THIS WEEK

Beyond citizenship: when does a country become a nation?

This week, world leaders are gathering in New York for the 81st United Nations General Assembly. Presidents and prime ministers will speak in the names of their countries, defend national interests and make their cases before the world. The theme of this year’s General Debate, which begins on September 22, is particularly striking: “Restoring Trust, Managing Transformation: A United Nations That Delivers for All.”

Watching this annual gathering has made me think about a deceptively simple question: When does a country actually become a nation?

The United Nations can admit a state to membership. A constitution can define citizenship. A passport can establish nationality. Borders can tell us where one country ends and another begins. But none of these automatically creates nationhood

Nationhood must be built.

This question is particularly important for Africa. Many of our modern borders emerged from colonial arrangements that brought diverse peoples, languages, cultures and pre-existing political communities within common territories. Independence gave us sovereign states, flags, constitutions and national anthems. But independence could not automatically manufacture the deeper sense of belonging that makes people see one another as participants in a shared destiny.

As a Nigerian, this question comes home quickly. I am Nigerian, but I also belong to a family, community, ethnic group, region and other social identities. There is nothing inherently wrong with these layers of belonging. Diversity is not the enemy of nationhood. The real test comes when these identities compete.

When I say “we,” whom exactly do I mean?

Nationhood is relatively easy when the Super Eagles are playing. Suddenly, Nigerians who disagree about almost everything are celebrating the same goal and carrying the same flag. For those moments, “we” becomes wonderfully uncomplicated.

But football is not the true test of nationhood.

The real test comes when public resources are distributed, appointments are made, elections are contested, opportunities are allocated or justice must be applied to someone from “our side”. What happens when what is fair does not favor my ethnic group, religion, region, political interest or social circle? Can I still defend it?

I call this the Nationhood Test – what happens when personal or group interest collides with the common good? Which one wins?

Nationhood becomes meaningful when belonging demands responsibility. It requires citizens to recognize that people they may never meet have legitimate claims to the same country, institutions, opportunities and justice that they want for themselves.

But responsibility cannot belong to citizens alone. Nationhood is reciprocal.

Why should people feel deeply connected to a nation whose institutions repeatedly make them feel excluded? Why should citizens protect systems they believe do not protect them? Governments cannot demand patriotism while tolerating injustice, unequal opportunity or selective application of the law. Every time an institution treats citizens differently because of who they are, whom they know or where they come from, it does more than weaken governance. It weakens nationhood.

This is why building nations requires more than asking people to unite. People need something around which to unite. Nationhood needs a shared purpose: a credible idea of what we are trying to become together.

At OPTIMISE Africa, I often examine development through People, Purpose and Performance. Nationhood sits naturally at their intersection. People must see one another as legitimate partners in the national project. Purpose must provide a future worth building together. And performance must make citizenship meaningful through institutions that work, opportunities that expand and systems that treat people fairly.

The UNGA conversation makes this even more compelling. Africa, home to 54 UN member states, continues to press for greater influence in global governance, including reform of the Security Council and the international financial architecture. Those demands matter. Africa deserves meaningful representation in decisions that affect its people and future.

But as African leaders make the case for a stronger African voice abroad, perhaps another conversation must happen at home: How strong is the “we” on whose behalf our nations speak?

Global representation matters. Sovereignty matters. International respect matters. But the strength with which a nation speaks abroad must ultimately rest on the nation it has built at home.

And this is not a call for sameness. Nigeria does not become stronger by making its peoples less Igbo, Hausa, Yoruba, Tiv, Ijaw, Fulani or any of the identities that enrich it. The maturity of nationhood is demonstrated when our differences no longer prevent us from protecting what belongs to all of us.

Perhaps, then, the strength of a nation can partly be measured by the size of its “we.”

If “we” means only people who look like me, worship like me, speak my language, vote like me or come from where I come from, nationhood remains fragile. When “we” expands sufficiently to accommodate people different from us, citizenship begins to become belonging.

Africa inherited many of its borders. We cannot inherit nationhood.

Every generation must build it through the choices citizens make, the values leaders model, the fairness institutions demonstrate and the future we agree is worth pursuing together.

Perhaps that is when a country truly becomes a nation: when enough of us can say, “This belongs to all of us, and I have a responsibility to leave it stronger than I found it.”

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“Optimize! Africa” is a weekly leadership column focused on the issues that shape Africa’s future through the lens of people, purpose, and performance. It explores themes such as leadership, workforce optimization, education, employability, organizational culture, governance, productivity, institutional effectiveness, and human capital development across the continent. The column’s initiator/author is Amara C. Ezediniru, Ph.D., a Nigerian workforce optimization strategist.