Nigeria’s problem isn’t potential — Ejike Okpa

Ejike Edward Okpa is a Nigerian-American global analyst whose life bridges two worlds. Born in Enugu and fuelled by a teenage dream to reach America, he has spent over 35 years in the United States, leaving an indelible mark on Texas politics and civic life. In 2003, he made history as the first native African to run for mayor of a major U.S. city, just eight years after becoming a citizen.

Despite his achievements abroad, Okpa remains a fierce, unapologetic advocate for a better Nigeria. In this exclusive interview with FAITH OMOBOYE, he speaks with the precision of a man who has lived where systems work and the urgency of a patriot who insists Nigeria has no excuse not to do the same.

“True progress will come only when governance focuses on the common good: infrastructure, public health, safety, and education, not on personalities or prestige.”

Take me back to your early days in Enugu. What sparked the conviction that you’d one day make it to America?

I was born and raised in Enugu, where I went to elementary school before the civil war interrupted my studies. My father, who was both the chief of his town and later chief of the Awgu division, often bought magazines like Newsweek for me to read. One day, at 15, I became fascinated by America through those pages. Quietly, I prayed, “God, before I die, I want to go to America.”

I finished secondary school at Merchants of Light, Oba, earning Division One in my WAEC. My uncle in the US invited me over, but my father insisted I was too young at 17. He wanted me to mature, so I studied Estate Management at the University of Science and Technology, Rivers State, and completed my NYSC before trying again.

My first US visa application in Lagos was denied. The second, in Kaduna, was also shaky until my uncle DHLed the required documents. I hadn’t even opened the envelope when I presented it. The officer did examine it and then stamped my passport. “Welcome to America,” he said.

So my flight ticket was N698.50, and that ticket took me from Enugu to Lagos, London and Dallas, because back then the Naira was stronger.

That experience taught me two things: never give up after rejection, and never set deadlines for God. My prayer was simple, and in His own time, it was answered.

How would you describe your political journey in America, and what tangible impact have you made in Texas over the years?

I arrived in Dallas in 1987. The moment I stepped out at DFW Airport and felt the Texas heat, I said to myself, “This is home.” Initially, I didn’t want to become a U.S. citizen because I thought I’d return to Nigeria after a few years. But by 1995, I became a citizen, and this year marks my 30th year as one.

From early on, I made it a point to know my council members, my mayor, and everyone who represented me politically. Over the years, I’ve met almost every American president, Bush Sr, Bush Jr, Clinton, Obama, and Trump.

In 2003, just eight years after citizenship, I ran for mayor of Dallas, becoming the first native African to contest for mayor of a major U.S. city. The city initially tried to disqualify me, but I sued and won, securing my place on the ballot. Though I didn’t win the election, the Dallas Morning News wrote an editorial praising my intelligence and vision.

That moment put me on the map and challenged stereotypes about Nigerians in America. My message since then has been clear: be bold, don’t let fear define you, and never wait for permission to pursue your convictions.

You’ve spent more than 35 years in America. Comparing Nigeria today to 1987, what clear signs of progress do you see, and which problems from back then remain unresolved?

Change is constant, but what matters is improvement. When I left Nigeria, the youth service allowance was ₦200, and as an estate surveyor, I earned ₦350 with housing and transport. Compared then to now, the value of the Naira has collapsed, and the cost of living has worsened.

In infrastructure, little progress has been made. No Nigerian city has a functional water system, and electricity is still unreliable: generators are the norm. Security has also declined. Back then, few homes were fenced. Today, everyone lives behind high walls and barbed wire. I once described Nigerians as living in “mini prisons”.

Salaries and pensions remain unpaid, public safety is unresolved, and politics is still personality-driven instead of policy-driven. Projects are abandoned with each administration, leaving Abuja full of uncompleted buildings, while Lagos, one of the largest cities in the world, still lacks efficient waste management, water systems, or modern mass transit like subways.

Another shameful constant is leaders seeking medical treatment abroad. Presidents and senior officials routinely fly overseas while neglecting local hospitals. This isn’t just hypocrisy; it’s a national security risk when foreign doctors hold sensitive information on Nigerian leaders.

True progress will come only when governance focuses on the common good: infrastructure, public health, safety, and education, not on personalities or prestige.

Based on your experience with the American system and other more developed countries you’ve visited, what concrete measures can Nigeria adopt to address its own challenges?

No country is the same, but you can learn from others. What I admire about America is the way utilities, roads, power and housing are structured. If you work, your income allows you to rent or even buy a home. That’s something Nigeria must fix.

