Almost two years ago, I lost my brother. He was just 23. A sickle cell anemia patient who had struggled with multiple health conditions his entire life. That day, he was in the hospital. One minute he was fine, and the next… he wasn’t.
And just like that, he was gone.
The hardest part wasn’t just losing him – it was the way people around me accepted it.
“It’s God’s will,” they said. “We all have our time.”
But I couldn’t accept that. How can it be God’s will for a 23-year-old to die from a condition we know so much about? Where was the investigation? The questioning? The effort to make sure this doesn’t happen again?
I couldn’t help but think: if this were Sweden, where I now live, would it have been different? Would my brother have had a better chance, better access to care, better answers?
It’s this kind of acceptance that I thought about recently when I saw a video of an indigenous African tribe being introduced to Coca-Cola for the first time. Their curiosity was beautiful to watch, but the comment section? It was a battlefield.
“This is the beginning of corruption.”
“The West destroys everything!”
“First Coca-Cola, then culture.”
And I couldn’t help but think: is this really where we focus our energy?
There’s no denying that colonialism disrupted our lives in ways we’re still untangling. It imposed values, religion, and systems that weren’t ours, and that left scars. I understand the instinct to protect what’s left. But are we protecting it the right way?
Coca-Cola might not be a health drink, but does drinking a soda really mean cultural erosion? And while we criticize the West for its flaws, let’s be honest – life expectancy there is 80+ years, while in Nigeria, it’s just 63. That’s not just a statistic; it’s people like my brother.
That’s an almost 20 years gap.
What’s causing it? Infrastructure? Healthcare systems? A refusal to evolve?
Then I think about technology – smartphones, the internet, and artificial intelligence. For years, I’ve heard arguments about how these are “Western tools” that corrupt our youth and destroy our traditions. But let’s pause for a second: what about the opportunities they bring?
Imagine a farmer in a remote village using a smartphone to check weather updates or market prices. Imagine a student accessing free educational resources online. Imagine how many lives could change with just one tool in the right hands.
Are we saying these advancements are bad simply because they didn’t originate with us? Or are we afraid to admit that they could change things for the better?
So here’s my question: what are we holding onto, and what are we losing in the process?
This isn’t about blind acceptance of everything Western – that’s just as dangerous as rejecting it all. It’s about learning. Taking what works for us, leaving what doesn’t, and asking the right questions. Questions like:
- Why do we accept death as fate, instead of investigating the cause?
- Why are we so quick to label every Western influence as harmful?
- And most importantly, how do we steer change instead of fearing it?
Because here’s the truth: no culture stays the same forever. They adapt. They evolve. The real danger isn’t Coca-Cola or Western influence – it’s refusing to engage critically with what the world has to offer.
“Tradition is not the worship of ashes, but the preservation of fire.” – Gustav Mahler
Are we preserving the fire – or clinging to the ashes?
So, when we talk about “protecting our culture,” are we really doing that – or are we just afraid to ask the hard questions?
Here’s a thought: what if the real corruption isn’t in drinking Coca-Cola, but in rejecting curiosity itself? In refusing to ask, “What if?” What if our biggest strength lies not in shielding ourselves, but in choosing what to embrace – and knowing why?
