“I Pass My Neighbour”: The Mindset Sabotaging Nigeria’s Growth

Across Africa and especially in Nigeria, a corrosive mindset has been allowed to spread unchecked. It carries a friendly nickname. Locally, it is called “I pass my neighbour.” It once described a small generator people used during blackouts. Today, it captures a deeper national problem. It is the quiet belief that personal advancement matters more than collective progress. It is the idea that as long as I am comfortable, your discomfort is irrelevant.

This is not a cultural quirk. It is a strategic threat, its hurting governance and eroding trust. It is shaping our security crisis and even the behaviour of Nigerians outside the country.

The Anatomy of a Mindset

“I pass my neighbour” is competitive individualism without collective purpose and it’s visible everywhere. The student wants to outshine peers rather than uplift them. The politician fights to win at all costs rather than lead with intention. The civil servant prioritizes personal comfort while institutions crumble. Progress is defined by comparison, not impact. It is a mindset that rewards outshining instead of building.

From Generators to Governance

The metaphor is literal. When the national grid collapses, citizens invest in their own generators instead of demanding a functional system. Wealthier individuals buy silent units. Others settle for noisy versions. Each home lights up alone while the wider community stays dark. This scene explains Nigeria’s governance model. Private fixes replace public solutions. Politicians chase quick wins, citizens fend for themselves and institutions decay while the country applauds individuals for managing their own survival.

The Death of Camaraderie

Nigeria once ran on community strength. Families supported one another, neighbours took responsibility for each other’s children and strangers stood together in crisis. That spirit is fading. Success has become theatrical rather than purposeful. Wealth is displayed instead of shared and influence is used to protect personal gain rather than drive public progress. Even activism is fragmented. Some demand reform while others mount counter-protests to defend their benefactors. Trust has weakened and empathy has been replaced by envy.

Banditry Crisis and the Geography of False Superiority

The same mindset fuels the insecurity crisis. When banditry and kidnapping first erupted in the northwest, many Nigerians treated it as a distant problem. Some even believed it was evidence of regional failure. There was a quiet sense of superiority. As long as it was “their problem,” others relaxed. That complacency created operational space for criminals to grow. Security threats do not remain local. They scale, they move and exploit national weakness. Now every region is entangled in the same crisis that people once dismissed.

That early response mirrored the “I pass my neighbour” mentality. Instead of demanding strategic action when the crisis was contained in one zone, the rest of the country assumed their comfort was guaranteed. Today, no region is insulated. Every major highway, farm, community and school lives under threat. This is the cost of ignoring someone else’s pain.

The Export Version of the Syndrome

This mindset did not remain within Nigeria’s borders. We have carried it abroad. A recent example came from the United Kingdom. When immigration rules were tightened months ago, the change targeted people who were not yet on skilled worker visas. The reaction from Nigerians was muted. Many felt they were unaffected, believed they had secured an advantage and that they were better positioned. That comfort did not last.

The new proposal now touches people who arrived during the Boris period. It even impacts those with indefinite leave to remain. Suddenly, the outrage is loud. People are calling for unity only because the pressure has reached them. This is the same pattern. When a neighbour is affected, silence. When the same threat expands and draws close, noise.

We have exported the mentality to our foreign residences. It is visible in the lack of solidarity among diasporan communities, in fragmented advocacy and in the inconsistent public response depending on who feels safe and who feels targeted.

Counter Protests and the Fear of Equality

Every attempt at reform attracts counterprotests. The reasons are rarely ideological. People resist change because they fear equality may remove their perceived advantage. “Our person is in power,” they say. They defend broken systems that give them temporary comfort. It is the same formula. I would rather everyone stay down if i feel i am slightly up. This mindset collapses reforms before they mature, stalls progress and turns every national conversation into a struggle for personal survival rather than collective transformation.

Breaking the Cycle

A country cannot thrive on isolated comfort. Development demands strong systems, not individual improvisation. Nigeria needs a cultural reset, where leaders must model service rather than entitlement and citizens must shift from self-preservation to shared responsibility. Communities must reward collaboration instead of comparison. A nation that celebrates personal advantage at the cost of collective failure will never reach scale.

True progress begins when your neighbour’s success strengthens you instead of threatening you.

Final Thoughts

“I pass my neighbour” started as a survival tactic. It has become the blueprint for stagnation. It shapes our politics, economy, insecurity and our diaspora behaviour. Nigeria cannot unlock its future with a mindset that only cares when the fire spreads to its own doorstep.

A country rises together or collapses together. For too long, we pretended we were exceptions to one another’s problems. That illusion has expired. The path forward demands shared urgency, shared responsibility and shared progress.