The Outspoken Diasporan Challenging Nigeria

By Bilkisu Ahmed Shekarau

When we learned that a “global political analyst” and well-known critic of Nigeria and Africa was visiting PRNigeria, curiosity took over. As interns, we immediately turned to the internet and social media to understand the man behind the reputation.

That man was Mr. Ejike Uche Okpa—better known as E.E. Okpa—a 65-year-old Nigerian-American born and raised in Enugu State. He earned his bachelor’s degree from Rivers State University of Science and Technology in Port Harcourt and later graduated from Harvard University’s Graduate School of Design in 2006. A notable figure in U.S. real estate and CEO of The Okpa Company, he has run for political office in America, contesting for mayor in 2003 and for a seat in the U.S. Congress in Texas’s 32nd District in 2022. Today, he resides in Dallas, Texas.

While most of his television interviews focus on global politics—from the West to the Middle East—his social media posts are often sharply critical of the Black race, Africa, and especially Nigeria. His words can be unsparing when addressing what he sees as the failures of leadership and the complacency of citizens.

When Mr. Okpa walked into PRNigeria Centre in Abuja, we expected a fiery encounter. Instead, after an introduction by fellow intern Khadijah Muhammad Lawan, we met a man who—while firm in his convictions—spoke with deliberate persuasion. Perhaps because we were young, he tempered his tone, without diluting his message.

Okpa stressed that his criticism stems from hope. “Be critical without criticizing,” he told us—a principle he believes is vital for progress. His vision for Nigeria is shaped by decades in the United States, and he frequently draws comparisons.

He recalled the colonial-era Nigerians who travelled abroad to acquire knowledge and returned to liberate their people—figures like Anthony Enahoro and Herbert Macaulay. Today’s mass migration, popularly called “Japa,” he lamented, is different: “Now they leave to stay.” With scarce jobs, unreliable electricity, and limited opportunities, he argued, Nigeria offers little incentive for its youth to return.

Drawing from his American experience, Okpa explained the U.S. federal system, where each state functions like a small nation, complete with its own police, laws, and governance. Such a system, he warned, could not be replicated wholesale in Nigeria without risking fragmentation. Before independence, he reminded us, Nigerians were united in the struggle against colonialism, not divided along regional and ethnic lines as they are today.

On culture, Okpa recognised the importance of preserving traditions, but argued that exposure to other ways of life broadens understanding. While he admires America’s freedoms, he acknowledged that not every U.S. policy fits Nigeria’s context. He cited, for example, Western advocacy for LGBTQ rights—an idea he believes is incompatible with Nigeria’s cultural and religious values.

His prescriptions for change are summed up in what he calls the “PIKE Factor”—People, Information, Knowledge, and Exposure. People, he says, are the foundation; information empowers; knowledge must be practical; and exposure helps us see how others succeed. For him, Nigeria’s challenge is not lack of capacity but poor organisation and weak implementation.

He also called for greater youth participation in politics, but cautioned that change will not be easy. “If the past could not deliver the revolution we needed, it will be difficult for youths to undo decades of mistakes,” he warned. Still, he believes it must start somewhere—with someone willing to challenge the status quo.

Okpa is not without critics. Some see his sharp comparisons between Nigeria and America as overly romantic about the West and dismissive of Nigeria’s complexities. Yet, even in disagreement, it is difficult to deny the urgency in his message. He forces uncomfortable conversations, and in a country where blind loyalty is often mistaken for patriotism, such conversations are necessary.

He contrasted Nigeria’s slow pace in providing basic services with America’s long, imperfect history of nation-building. “America didn’t start perfect,” he said. “It took over a century after independence to get electricity nationwide. Nigeria got electricity in 1896—64 years before independence. The problem isn’t capacity—it’s organisation.”

His emphasis on self-accountability struck me most. To him, national reform is not just about presidents or governors, but about ordinary citizens demanding more from themselves and their communities. “Leadership convinces you why you should do something,” he said. “Authority just tells you what to do.”

As our discussion ended, I realised Okpa is more than a critic. He is a provocateur in the best sense—someone who unsettles complacency. His style is blunt, sometimes abrasive, but beneath the sharpness is a desire for a better Nigeria. He does not romanticise the past or excuse the present. Instead, he demands a future built on truth, accountability, and structural reform.

Nigeria may have its shortcomings, but Okpa insists that loyalty to one’s country—especially from the diaspora—should involve advocating for change, not defending failure. He believes that the “Japa” generation can still be part of the solution, if the country gives them a reason to stay or return.

As he left, one phrase lingered in my mind: “Be critical without criticizing.” It is a fine line, but perhaps walking it is the kind of discipline Nigeria needs from its citizens, both at home and abroad.

Bilkisu Ahmed Shekarau is a PRNigeria intern in Abuja.