By Emameh Gabriel
There is an old tale from a village where a bridge had collapsed. For years, the people waded through the treacherous river, cursing the lazy hands that refused to rebuild it. Then came a man with a plan, not for a mere footpath, but a mighty bridge of stone, wide enough to carry generations. When he laid the first pillar, the villagers gathered not to praise him, but to mock him. “One pillar out of a hundred?” they sneered. “What use is this?”
Such is the fate of those who dare to build in the face of perpetual scoffers. The Lagos-Calabar Coastal Highway, a 750 kilometre artery of commerce, connection, and progress, saw its first 30 kilometres commissioned yesterday by President Bola Ahmed Tinubu. It is the foundation stone of what will become a monument to national transformation. Yet rather than commend the breaking of inertia, critics have sharpened their tongues, as if expecting the entire road to sprout overnight like some magic beanstalk.
Too many Nigerians have become merchants of impatience. They want roads without construction, progress without process, miracles without time. They are like the farmer who uproots his yam shoot after a week, grumbling that it has not yet fed the village. They forget that even the great River Niger did not carve its path in a day. The Pharaohs who built the pyramids did not finish between sunrise and sunset. Dubai’s towers did not pierce the clouds in a day, nor were China’s highways woven into existence by a wizard’s wand. They were built one block, one mile at a time, until even the sands bowed in reverence. Development is a marathon, yet we have become a people who sprint at the starting gun only to collapse before the first mile.
But the cynic is a peculiar creature, the one who does nothing himself, yet expects miracles from others. Had this road not been initiated, he would be wailing, “Why has nothing been done?” Now that work has begun, he sneers, “Why are they talking about the progress made so far?” His satisfaction not in the progress, but in perpetual whining.
History remembers builders, not hecklers. The Lagos-Calabar Highway is no mere road; it is an economic lifeline. When completed, it will unlock billions in trade, connect forgotten paths, and breathe life into coastal towns left parched by neglect. It will create jobs, not just in its construction, but in the markets, hotels, and industries that will sprout along its path like mushrooms after the rains. Still, some would rather play the critic than acknowledge the harvest to come.
Let me say it again: this highway will bring jobs, not just in the laying of tarmac, but in the businesses it births along its route. It will ease the movement of goods, slashing the costs that inflate prices in our markets. It will open remote areas to investment, turning wastelands into wealthlands. These are not fantasies; they are the proven fruits of infrastructure, seen all over the world, including Nigeria.
There is a certain hypocrisy in those who shout “Do something!” and then, when something is done, sneer “Not like this!” These are the same voices that, had the project not begun, would be wailing about government inaction. They are like the man who curses the rain for falling, then curses the sun for shining too harshly, never satisfied, always complaining.
For some, politics is not about progress, it is about perpetual grievance. A road is never just a road; it is merely a prop in their theatre of outrage. A policy is judged not by its merit, but by which party announced it. This is not patriotism, it is pettiness. A nation cannot thrive when every achievement is met with partisan scorn.
Nigeria must grow up. We must learn to appreciate beginnings, not just endpoints. The farmer who plants a seed does not uproot it the next day, shouting “Where is the fruit?” He waters it. He tends it. He waits, because he knows that growth takes time.
President Tinubu’s government is laying the foundation for a highway that will outlive this generation and the next. The words of critics will evaporate like morning dew, forgotten by noon. But the road will remain, carrying the hopes of millions yet unborn.
Nigeria must stop turning every project into a political football. Must we fight over roads, rails, and bridges as if they belong to a party rather than the people? Must we scorn progress simply because it was not our tribe or side that initiated it? This is not how great nations are built.
Let us learn to applaud the first 30 kilometres, knowing they are the prelude to 750. Let us encourage rather than undermine, support rather than sabotage. If we must criticise, let it be constructive, not the empty barbs of those who contribute nothing but noise.
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