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To mark Nigeria’s
five decades, we dusted down an iconic photograph. The image above
shows a handover of power – from James Robertson, the last British
Governor-General of Nigeria to Tafawa Balewa, the first Prime Minister
of Nigeria. We asked eight writers to tell us what feelings the
photograph evoked for them.

Below are their thoughts; some optimistic, some weary, and some resigned.

Sarah Ladipo Manyika, author, ‘In Dependence’

Two men are waving,
but to whom exactly? Tafawa Balewa’s hand hails the people, but what of
James Robertson? Is he waving hello, farewell, or not so fast? It’s
hard to tell, and yet the stiffness of those gloves, sash, headgear and
medals suggest a man no longer at ease. And as for those two young men
standing ramrod straight around the flagpole, what expression, I
wonder, rests on their faces? Pride, I imagine, and immense hope on a
day when a brand new flag waves prosperity and peace to all who stand
below. Half a century later, what would each of these men make of
Nigeria today? Disappointment, I would guess, at the very least, and
yet I hear that there is beauty in turning fifty and being able to look
both backward and forward. If this is the case, then I think that
today’s picture must be in colour with much less grey, fewer shadows,
many more women, and just as much hope.

Carlos Moore, author, ‘Fela: This Bitch of a Life’

The image of James
Robertson, the last British Governor-General of Nigeria and Tafawa
Balewa, the first Prime Minister of Nigeria, celebrating the birth of
what is today called NIGERIA is nothing unusual. It is an image that
says that, for all practical purposes, it is all business as usual.
Just a new arrangement of the same colonial, neo-colonial and
neo-imperial package.

Abidemi Sanusi, author, ‘Kemi’s Journal’

I am drawn to the
flag pole in the background. Has the Union Jack been lowered already,
and the flag of the new Nigeria, a phoenix of green and white stripes,
been raised in its place? It is hard to tell. The phantom army of
witnesses are a little harder to spot, their ghoulish presence a
forewarning of what is to come in the ‘new’ country. Finally, I notice
the two men; each, with one arm raised high, the white man, James
Robertson, the last British Governor-General of Nigeria and the
Nigerian, Tafawa Balewa, the first Prime Minister of Nigeria.
Robertson’s arm is raised in a wave, whether in farewell or in good
wishes, again, it is hard to tell. His face is inscrutable, no doubt
relishing the years ahead, when cocooned in his own grave, historians
would pore over every muscle of his face in the photograph for a hint
of the thoughts that lie within. He knows the photograph will reveal
nothing. I’m intrigued by Balewa’s arm. What is it saying? ‘Farewell‘,
‘Stay awhile’, ‘Now what?’ One thought keeps on reverberating through
my mind: where was the photograph taken and why the night-time?

Toni Kan, author, ‘Nights of the Creaking Bed’

Hello and Goodbye.
Two knighted fellows waving out an epoch and welcoming a new one;
albeit a benighted one. 50 years later we look at this picture and
wonder, was it too soon, were mistakes made and who made those
mistakes? 50 years of independence and yet we remain a country fraught
with ills that defy logic, balms and unguents. Who knows, maybe Sir
James Robertson was actually saying: good riddance!

Teju Cole, author, ‘Everyday is for the Thief’

“A painful
disappointment, though one must admit it was not a total failure” –
these were the words Nnamdi Azikiwe used to describe the Constitutional
Conference of 1957. The British stymied Nigerian demands for
independence by 1959. But independence did eventually come, in 1960.
Two hands raised in the darkness, a flicker of hope. The British packed
their bags and left, after poisoning the well, and Zik’s words might as
well serve for the fifty-year journey Nigeria has undertaken since
then. Things went wrong very quickly for the country once the
Okotie-Eboh model of kleptocracy supplanted the humble civil service of
Tafawa Balewa. There were utter disasters along the way, the three most
notable, in my view, being the Civil War, the Babangida dictatorship,
and the Abacha dictatorship that succeeded it. The years rolled on, and
we swallowed one missed opportunity after another. Still, there was
FESTAC. There are our great artists, particularly in literature and
music. And there is the incomparable intensity, creativity, and
resurgence of the city of Lagos. A painful disappointment, then, this
maddening Nigerian journey, but not a total failure. Not yet.

Adaobi Tricia Nwaubani, author, ‘I Do Not Come To You By Chance’

Five decades ago,
the white man waved goodbye to Nigeria. But today, Nigerians remain in
captivity. The colonialists rule our minds. We obsess over what they
think about us, we struggle to imitate their ways, we are in awe of
their abilities. As Nigeria celebrates 50 years of independence, I have
a dream that my people shall be free at last. With the white man and
his West safely out of our heads and our minds obsessing over more
progressive purposes.

Chika Unigwe, author, ‘On Black Sisters’ Street’

Whenever my father
talks of the 1st of October, 1960 his voice carries a certain sense of
awe, as if he were talking of something sacred. Looking at this
photograph, I am reminded of my father’s voice. There is a sense of the
sacred in the way both men are standing still, unsmiling, hands raised
as the clock strikes midnight to usher in the birth of a new country
and announce the irreversible death of colonisation. But there is also
a sense of excitement, of optimism. It is easy to read on Balewa’s
face, the eagerness to get on with the job of leading Nigeria to its
destined greatness as an independent nation. 50 years later, Nigerians
of my father’s generation have seen their hopes for Nigeria betrayed by
kleptomaniac regimes. And we, their children are finding it more and
more difficult to remain optimistic that things will change enough to
bring Nigeria back to its days of glory.

Amatoritsero Ede, author, ‘Globetrotter & Hitler’s Children’

The promise and
dream of that celebratory image of – I presume Tafawa Balewa, first
‘Head-of-State’ of an independent Nigeria beside the representative of
the colonial British Crown – has become a nightmare and an illusion.
The ex-colonial state (I refuse to call it post-colonial to emphasise
the continuing colonial dependence) has continued the plunders of
imperialism. As Wole Soyinka put it in a public statement recently, we
celebrate shame. It is like celebrating the death of an infant
first-born child. It is very un-African. This should be a time for
inward looking, not for pomp and pageantry. The leadership has failed
woefully. A country blessed with all the human and mineral resources
which Nigeria has should not be the failed state that it is today,
where a lack of maintenance culture, entrenched corruption in
government, criminal politicians or ex-military men vying for office is
normalised. Nigeria has taken itself out of any kind of global
competition – even on a continental level. This house has fallen! It
can only be rebuilt by a complete shift in its leadership and civic
mental orientation.

A version of this article was first published on the Cassava Republic blog.