It was interesting to see a film set in the United States during the oil rush, around the year 1910 –and to be constantly reminded of Nigeria.
The way communities were just set aside by the big men, while at the same time struggling among themselves. The oil spilling into nature, damaging the beautiful surroundings. Struggling, poor families who are desperate to believe that the oil will bring new wealth and development to their area. Only to be disappointed. And of course also the church, keeping the people awake at night and focussing more on a new church building than on better houses for the people. But above all: greed. The greed of only a few, killing the hopes of many.
That was the US a hundred years ago. Irrespective of my opinion of the contemporary US society, they have come a long way since then. If you put on your glasses with the best shade of pink available, you might believe that all the fighting over blood oil here is just a stage in history leading to prosperity for all in the nearby future. However, considering human nature it’s easier to just get reminded of the film’s title. There will be blood.
Monday, July 28, 2008
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Inbreeding
One oyibo to the other: “I have met this fantastic man! We have been going out for some time now, and he is just so interesting, caring, interested in me and open minded –it’s just fantastic! I am so happy to have found him!”
“Is he Nigerian?”
“Uh, yes. Why?”
“oh...”
And it’s all in this “oh”. Despite the wonderful experience of the first oyibo, the fact that this ‘fantastic’ man is Nigerian clearly indicates that this is Not True and at one stage or another, the oyibo-in-love will find this out. After all, ALL Nigerian men are to be avoided. (Of course, Nigerian women needn’t be avoided. They make excellent, young and attractive, second wives. It’s pathetic, everyone agrees, to see an old ugly oyibo with a beautiful young Nigerian, but no, what else can you expect –they are men...) It is one of the signs of ‘integration’. The poor oyibo who loves this Nigerian is ‘naive’ or just ‘stupid’, but that she might have met a fantastic man who truly loves her, is simply not an option.
I always have to laugh over the Integration Debate in Europe (and yes, it’s written with capitals these days) and the anger that “those immigrants” stick to their own culture. I have learned that it’s not about integration at all: it’s about the dominant culture that has to be obeyed, it’s about assimilation. “The West” is the dominator and thus everyone should adapt to “us”. We can go abroad on holiday, eat our own food (“you can never trust the local food”) and walk half-naked into mosques, but an immigrant in our own country HAS to abide by our rules.
In Nigeria there is not much integration between oyibos and Nigerians. With of course the many exceptions, but in general... In Lagos it’s much worse than in Abuja or in other parts I have been. Perhaps because people here are a bit rough due to living in this ant heap, or because of the security situation. The other day I was cruising on an okada to meet up with a friend. When I was on the bike I got many hilarious comments –and shocked reactions from other oyibos who probably thought I was suicidal. Fair enough. However, when I met up with that friend (not even a lover), I got many weary looks and even looks of disapproval. Because my friend was Nigerian?
In Nigeria you have people EVERYWHERE since about 20% of the sub-Saharan population happens to live in this country. It’s quite a challenge to try and avoid all those people, but quite a lot of the oyibos succeed with their fenced houses and cars with tinted windows. And these people would then tell me “I have to go home every 3 months or so, or else I would go mad here!”
–but possibly they have gone mad long ago due to the inbreeding in their own circles?
“Is he Nigerian?”
“Uh, yes. Why?”
“oh...”
And it’s all in this “oh”. Despite the wonderful experience of the first oyibo, the fact that this ‘fantastic’ man is Nigerian clearly indicates that this is Not True and at one stage or another, the oyibo-in-love will find this out. After all, ALL Nigerian men are to be avoided. (Of course, Nigerian women needn’t be avoided. They make excellent, young and attractive, second wives. It’s pathetic, everyone agrees, to see an old ugly oyibo with a beautiful young Nigerian, but no, what else can you expect –they are men...) It is one of the signs of ‘integration’. The poor oyibo who loves this Nigerian is ‘naive’ or just ‘stupid’, but that she might have met a fantastic man who truly loves her, is simply not an option.
