Nigeria has a problem we all live with without even noticing. The people we elect to speak for us vanish the moment they take office. They collect salaries. They sign papers. They nod at the wrong things. Then they disappear into Abuja like smoke. Ask the average Nigerian who their Senator is and watch the face. First confusion. Then the long pause. Then that small embarrassed laugh we use to cover the reality that we have been abandoned for years. Representation in this country has become invisible. Untouchable. Forgettable.
Read Also: 16 years after Christmas Day suicide bombing attemp, Nigerian official tells the story
Until someone like Natasha walks into the room.
There is something strange about Nigerian politics. Not the type you read in thrillers. The type you see every day. The mystery of the missing Senator. The elected figure who disappears once the oath is taken. The voice that never speaks. The face that never appears. The human being who becomes a rumour.
Ask a Nigerian to name their Senator. Silence will fall like night. Some will search their minds. Some will stare blankly. Most have stopped expecting anything from the people they sent to Abuja. Representation here has become something you do not feel. Something you cannot point to. Something that exists only on paper.
That silence has grown into a quiet national shame. It hides inside the jokes we crack about our leaders. It shows up every time someone asks a simple political question and the answer is emptiness. Who is your Senator. And the room goes dull. No one knows. No one remembers. No one even bothers to pretend again.
This is the true tragedy of Nigerian democracy. Not the loud scandals. Not the shouting on television. The real tragedy is the emptiness. Millions of Nigerians have Senators who might as well be ghosts. Names with no presence. Offices with no work. Leaders who have mastered the art of existing without impact.
Then someone like Natasha appears and suddenly the entire country remembers what leadership is meant to feel like. She steps in and the atmosphere changes. She works and the standard rises. One Senator doing the job with clarity and courage makes ten others look like class captains struggling to hold chalk. People start to see what they have been missing. People start to question what they have been tolerating. People begin to understand how low the bar had sunk.
And when Nigerians begin to compare they compare loudly.
Suddenly the silence of your own Senator becomes louder than a shout.
Representation in Nigeria was never designed to be a spectator sport. Senators were not elected to fade into Abuja like boarding school students returning with dirty uniforms and flimsy stories. They were meant to be visible. They were meant to shake tables. They were meant to push for roads and hospitals and accountability and real development. But somewhere along the line many entered politics to retire early. They collect allowances. They hide in offices. They write statements no one reads. They sign budgets they do not understand. They nod when they should protest. They sleep when they should speak.
And when they finally open their mouths on the Senate floor they shout Aiyees have it. Nays have it. Like actors in a bad rehearsal. Words thrown about to sound official while nothing actually changes. That is your modern Nigerian Senator. Busy talking. Doing nothing.
Representation should not be a disappearing act. It should not be a four year break from real work. It should not be a hiding place for tired men and women who want soft landings. A Senator should be a force. A voice. A presence you cannot ignore. Someone whose absence would be felt and whose work would speak before their name is even mentioned. But for too long Nigerians have been ruled by shadows. People who show up only during elections and vanish as soon as the posters come down.
If your Senator now looks like a Students Union Senator beside Natasha please gather here. You are many. Do not be ashamed. You have been underrepresented for years. You have been managed like a people who should accept crumbs. Now someone is proving that the job was never impossible. It was never too complex. It was only a matter of will.
Nigeria is changing. The people are watching. Awareness is rising in every corner of this country. One hardworking leader now exposes ten weak ones without saying a word. When someone works Nigerians see it. When someone fails Nigerians shout. The old excuse that the system is too slow and too complicated is falling apart. It was never the system. It was convenience. It was comfort.
Now the camouflage is tearing.
Every Senator must choose. Step up or fade away. Work or watch your people embarrass you in comparison. Serve or be replaced. Nigerians are no longer impressed by titles. They want presence. They want courage. They want leaders who understand that power is not decoration. Power is responsibility.
Let every Senator hear this clearly. When your constituents cannot remember your name you have already written your political obituary. A leader who does not ring a bell anywhere cannot ring change in a nation. A Senator who does nothing will soon be replaced by a citizen who has had enough.
Natasha has raised the standard. Nigerians have seen it. They will not unsee it. The pressure will rise. The comparisons will grow sharper. And the silence that protected mediocrity for decades will not save anyone again.
Because this new Nigeria is simple. If you work the people will know. If you do nothing the people will talk. And this time the country is listening with both ears and both eyes open. No Senator can hide from that. Not anymore.
And when the people finally rise the only sound left will be the echo of failure bouncing around an empty hall.
The post Man like Senator Natasha, by Stephanie Shaakaa appeared first on Vanguard News.
