Goodbye Nigeria July 18, 2008

Today is my last day at work.  I’m blessed to have met such amazing people–they’ll be in my heart forever (tear drop, tear drop).  I feel the need to tie up some loose ends and misconceptions that arose from my previous blogs.  I’m not perfect, and each day I learned something new.

 

1.)  Although I look Yoruba (as I’ve been told time and time again), strangers were most likely speaking to me in Pidgin English. Think of ebonics on crack and besides “I dey” and “Afa”, it’s difficult to decipher.  It’s widely spoken because it’s the easiest way to communicate across ethnic groups. 

2.)  I don’t think the fruit stand gave me parasites.  They most likely came from the roadside diners known as “Mama putz”.  The women use coal and big iron pots to cook outdoors.  Once again, the origins of the water they use is suspect and even the locals hesitate to eat there.  My colleagues were appalled when I told them where I had been eating, but on a shoestring budget I’d gladly pay $.50 per meal all over again. 

3.) Despite my Uncle Diddy’s notions, all Nigerians are not crooks.  However, some of them are very resourceful, and as my friend Tobe says: ”You can only scam a criminal”.  Ashe brotha ashe.  Now, those 419 scam victims don’t look so pitiful after all.

4.) My poverty (lack of running water  and inconsistent power) is not indicative of every Nigerian’s living conditions.  I must be clear that I was poor in Nigeria because I am poor in America; unfortunately, poor in Nigeria looks a little different.  Those who can afford the luxuries of fuel-generated electricity and cable tv lead lives very similar to most Americans.  I, on the other hand, lived in the “servant’s quarters” of the main house, and, as you can imagine, suffered accordingly.

5.) The facial scars are not conclusive signs of the lower class.  Yoruba people practice facial scarification.  It seems to be an indicator of a person who is not too far removed from the rural part of the country. 

 

Thanks for traveling with me.  My journey here is nearly complete, but my work back home is just beginning.  My passion for activism has been magnified, and at 26 my purpose in life has become crystal clear.  A few days ago I reflected on my fascination with Nigeria.  It started when I read Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe in the tenth grade, and became enamoured by the simultaneous power and vulnerability of the Igbo.  In college, I took a “Peoples and Cultures of Africa” course where my final paper was titled “Gender Inequalities Among the Igbo”.  Now ten years after my first introduction to Nigeria, I’m in Nigeria fighting to bridge the inequalities I first discovered five years ago.  It’s amazing how life leads us to the unimaginable.  Let me just take a minute to reveal in the glory of God’s favor.  Hotep.