At 77, I Give Thanks: A Birthday Reflection on Life, Leadership and the Unfinished Work of Nationhood
A reflective birthday essay celebrating Prof. Iyorwuese Hagher at 77, his life of scholarship, public service, theatre, diplomacy, leadership, and hope for Nigeria.
NATIONHOODLIFEGENERAL
Professor Iyorwuese Hagher
6/27/20266 min read
A Birthday Is Not Merely a Date
On the 25th of June 2026, I marked another birthday. I did not receive the day merely as a personal anniversary. I received it as a summons to gratitude, memory, humility, and renewed responsibility.
At 77, one no longer counts birthdays only by candles, cakes, photographs, greetings, or ceremonies. One counts them by grace. One counts them by the faces of people one has encountered, the wounds one has witnessed, the mistakes one has survived, the truths one has learned, and the small mercies by which God continues to preserve life.
I was born on 25 June 1949 in Kasar, Katsina-Ala, in what is today Benue State. That simple beginning remains one of the greatest gifts of my life. The village is never a small place when it produces dreams large enough to travel the world. The child who grows from the dust of his ancestral home into classrooms, theatres, parliaments, ministries, embassies, books, and platforms of public thought must never forget the soil that first received his feet.
This birthday, therefore, is not about self-congratulation. It is about remembrance. It is about saying, with a sober heart, that life is a loan. Every year added to a human life is not an award for superiority. It is a trust.
The Burden and Beauty of a Long Journey
When I look back, I see many roads. I see the road of scholarship. I see the road of theatre. I see the road of politics. I see the road of diplomacy. I see the road of writing. I see the road of leadership mentoring. I see also the road of pain, disappointment, national anxiety, and continuing hope.
My life has taken me through the university as teacher and researcher; through the theatre as playwright, poet and cultural worker; through the Senate as a representative voice; through government as minister; through diplomacy as ambassador and high commissioner; and through the African Leadership Institute as a continuing student and servant of leadership transformation.
But the meaning of these journeys is not in the titles. Titles are like garments. They may dignify the body for a season, but they do not clothe the soul forever. The true question is not: What office did a man occupy? The true question is: What values did he carry into that office, and what did he leave behind when he departed?
I have always believed that knowledge must serve society. Art must awaken conscience. Leadership must lift people. Politics must not become a marketplace of selfish appetite. Public service must be a covenant with the vulnerable. A nation is not built by noise. A nation is built by disciplined imagination, truthful leadership, moral courage, and institutions that protect the weak from the arrogance of the strong.
Theatre as a Mirror of Society
Many have known me as a theatre scholar and practitioner. To some, theatre is entertainment. To me, theatre is much more. Theatre is a mirror. Theatre is memory. Theatre is prophecy. Theatre is the public square where a people meet themselves, laugh at themselves, confront themselves, and, when grace allows, correct themselves.
My work in Theatre for Development and in the study of indigenous forms such as Kwagh-hir has taught me that African communities have never lacked wisdom. They have only too often been denied the dignity of their own knowledge systems. Our people sang philosophy. They danced memory. They dramatized justice. They used masquerade, puppetry, satire, proverb, music, and communal performance to interrogate power and teach the young.
This is why culture must never be treated as decoration. Culture is architecture. It is the invisible house inside which a people live. When culture decays, leadership becomes empty. When memory is destroyed, young people become strangers to themselves. When art is silenced, tyranny becomes bold.
Nigeria needs roads, bridges, hospitals, schools, electricity and jobs. But Nigeria also needs moral imagination. A society without moral imagination may build monuments and still destroy its citizens.
A Birthday in a Troubled Nation
How does one celebrate a birthday in a nation where so many are still afraid? How does one eat in comfort when communities are displaced, farms are abandoned, young people are unemployed, families are hungry, and citizens are beginning to lose faith in the promises of democracy?
