By Frank Meke
The security concerns that triggered the last-minute cancellation of the National Festival of Arts and Culture (NAFEST) scheduled for Enugu last Saturday amount to a damning verdict on Nigeria’s cultural tourism potential.
The decision—linked to the kidnapping of schoolchildren in Kebbi and the killing of a top military officer in Borno—was hasty, poorly managed, and projected Nigeria as a weak nation overwhelmed by fear. Instead of inspiring confidence, it plunged the national mood into pity, despair, and global mockery.
On Friday, U.S. President Donald Trump once again criticised Nigeria’s political and military response to insurgency in the North, dragging our national image further into ridicule. That same day, Canada advised its citizens to steer clear of Nigeria, and the British High Commission echoed similar concerns. Travel advisories are not new, but what is new—and troubling—is how our own careless reactions are selling us out as a nation incapable of securing its borders.
The NAFEST cancellation exposed the widening knowledge gap between our security agencies, the Ministry of Culture and Tourism, and private-sector tourism stakeholders. At a time when global development metrics are closely tied to perception, sensitivity, and economic implications, our handling of this crisis was amateurish and emotionally driven.
Rather than respond swiftly and strategically—especially in rescuing the kidnapped children and confronting the attackers—we allowed fear and political correctness to dictate the national mood. This weakened our global standing and sabotaged our destination safety ratings at a time when we could have demonstrated resilience and leadership.
Consider Biblical David. After the attack on Ziklag, where families were kidnapped and property looted, David refused to let grief govern his judgment. While his men were overwhelmed by despair, he acted decisively, embarking on an immediate rescue mission. He recovered the captives, defeated the enemy, restored the people’s hope, and reclaimed economic treasures from the attackers. David confronted the threat head-on; he did not sit helplessly, waiting to be comforted—or to explain away his fears.
Sadly, today’s leadership in Nigeria’s culture and tourism sector lacks such capacity. The ministry has been reduced to a ceremonial outfit, deprived of funds, vision, and strategic direction. Eleven revenue-generating agencies under the ministry are starved of support, leaving their heads wasting precious time on courtesy visits and meaningless memoranda of understanding—while the sector gasps for air.
The consequences of the NAFEST fiasco are enormous. At a time when global narratives move at the speed of social media, the damage to Nigeria’s cultural tourism brand is immediate and severe. Years of progress in positioning NAFEST as a unifying national platform have been eroded, and Enugu—despite its stability, hospitality, and economic renaissance—has been inadvertently painted as a security flashpoint.
Worse still, the “mood of the nation” has now become a global alibi for portraying Nigeria as unsafe for travel, festivals, and family holiday traffic. If the kidnapped girls in Kebbi and Niger States are not rescued swiftly, the same logic used to cancel NAFEST may soon threaten Lagos’ Detty December and several other key cultural events.
Our private-sector stakeholders have gone silent—lost in courtesy calls and praise-singing—while the industry sinks. Tourism, once envisioned as a driver of economic growth, now resembles a graveyard where Nigeria’s cultural brilliance, culinary heritage, and hospitality strengths are buried by thoughtless decisions.
The “mood of the nation” has now become ammunition for asylum seekers and Japa hopefuls. Outbound traffic will surge, foreign exchange earnings will fall, and inbound tourism during Christmas may plummet drastically.
Yet, despite this bleak reality, I remain convinced that Nigeria’s cultural tourism economy can rebound. Nigerians are resilient. But resilience without strategy is stagnation. To be taken seriously on the global stage, we must rethink our responses, strengthen our institutions, and confront our security challenges courageously and intelligently.
Challenges are inevitable—but how we respond will determine whether we rise above them or remain prisoners of our own fears.
