My Africa

Happy Wednesday : D

Before I delve into the topic of the day, I wish to make an announcement... One of the prevailing feedback/criticisms that I have received so far about this blog is the tasking technicalities of the comment section, as majority of the complainants indicated that most times, they are too impatient to go through the "type in the code...to prove you're not a robot". verification processes. Well, since I'm equally irritated as well and as a matter of urgency, I sought to remove the authentication protocol (oblivious of the repercussions though), and succeeded. Yes! I have consciously permitted robots to also read and comment on my blog. What is good for the goose is also good for the gander.

Okay, back to the topic!

Some time ago, I watched an astonishing video exposé that also had me feeling somewhat infuriated. Unfortunately, I couldn't recall the specific source of that ridiculous video. I wasn't successful googling anything close to it neither. otherwise I bet it would have made for an impressive watch for you too.

The video was a sampling of some American college students on their general knowledge of Africa. The questions bordered mainly on identifying countries in Africa and the typical characteristics of Africa and Africans. With no intention to be hyperbolic here, not one of them could name more than two countries. A greater number of them named only Libya, while the rest, amidst giggles and shrugs of nonchalance, declared they didn't know. Apart from Libya (due to the notable revolution in the country then, I guess), South Africa, Egypt, Nigeria and Djibouti, no other country, of all the other remaining 52 was mentioned.

And what did they have to say when they were asked about their impressions about Africa? Third world, disease-ridden and poverty stricken. I remember one of them (a lot more well-informed than the others) rightly described the colourful culture alluding specifically to Africans' colourful mode of  dressing.

Like I have effectively emphasized already, I was upset, but not beyond reasoning that by way of post colonial power relations and the enduring influence of negative stereotypes, (most of which is manifested on the distorted and inbalanced image of Africa portrayed on the western media), these students may have been influenced.

The reason for these negative reportage about Africa is not far-fetched as it is deeply rooted in supercilious need of the western world to feel overly superior and the popular definition of news as the negative. Oddity as well. The more negative and odd the news, the more lucrative.

So it's like, dig for more of those mind-blowing poverty induced child labour stories similar to the Kenyan Boku, an eight year old boy who become the breadwinner of his family after his father died and his mother fell sick after she lost her shop to an inferno or graphic pictures of naked Mamma Sassey who died during childbirth, more images of hunger and disease stricken naked children in slums swarmed around by flies, a land of barrenness devoid of lushness and healthiness, pictures of crises and war, corruption, greed and the ostentatiousness of Africa's leaders and elites, just about any of such stories that are mostly the perverse opposite of the western world.

And in all these accounts, on the other side of the coin is the real Africa, the Africa they never show us because it is submerged beneath these negativism.

It was her first visit to Nigeria and Africa generally, so I had to guide Edith (a Mexican) to various places in the first days, until she became familiar with her new environment and could cope independently.

I taught her myriads of local slangs (from Igbo to Pigin) she was likely going to hear everyday and the need to commit such words/phrases as 'change' (money wise), 'how far', 'no wahala', 'onye-ocha', 'onyibo' to her memory. The speed she assimilated them still amazes me, and now she jokes about being full blooded Nigerian. That's by the way.

On our first visit to a shopping mall, at the cash register, while she tried to extract some money to pay her bill, she held unto her wad of Naira notes so tightly and close to her chest in a probable attempt to shield her money from hawk-eyed crooks that were likely lurking about in wait for loose fisted Mexican. Because she later asked me to explain some geographical facts about Nigeria she sourced from the internet, I concluded her money clutching could have stemmed from information she could have also obtained from research about Nigeria before she embarked on her journey..

It was an opportunity to promote the real Africa.

Jovial, warm and welcoming are the nature of the majority of the people you will meet, I told her.

Already, she's living it: the shop attendants that always ask if she needs her moi-moi/meat-pie/cake warmed in the microwave (a privilege that had existed to my oblivion because no one cared if I ate my moi-moi frozen even. I was never asked), the Ogene cultural troupe that chanted specially composed tunes and struck the local ogene (gongs) as they twirled around Edith, who coyly covered her mouth with her hands, unaware of the appropriate dance step to adopt. And so on. "Everyone is so nice", she hasn't stopped eulogizing. This is the real Africa they never show.

The typical and extraordinary twist to the Big Brother Africa reality show in season one required that as a reward for passing a cocktail-making challenge, Gaetano trades places with the Big Brother UK housemate in season four. Scott Cameron. Gaetano relocated to Big Brother house in Hertfordshire, England while Cameron moved to South Africa. Cameron was smitten by Africa's  warmness and was reluctant to leave when it was finally time up. This is the Africa they never show.

In the street of Berlin, Sierra Leonian Bassey's Ankara-made pants were the centre of admiration among Germans. In Bassey's words," rocking my Ankara pants in Berlin and white folks go like...I luv your pants". Again and unfortunately, this is the Africa they never show.

Regardless, this is my Africa. The continent of warm sunshine, high mountains, tropical jungle and lush grassland of diverse peoples, diverse languages, diverse cultural identities. It is my home, and home to Nelson Mandela, home to Haile Selassie, home to Kenneth Kaunda, home to Nnamdi Azikiwe, home to Chinua Achebe and Wole Soyinka, home to Miriam Makeba, home to Joke Silva, home to Jay Jay Okocha, home to Tuface and Prezzo.

PROUD!