Once upon a time, a snake accidentally fell into a pit inhabited by hundreds of rats. Realising that their collective strength could overwhelm it, the snake devised a brilliant strategy. It promised not to harm the healthy rats but to eliminate only the old, weak and sick, ostensibly for the collective good. The rats agreed. Some even became informants, identifying vulnerable members of their community for the snake. Gradually, the weak disappeared. Then the snake turned on the strong. By the time the remaining rats understood that they had been collaborators in their own destruction, their collective capacity to resist had been severely diminished.
The snake had accomplished through deception what it could never have achieved through confrontation.
Welcome to the psychology of political manipulation, the tragedy of selective solidarity, and perhaps one of the most uncomfortable metaphors for contemporary activism in Nigeria and across West Africa.
On November 5, 2026, I attended a profoundly important one-day intergenerational dialogue for activists in Abuja, convened by the Building Blocks for Peace Foundation, through the West Africa Youth Protection and Advocacy Network, with support from the Karibu Foundation and the Action Group on Free Civic Space.
The theme, 45 Years of the Adoption of the African Charter on Human and Peoples’ Rights: Strengthening Youth Activism and Protecting Civic Space in West Africa, could hardly have been more timely.
Forty-five years after the Charter’s adoption in 1981, Africa must confront a disturbing contradiction: we have become increasingly sophisticated in documenting human rights while remaining painfully inconsistent in protecting human beings.
Articles 9, 10 and 11 of the Charter protect expression, association and assembly. Yet citizens exercising these freedoms are frequently treated as inconveniences to governments that derive their legitimacy from those very citizens.
The welcome remarks by Rafiu Lawal and the opening session involving the Office of the United Nations Resident Coordinator provided an important institutional context for the conversation.
Professor Jideofor Adibe of Nasarawa State University, in his keynote on the changing civic space in West Africa, interrogated the threats confronting activism, including restrictive legislation, surveillance, repression and the need for stronger civil society coalitions and ethical accountability. His intervention raises a fundamental question: what happens when the institutions established to protect citizens become instruments through which citizens are intimidated?
Comrade Omoyele Sowore, veteran activist and journalist, and of course presidential candidate in the upcoming General Elections next year, approached intergenerational solidarity with characteristic directness, emphasising collective action rather than dependence on political saviours.
Whatever one’s ideological disagreements with Sowore, his insistence on solidarity deserves reflection. A society waiting for a courageous individual to liberate everyone else has misunderstood the architecture of liberation.
The first panel, Activism Then and Now, brought together Senator Shehu Sani (who was represented), Babatunde Oluajo, Ibukun Omole, Latifa Boubacar from Niger Republic and Ahmed Aminu, moderated by Esso Dong Kongah from Togo.
The second, Building Intergenerational Solidarity in Times of Crisis, featured Jaye Gaskia, Ene Obi, Comrade Rex of the Take It Back Movement, Romeo Vodounon from Benin Republic and Auwal Musa Rafsanjani of CISLAC (who was represented), moderated by trade unionist Hauwa Mustapha.
These conversations represented something increasingly rare: an encounter between historical memory and contemporary urgency.
Nigeria’s younger activists must understand that the struggle did not begin with hashtags. From the Aba Women’s Protest of 1929 to the Ali Must Go demonstrations of 1978, the anti-military struggles, the June 12 resistance and the eventual restoration of civilian government, generations sacrificed considerably to expand the freedoms available today.
Equally, veteran activists must recognise that experience does not confer a monopoly over wisdom. Mentorship must not become ownership. Yesterday’s revolutionaries cannot demand unquestioning obedience from today’s reformers.
The outstanding intellectual contribution of the dialogue was the launch of Understanding Contemporary Challenges of Youth Activism in West Africa through the Intergenerational Lens, authored by Rafiu Adeniran Lawal and Kola Ibrahim.
Both gentlemen deserve considerable commendation for producing a timely intervention that situates contemporary youth activism within historical, political, economic and institutional realities.
By examining movements including Nigeria’s #EndSARS and #EndBadGovernance, Senegal’s Y’en a Marre, Burkina Faso’s Balai Citoyen and Ghana’s #FixTheCountry, the authors establish the possibilities and limitations of contemporary mobilisation.
Their examination of repression, economic exclusion, organisational fragmentation, digital activism and weak intergenerational collaboration deserves attention beyond conference halls. Universities, policymakers, civil society organisations, development partners and youth movements should engage seriously with this publication.
But let me return to the rats.
Psychologically, the snake exploited fear, self-preservation, moral disengagement and the illusion of exceptionalism. Each rat believed that its proximity to power guaranteed immunity from power.
How different is this from our contemporary reality?
We defend freedom of speech until someone says something we dislike. We condemn unlawful detention until the person detained belongs to another political camp. We demand justice for members of our ethnic or religious communities while rationalising injustice against others.
Some activists become strangely economical with their principles when appointments, political access or financial opportunities arrive. They condemn yesterday’s snake while negotiating accommodation with today’s.
Indeed, not every activist who enters government has betrayed the struggle. Institutional engagement is necessary. The betrayal occurs when access becomes more important than accountability and personal advancement replaces collective transformation.
The snake does not always wear a military uniform. Sometimes it wears democratic credentials, carries progressive slogans, funds civil society or speaks the language of revolution.
Radical activism among young Nigerians must therefore move beyond the romance of resistance to the discipline of transformation. Anger is not an ideology. Outrage is not a strategy. Visibility is not influence. Trending hashtags are not structural change.
Young activists must cultivate political education, disciplined nonviolence, community organising, legal literacy, economic independence and institutional competence. They must learn to negotiate without surrendering, disagree without dehumanising, and challenge power without reproducing its abuses.
The Nigerian state must equally abandon the dangerous assumption that legitimate dissent constitutes a security threat. Peacebuilding cannot mean silencing citizens. National stability cannot sustainably rest upon intimidation.
As 2027 approaches, activists must resist becoming disposable instruments of competing political elites. We need movements capable of surviving elections, personalities, donor cycles and generational disagreements.
We must also build structures that protect activists from burnout, provide legal assistance, preserve institutional memory and defend unpopular voices. Solidarity is tested precisely when standing with another person offers no personal advantage.
Ultimately, the Abuja dialogue must become more than an anniversary conversation. It should inspire enduring regional alliances, mentorship platforms and collective mechanisms for defending civic freedoms.
The greatest tragedy of the rats was not that a snake entered their community. It was that they surrendered their collective conscience in exchange for individual assurances.
Human rights are not rewards for good behaviour, political loyalty or ideological agreement. They belong to everyone.
The pot used to cook the rat may eventually accommodate the rabbit. Those celebrating another person’s persecution should remember that the machinery of oppression rarely remains loyal to its collaborators.
When the last vulnerable rat disappears, the strongest rat becomes the weakest remaining rat.
That is the lesson.
May Nigeria and West Africa learn it before the snake finishes its meal, and may Nigeria win!
