Today is America’s birthday. Usually, I’d google to see how old America is, and I’d come online and wish America a XXXth birthday as if I knew how old she was before I researched her. It wasn’t that I did not care, but that the average American probably does not know off the top of their head how old America is.
I’ve lived in America for most of my life, and while I have always appreciated America and the American culture and people, I now have a new found love and respect for this country that has taken me in and watched me grow and blossom. I was barely a teenager when I came to America. Now, I’m a grown woman. Yes, I still have a lot of growing up to do, but I am definitely not the child I was when I got here.
2017 was such a pivotal moment in my life, but it wouldn’t have been so pivotal if I was not in America. Had the things that happened last year happened in Nigeria, for example, I would have directly entered one chance with no chance of escape. But in America, I stood a chance.
America isn’t perfect. No place on earth is perfect. Some people say that Americans are wild and lawless, that they’re evil because they do things that other pretentiously-more-conservative nations will not do. For example, gay people are allowed to be gay. Whereas, in Nigeria where we kill each other based one tribe allegedly missing cows, we call ourselves righteous. And conservative. And prayerful.
The dream has always been to one day move back home to Nigeria, but honestly, I am now rethinking it. What are my rights as a woman in Nigeria? What power do I wield? I am not okay with not wielding any power. I am a woman, second to God. My existence is a miracle. My body is the site of a miracle. I mean, I am the daughter of the Most High God. How can I not wield power? Physical power. Economical power. Spiritual power. Legal power. Social power. I. Want. It. All.
A former Russian client of mine who does not speak a lick of English always says, “God bless America!” He does not have to speak English to know that America is blessed. As an immigrant, I have a different appreciation for America than the Americans because I know what it’s like to not be American.
It’s nice to be American. God bless America.
God bless America Vera. Thank God for America. Sometimes, i sit back and wonder what my life would be like if I lived and married in Nigeria. Like you, I’ve lived in America longer than I lived in Nigeria. Like you, i arrived as a tween and I’ve always identified myself as Nigerian with strong Nigerian values. It took living with my in-laws, no, my in-laws living with me for me to value what I have here. All of a sudden, I wasn’t Nigerian enough, I wasn’t Yoruba enough, I wasn’t a virtuous woman and worst of all I was a “feminist”. A lot of CRAP was heaped on me in the name of being Nigerian. 2017 was my year of new beginnings. My marriage has never recovered but life goes on. On the plus side, i found my true self.
Girrrrllllll!!!! Who are you? You have no idea how much you’re preaching to the choir right now. I’m sorry about your marriage, but cheers to finding your true self.