This is the burden of conscience. A birthday must not make us blind to suffering. If God gives us life, He does not give it for vanity. He gives it so that our remaining breath may become useful to others.
I think of Benue. I think of Nigeria. I think of Africa. I think of the young people who are brilliant but stranded. I think of the old who served faithfully but now live without dignity. I think of teachers who are poorly rewarded, farmers who are unsafe, students who are uncertain, and communities that have known too much grief.
Yet I refuse despair. Despair is a luxury that oppressed people cannot afford. Hope is not foolish optimism. Hope is work. Hope is discipline. Hope is the decision to continue planting even when the clouds look hostile.
At 77, I still believe Nigeria can rise. But Nigeria will not rise by slogans. Nigeria will rise when truth becomes more valuable than propaganda, when competence becomes more important than loyalty to faction, when public office becomes service rather than conquest, when education becomes liberation rather than certificate collection, and when leadership becomes sacrifice rather than entitlement.
Gratitude to Family, Friends and Fellow Travellers
On this birthday, I give thanks for family. Family is the first republic of love. It teaches us patience, forgiveness, duty, and belonging. I give thanks for friends, colleagues, students, readers, artists, political associates, critics, and fellow travellers who have made the journey meaningful.
I give thanks for those who have agreed with me, and also for those who have disagreed with me honestly. Honest disagreement is a form of respect. It sharpens thought and saves society from intellectual laziness.
I give thanks for my teachers, living and departed. I give thanks for the communities that shaped me. I give thanks for the theatre people, the writers, the scholars, the diplomats, the politicians of conscience, the activists for justice, the ordinary citizens whose silent endurance continues to humble me.
No human being is self-made. We are all assembled from the sacrifices of others. Behind every visible achievement are invisible hands. Behind every public life are private prayers. Behind every book are conversations, wounds, memories, research, discipline, doubt, and grace.
The Lessons of 77 Years
If age has taught me anything, it is that humility is wisdom. Arrogance is poverty of the soul. A leader who cannot listen is already failing. A scholar who cannot learn is already empty. A nation that refuses truth is already in danger.
Life has also taught me that service is the only durable monument. Wealth may vanish. Office may end. Applause may fade. But the life poured into others continues to speak.
At 77, I do not ask only how long I have lived. I ask how well I have served. I ask whether my words have healed or wounded, whether my writings have enlightened or merely impressed, whether my public service has helped or failed the people, whether my generation has done enough for those coming behind.
And here, honesty compels me to say: we must do more. My generation must continue to account for its stewardship. We inherited a nation full of promise. We must not leave behind a nation full of excuses.
The Work Ahead
Birthdays are not only for looking backward. They are also for looking forward. There are still books to write, young minds to mentor, truths to tell, institutions to strengthen, and bridges to build between memory and the future.
I remain convinced that Africa’s renewal will come through enlightened leadership, ethical citizenship, cultural confidence, and creative education. We must train a new generation that can think, create, serve, and lead without surrendering its soul to greed.
The future belongs to those who understand that ideas are stronger than weapons, that culture is stronger than imitation, that truth is stronger than manipulation, and that leadership without character is organized danger.
My Birthday Prayer
My prayer on this 77th birthday is simple.
May God make my remaining years useful.
May He give me the humility to keep learning, the courage to keep speaking, the discipline to keep writing, and the compassion to keep serving.
May Benue find peace. May Nigeria find truth. May Africa find confidence. May our young people find purpose. May our leaders find conscience. May our communities find healing.
And may every birthday remind us that life is not measured only by how long we stay on earth, but by how much light we leave behind.
For all who remembered me on the 25th of June 2026, I say thank you. Your love, prayers, messages, and goodwill are not taken lightly. They are received with gratitude, humility, and renewed commitment.
We are all travellers under God’s mercy. Let us walk gently. Let us speak truthfully. Let us serve faithfully. Let us build courageously.
And let us never forget that the greatest birthday gift any human being can give back to the world is a life lived in service of others.
