By Tajudeen Ishola, UK
In the ever-shifting landscape of British politics, a new figure has emerged, her voice cutting through the tumultuous winds of change like a lighthouse piercing a storm. Kemi Badenoch, once a rising star, now stands tall as the first Black leader of the UK-wide Conservative Party, achieving a historic milestone by defeating former immigration minister Robert Jenrick with 57 percent of the party members’ votes.
With this triumph, she replaces Rishi Sunak, who resigned following his party’s defeat to Labour’s Keir Starmer in the July general election. The victory bells chimed on Saturday, November 2nd, 2024, ushering in a new era filled with both promise and paradox, as Badenoch navigates the tricky waters of identity, ideology, and allegiance.
A Dual Legacy: Between Lagos and London
Badenoch’s story is, in many ways, a modern-day odyssey of migration, ambition, and cultural hybridity. Born in London to Nigerian parents, she spent her formative years in Lagos before returning to the UK at 16, driven not by dreams of grandeur, but by the harsh necessity of escaping Nigeria’s faltering economy.
Like a young bird seeking shelter from an oncoming storm, she found herself in the unfamiliar yet fertile grounds of London, living with her mother’s friend—an arrangement that set her on a path to Westminster’s highest echelons.
Much like a tree with roots in two soils, Badenoch embodies the essence of the diaspora experience: the challenge of balancing multiple identities while thriving in a foreign land. Her journey mirrors that of countless Nigerians who have migrated in search of better opportunities, rising above adversity with grit and perseverance. For some, her ascent is a beacon of pride—a testament to their resilience. Yet, for others, her controversial political positions, particularly on colonial history and racial discourse, have sown seeds of skepticism, causing murmurs of dissent to ripple through her community.
The Pragmatist in Power: Defying Expectations
Unlike the firebrands who wield history like a hammer, Badenoch’s approach to politics is more akin to a surgeon’s scalpel than a sledgehammer. She has often challenged the conventional narrative expected of Black leaders in the West.
Where others see the shadows of colonialism and systemic racism as inescapable legacies, Badenoch sees a different horizon—one where opportunity and meritocracy matter more than historical grievances.
In her rise to the Conservative Party’s leadership, Badenoch has become the face of a “pragmatic patriotism,” much to the dismay of those who expected her to carry the torch of anti-colonial rhetoric. Critics have branded her the “Black face of a white party,” accusing her of aligning with policies and ideologies that seem dismissive of Britain’s imperial past. Her assertion that the UK’s wealth was “not derived from slavery” sparked outrage, especially among those who argue that Britain’s colonial exploits were pivotal in its ascent to global dominance.
But in a world where political correctness often echoes like a hollow drum, Badenoch’s bluntness is both a sword and a shield. Her refusal to dwell on historical injustices resonates with many Nigerians, who, facing the relentless grind of economic challenges, prefer focusing on present realities rather than past wounds. “There is no room for victimhood,” she seems to say—a sentiment that some interpret as strength, while others see as denial.
The Uncomfortable Truths of Colonial Wealth
The controversy surrounding Badenoch’s remarks on colonialism is more than a mere clash of opinions; it represents a confrontation between memory and modernity, a collision of past and present—like the crashing of waves against an ancient cliff.
To dismiss the links between Britain’s wealth and its colonial past is akin to ignoring the roots of an ancient oak tree while admiring its towering branches. Badenoch’s birthplace, Wimbledon, holds echoes of a darker history—one that reverberates through the ages.
One of Wimbledon’s oldest residences, the Old Rectory, was home to William Cecil, a close advisor to Queen Elizabeth I and a significant figure in Britain’s early participation in the transatlantic slave trade. Cecil played a pivotal role in persuading Elizabeth I to authorise the first British ships to transport enslaved Africans. The Jesus of Lubeck, captained by John Hawkins, was among the first British ships to engage in this human trafficking.
These early expeditions laid the groundwork for centuries of exploitation, enriching Britain at the expense of millions of African lives. To ignore such foundational history is like admiring a castle’s grandeur while turning a blind eye to the bloodstained stones that form its foundation. The opulent estates, lavish townhouses, and bustling factories across Britain were built on the broken backs of enslaved Africans. As historian Victoria Perry aptly put it in her book Bittersweet Heritage, the grandeur of British society is deeply entwined with the shadows of slavery. The mills of Lancashire spun cotton picked by enslaved hands, and the sugar swirling through English tea cups came from plantations soaked in blood.
Acknowledging this is not about apportioning blame but about understanding the bitter roots of a sweet success. Yet, Badenoch’s approach reflects a pragmatic stance: “dwelling on the past will not fix today’s problems.” It is a belief that resonates with Nigerians who face immediate challenges rather than historical reparations. However, it also distances her from those who believe confronting historical injustices is a prerequisite for genuine progress.
A Leader, But Whose Leader?
Despite the fanfare surrounding her leadership victory, Badenoch’s relationship with the Nigerian diaspora remains complicated. Abike Dabiri-Erewa, chair of the Nigerians in Diaspora Commission (NiDCOM), recently lamented that Badenoch has not responded to attempts to reach her. Similarly, leaders of the Central Association of Nigerians in the UK (CANUK) voiced disappointment at her perceived reluctance to engage with the community.
This silence has fueled the perception that she may be distancing herself from her Nigerian heritage, creating whispers of betrayal among her kin. While some view her rise as a triumph of Nigerian resilience, others see it as a cautionary tale of assimilation, one that demands the sacrifice of identity. The allegation that she has turned her back on her roots, choosing instead to align with a predominantly white political establishment, reflects a broader Nigerian dilemma: the struggle between embracing one’s heritage and succeeding in a system that often demands conformity.
The Nigerian Dilemma: Criticism or Constructive Change?
In a world where patriotism often clangs like empty cymbals, Nigerians face a unique conundrum. While citizens of other countries rally to defend their homelands, Nigerians are often the loudest critics of their own nation. This relentless self-scrutiny, rooted in colonial legacies and global stereotypes, manifests in everything from politics to pop culture. From supporting European football teams over local leagues to favouring Western fashions, the Nigerian psyche grapples with an inferiority complex that remains hard to shake.
Yet, in rejecting their heritage, Nigerians also risk eroding their self-respect. As Badenoch’s story shows, success in the West is often contingent on embracing the dominant culture, even at the cost of one’s roots. But the price of losing self-respect is steep. Criticism of Nigeria’s corruption and dysfunction is warranted, but it should be wielded like a surgeon’s scalpel, not a bludgeon—aimed at healing, not destruction.
Reclaiming the Narrative
The rise of Kemi Badenoch offers a mirror to both Britain and Nigeria. For Britain, her leadership is a chance to confront its colonial past, not with guilt, but with candour. For Nigerians, it is a reminder that success abroad does not require disowning one’s heritage.
“Patriotism,” as George Bernard Shaw once said, “is believing that your country is superior to all others because you were born in it.” But true patriotism lies not in blind pride, but in the willingness to confront flaws and build a better future.
As Nigerians, the challenge lies in reclaiming our narrative without succumbing to the seductive siren call of Western validation. It is about embracing the beauty and complexity of our heritage while demanding the change we wish to see.
Kemi Badenoch’s ascent may be a double-edged sword, but it also serves as a call to arms: to engage with our history, redefine our identity, and chart a course toward a future that is not shackled by the past but informed by it.
Mr Tajudeen can be reached via Yomiblakes@gmail.com