But Nigeria cannot simply copy America. The U.S. is a nation of immigrants with a short, simple constitution written in plain language. Ours reads like scripture, confusing and complicated. America’s 50 states act like independent countries with their own laws. In Nigeria, we pretend to be “one Nigeria”, but it’s more complicated. A lawyer trained in Sokoto can practise in Lagos or Enugu, yet laws should reflect regional realities.

Our police protect politicians, not citizens. Why should one senator take 50 policemen to a birthday party? If they want extra security, let them pay for it. Politicians must feel the same dangers ordinary Nigerians face.

Another problem is tribalism. In the National Assembly, you can tell who is Hausa, Yoruba, or Ijaw just by their attire. Instead of acting as servants, leaders behave like chiefs at a ceremony. Leadership should carry seriousness and sacrifice, not titles like “Your Excellency”.

Nigeria needs leaders who engage citizens directly: town halls, policy consultations, listening tours. Politics isn’t what a president wants; it’s what the people need.

What is your evaluation of the current state of Nigeria’s institutions and infrastructure?

They don’t really exist. Take electricity, for example. Nigeria’s first power station was in Ijora in 1886, 64 years before independence. America only got electricity 106 years after independence. Yet today, after 129 years of power in Nigeria, we generate just about 6,000 to 8,000 megawatts—barely enough to run a small U.S. city. The science is simple: generation, transmission, and distribution. But Nigeria hasn’t expanded its capacity to meet its people’s needs.

Water infrastructure is even more complex. In America, pipelines for water, gas, and sewers stretch for millions of miles underground. Nigeria never built such systems. Our land use patterns make it harder now; Lagos, for example, has grown without proper planning. Compare it with Hong Kong, which was planned by the same colonial governor as Lagos. Hong Kong today is sophisticated; Lagos is chaotic, trash everywhere, open gutters, no public parks left.

Institutions are weak because they revolve around individuals. Pension funds vanish, or absurd stories like a “snake swallowing money” surface. Instead of accountability, people say, “It is well.” But it isn’t going well. Courts should offer justice to ordinary Nigerians, yet cases are moved at will and rulings overturned without consistency.

Nigeria’s politics is personality-driven. Power flows from the president down, with little resistance. Institutions should outlast individuals, but in Nigeria, the individual is the institution.

Nigeria’s foreign policy has always revolved around Africa as its centrepiece. Do you think this still serves the country well, or should the focus tilt more towards Nigeria itself?

Pan-Africanism has been around since Nkrumah, but Africa is not a country; it’s over 50 states, mostly tribal, not citizen-driven. In Nigeria, people are judged by tribe or state of origin, instead of citizenship. That weakens nationhood. A Yoruba in Enugu should be able to contest for office there, that’s how citizenship works in the U.S.

The truth is, Nigeria must focus on itself first. Success is a magnet. If Nigeria builds strong policies, infrastructure, and security, neighbours like Cameroon, Niger, Chad, and Benin will naturally look up to it. Right now, even Ghana’s cedi is stronger than the naira. Why would they emulate Nigeria?

Foreigners exploit Nigeria because our leaders allow it. Lebanese, Indian, and Chinese businesses thrive here while abusing Nigerians, yet few are ever held accountable. Meanwhile, Nigerians cannot replicate such opportunities or secure contracts in their countries. They succeed because our political class enables exploitation instead of protecting citizens.

As an expert, you’ve spoken about the problems. What practical solutions would you propose?

The solutions are there; we only need the will to act. Countries copy and adapt what works elsewhere. In Texas, for instance, you cannot dig a borehole and sell water; water is a public good because without it, there’s no life. Oil can be traded, but water is essential. Nigeria must start seeing challenges as opportunities, whether in power, water, roads, or food distribution.

Infrastructure begins with defining the problem. Roads in the U.S. are structured, interstates, highways, county roads, and even “farm-to-market” roads that connect rural producers to buyers. In Nigeria, farms produce rots in Benue because there’s no way to move perishables quickly. Trains or functional roads could fix that.

Power is another example. I was recently asked to advise on a data centre in Dallas that required 50 megawatts. In Nigeria, the total capacity is only 8,000 megawatts for over 200 million people. No investor will commit without reliable power and water.

Food processing also shows the gap. A U.S. meat company processes over 100,000 chickens a week and makes more money annually than Nigeria earns from oil. Nigeria has a population but not the supporting systems.

Water remains critical. Lagos could buy water from neighbouring states, build reservoirs, trap rain in man-made lakes, and pipe it across regions. This is pure engineering. Get water right, and 70 percent of Nigeria’s public health problems disappear.