the nation to gain sympathy and leverage abroad.
This culture of self-denigration is deeply ingrained in the Nigerian psyche. Decades of poor governance, corruption, and economic stagnation have created a sense of disillusionment, with many Nigerians quick to highlight the country’s flaws while dismissing its strengths. This mindset is evident in the way some Nigerians eagerly share negative news about their homeland while ignoring or downplaying the positive developments. This lack of balance has contributed to a skewed perception of Nigeria both at home and abroad.
Nigerians abroad, often in an attempt to justify their decision to leave or to gain sympathy, post exaggerated or distorted accounts of life in Nigeria. These exaggerated portrayals create a vicious cycle, where negative depictions of Nigeria dominate its global image, overshadowing the resilience, innovation, and cultural richness that also define the country.
However, this disillusionment often manifests as destructive rhetoric rather than constructive action. Nigerians must recognize that no nation is without its flaws. Corruption, inequality, and social unrest are global issues. For instance, the United States, often hailed as the pinnacle of democracy, struggles with systemic racism, corruption, and economic inequality. Yet, Americans rarely disparage their country on the global stage. Instead, they rally around a shared sense of national pride.
The critique here is not just of Kemi Badenoch but of all those who exploit Nigeria’s image for personal or political gain. These individuals participate in the degradation of their country’s reputation, not with the intention of enacting change, but rather for personal advantage. This behavior reflects a form of neo-colonialism, where one’s heritage is traded for acceptance in a system that historically marginalized that very heritage.
Nigeria, with all its flaws, has been the birthplace of many individuals who have gone on to achieve great things globally. The country’s challenges are no secret, but neither are its strengths. From its contributions to global music, literature, and sports to its vibrant entrepreneurial spirit, Nigeria has much to offer. Yet, figures like Badenoch choose to ignore these strengths in favor of a narrative that serves them momentarily, at the expense of their compatriots’ dignity.
Kemi Badenoch’s remarkable achievement in British politics—rising from a 25-year-old who joined the Conservative Party to becoming the leader of the largest political party in the UK—is an extraordinary success story. This should have been a platform to inspire young people and foster positive change in her home country of Nigeria. Instead, she has chosen to belittle Nigeria, sowing division and resentment. It is not too late for Badenoch to reassess her actions and return to a path of integrity.