Kemi Badenoch, speaking on the Rosebud podcast, declared that she no longer identifies as Nigerian and has not held a Nigerian passport in over two decades. Despite spending most of her childhood in Nigeria, she remembers “never quite feeling that I belonged there”. She added: “I know the country [Nigeria] very well, I have a lot of family there, and I’m very interested in what happens there. But home is where my now family is, and my now family is my children, it’s my husband and my brother and his children, in-laws.”

Predictably, what Badenoch said is the sort of thing that some of her “anti-racist” progressive critics will take as confirmation that she is a “sell-out”, who has cut herself off from her African roots for personal advancement. Before this, she was already pilloried by Nigerian officials and commentators for calling it a country where “fear was everywhere” and “almost everything seemed broken”.

There’s a particular resentment from some Nigerians at how Badenoch used to embrace her “dual-identity” as British-Nigerian. When she ran for Parliament in Dulwich and West Norwood in 2010, she solicited the backing of Nigerians in Britain “to support a Nigerian who is trying to improve our national image and do something great here”. In other words, when she needed a leg up earlier in her political career she drew upon her Nigerian heritage, but now she has chosen to distance herself from it because it is politically convenient.

In some sense, the fact Badenoch now has more affinity for “God save the King” than “Nigeria, We Hail Thee” does not stem from any ethnic disloyalty. It is just a fact of assimilation, or rather naturalisation. Badenoch has now lived most of her life in Britain. Inevitably, her identity will not be the same as it was before. So, people shouldn’t be surprised, let alone outraged, that she identifies as British and treats her Nigerian nationality as an artifact from her parents; a part of her story, but not what defines her now.

Ultimately, this is about politics. Since becoming Tory leader, Badenoch has worked to cultivate the image of a tough, no-nonsense woman — a self-styled anti-woke “culture warrior” who promises to resolve the immigration question and revive British pride. That’s the prevailing mood on the Right, and she must align with it to succeed politically. But to do so credibly, she needs to preempt any charge of “dual loyalty”. That’s why she not only identifies exclusively with Britain, but routinely uses Nigeria as a negative contrast — the place she “ran away from” — to highlight the virtues of Britain.

Being the first black Tory leader means she is in an awkward position. Some of her most astringent critics come from the fringes of the radical online Right, who are suspicious of whether she would really represent the interests of the British people, precisely because of her Nigerian origins.  These are the types who pointedly insist on calling her by her full name, “Olukemi Adegoke Badenoch”.

At best, they see her as just another liberal conservative who will talk tough on immigration, but, like Boris Johnson, will keep immigration levels high. At worst, they see her as an embodiment of “Yookay”, which disparagingly refers to black and brown culture in the UK.

Badenoch’s position as both an outsider and an insider to Britain gives her a distinct advantage. She can recognise and highlight what makes Britain great in ways many natives might take for granted. This makes her form of nativism — rooted not in white ethnonationalism but in cultural majoritarianism — more credible. Like converts who can be more zealous than those born into a faith, Badenoch has positioned herself as a more ardent British nationalist than many British-born individuals. As her time as leader falters, she may lean harder on casting Nigeria as a cautionary tale, using it to justify a Britain she insists must never become the same.

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Ralph Leonard is a British-Nigerian writer on international politics, religion, culture and humanism.

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