Living in a foreign land can be very very confusing. It can make you question every single thing you thought you knew. All your beliefs and values, they become unraveled, and all of a sudden, you’re wondering how long you have been so ignorant. Or is this new foreign land just making you think you have been ignorant?
Remember when I blogged about my conversation with my Vietnamese friend? By the way, I need to blog the second part of that conversation. I mentioned in the post about children born in America to Nigerian parents. Are the children Nigerians or Americans? Or both? Or none?
My little cousin, Toby (full name, Tobechukwu) is 12 years old, and we share the same birthday – January 14th. It’s literally a miracle. He was due to be born in April, but somehow, he showed up 3 months prematurely and was born on my birthday instead. He stayed in the incubator in the hospital till May, and he came home with an oxygen tank and a pulse monitor that had to be hooked to him at all times. He weighed 2.2 lbs at his birth. His mom is my mom’s baby sister. I remember how little and fragile he was. But I digress.
He was born here in Baltimore, Maryland. Since his birth, he has never traveled home to Nigeria. America is all he knows. Sure, he knows how to mimic his mom’s Nigerian accent, especially the way she screams Blood of Jesus! for just about every occurrence, and sure, he knows how to eat fufu, pounded yam, okra soup, etc. But ultimately, at this point of his life, he’ll pick pizza over fufu any day – more because he’s 12 than anything else, I think.
The other day, we were talking about Nigeria and I casually mentioned that some day, he and I will go to Nigeria together. Well, he shut that down real quick. He said he never wanted to go to Nigeria because all they do there is kidnap people. My anger about his statement is two-fold: (1) I’m mad that we (his family) have not done a good job of telling him about Nigeria, and (2) I’m madder that there is truth to what he said, and the problem might be that we told him too much about Nigeria.
The reality is that Nigeria isn’t exactly the safest place to be. Although I grew up in Nigeria, I have not been back home in a very long time AND I, too, am afraid of Nigeria. While I desperately want to go to Nigeria, there is also a crippling fear that grips me. I’d be lying if I said that things like kidnap, bomb blasts, and theft don’t come to mind when I think of Nigeria. My struggle now is how to tell Toby about Nigeria without lying or exaggerating the truth because deep down, I see him as Nigerian, and I want him to embrace Nigeria, even if just partly. How do I tell him that although there is indeed kidnap, that Nigeria is not that bad? Most of all, how do I say it and believe it, too?
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Most kids born abroad may not be as “Nigerian” as kids born in Nigeria in their earlier years but that changes when they grow up mostly in their late teens to early twenties and looking to define themselves GNG (I love you Jummy) is a good case study:) The best is to explain to him that just like how in America there are crazies who go shooting school kids but it doesn’t happen in all of America the same can be said of Nigeria explain to him that the bombings are not everywhere etc try and get him to watch good part of Nigeria videos on YouTube there is a lovely young American born lady called Ify YT username Naijagirl88 who did a series of vlogs of her very recent trip to Nigeria a few months ago maybe you two can watch it together. I think kids born abroad should be taken home as early on in life as possible if funds allow maybe from age 7 and then every two years after that so they can appreciate their roots. My two cents
Arrrggghhh!
One more thing to worory about!!!
Have him watch Gidi Up. He’ll LOVE lagos. Lol. But the truths is, just like Pendo said, it’s not all of Nigeria that is dangerous. To be honest, if it wasn’t for Boko Haram in the north, the country would be relatively safe. America, on the other hand, it can happen anywhere and at anytime. A sick weirdo can walk into a classroom, or a cinema theatre, or a mall and release fire. We do not have such sick weirdos in Nigeria. Even the insane Boko Haram people do have a reason–albeit a really STUPID one– for their killings.
As for kidnap, well from what I heard, there are targetted people. And this may sound somehow but they only mostly kidnap those that can pay their ransomes. I also heard when they kidnap people, they sometimes don’t even hurt them. I mean these are all disheartening.
I am just trying to say America may even be more dangerous than Nigeria. Listening to the local news in America gives me heartaches EVERY SINGLE NIGHT, with no exception. There is either an abuction, or a rape, or a missing child or heck, someone who just randomly shot little children. The world is dangerous, but I guess it should not deter us from living.
Pendo brought me here (thanks dahlink!) and man, this post will probably spur a post of my own. Because of that I will try to respond to your post without losing my mind and writing a super-long epistle.
I think the best way to get Toby to embrace, even partially, his Nigerian roots is for him to visit Nigeria. This is a not fool-proof method of course, but there’s something special about meeting dozens of your blood, about seeing all those cousins, uncles, aunts, grandparents, etc. that can’t be matched. If Toby is like my siblings and I, until we went to Nigeria this concept of “going to your (insert family member’s name)’s place” was an abstract idea—in our case we had no blood relatives in North America (which I know isn’t Toby’s case) and we used to feel like we were missing out when classmates would talk of going to their grandmother’s place for Christmnas, or having a sleepover at their cousin’s place. That feeling of missing out is something I’ll never forget, and the opposite feeling of belonging that came after getting to know the extended family is something I’ll also never forget. And it’s not the same when you meet at a family reunion outside of Nigera in my opinion—I’m probably just nostalgic but the thought of being in the country that my family originated in is deep to me.
My youngest brother went to Nigeria with my parents, sister and I last year. Prior to that he didn’t have a desire to visit Nigeria, but it was our sister’s wedding that prompted him to go. He was 25 at the time and the only other time he had been in Nigeria was for six weeks when he was 6 years old (he didn’t remember). The way he embraced family that he had never been in contact with, but even more, how he embraced his homeland was precious to behold—he never complained about not having the usual comforts, he enjoyed learning how people do things back home. Toby may not have a similar experience but he should, in my opinion, decide only after visiting.
I’m one of the biggest chickens around and I’m not so scared about the bad things that happen in Nigeria because I’m always scared of the plane ride, and everything pales in comparison for me I guess! Sorry I can’t help you with that part.