I always have to laugh over the Integration Debate in Europe (and yes, it’s written with capitals these days) and the anger that “those immigrants” stick to their own culture. I have learned that it’s not about integration at all: it’s about the dominant culture that has to be obeyed, it’s about assimilation. “The West” is the dominator and thus everyone should adapt to “us”. We can go abroad on holiday, eat our own food (“you can never trust the local food”) and walk half-naked into mosques, but an immigrant in our own country HAS to abide by our rules.
In Nigeria there is not much integration between oyibos and Nigerians. With of course the many exceptions, but in general... In Lagos it’s much worse than in Abuja or in other parts I have been. Perhaps because people here are a bit rough due to living in this ant heap, or because of the security situation. The other day I was cruising on an okada to meet up with a friend. When I was on the bike I got many hilarious comments –and shocked reactions from other oyibos who probably thought I was suicidal. Fair enough. However, when I met up with that friend (not even a lover), I got many weary looks and even looks of disapproval. Because my friend was Nigerian?
In Nigeria you have people EVERYWHERE since about 20% of the sub-Saharan population happens to live in this country. It’s quite a challenge to try and avoid all those people, but quite a lot of the oyibos succeed with their fenced houses and cars with tinted windows. And these people would then tell me “I have to go home every 3 months or so, or else I would go mad here!”
–but possibly they have gone mad long ago due to the inbreeding in their own circles?
Friday, July 18, 2008
Romance...
There are great, gorgeous men here who are really interesting and could be great friends. There are also other men… The type that thinks that love & a relationship can be created out of thin air, and that women can only be persuaded with extreme declarations… You can buy books with “the 100 best romantic text messages” which include the most flowery examples of fake romanticism –including spelling mistakes like “sweaty” instead of “sweetie”.
A typical text conversation that can take place if you know each other for about 5, maximum 10, minutes:
Guy:
Ow i wish i culd hold u so close2myself..caress yr feminine body durin ds drizzlin..bet u r goin2luv it huh!!Hop u r enjoyin yr sleep.Thinkin abt u PAPI!I KIA..
Guy again next day (after no reply to previous one):
Ow’s yr nyt?U r d only woman4me.pls still consider me n let’s c ds wknd. Let me kno ASAP!!av a nice day
Me:
Sorry but since ur txt yday im not interested in going anywhere with you.
Guy:
Its no biggie..its a free world,freedom if speech but dere is no crime in xpressin maself d bst way I culd.Its gud2b original!enjoy da rst of ya wkd.PEACE n LUV
Me (knowing better, but laughing too much for not to reply):
Im just tired of all dose men like u who act like they luv me –so it wasnt original.Expressin urself is gr8, faking emotions isn’t.Bye.
Guy:
I’ve alwys bin original n I aint gat fake emotns4u..pls dnt address me like1of dem.Born natural n ril so I won’t pretend I like u..d blunt truth is dt I like u n I dnt mind u!!Y cnt u take me4ma words n stp doubtin me.Consider me gud enof4a trial n lets cee ow it goes.I stil kia
This is why, on the whole, you should not give out your phone number. Although… giving out your number certainly leads to a lot of hilarious situations!
A typical text conversation that can take place if you know each other for about 5, maximum 10, minutes:
Guy:
Ow i wish i culd hold u so close2myself..caress yr feminine body durin ds drizzlin..bet u r goin2luv it huh!!Hop u r enjoyin yr sleep.Thinkin abt u PAPI!I KIA..
Guy again next day (after no reply to previous one):
Ow’s yr nyt?U r d only woman4me.pls still consider me n let’s c ds wknd. Let me kno ASAP!!av a nice day
Me:
Sorry but since ur txt yday im not interested in going anywhere with you.
Guy:
Its no biggie..its a free world,freedom if speech but dere is no crime in xpressin maself d bst way I culd.Its gud2b original!enjoy da rst of ya wkd.PEACE n LUV
Me (knowing better, but laughing too much for not to reply):
Im just tired of all dose men like u who act like they luv me –so it wasnt original.Expressin urself is gr8, faking emotions isn’t.Bye.
Guy:
I’ve alwys bin original n I aint gat fake emotns4u..pls dnt address me like1of dem.Born natural n ril so I won’t pretend I like u..d blunt truth is dt I like u n I dnt mind u!!Y cnt u take me4ma words n stp doubtin me.Consider me gud enof4a trial n lets cee ow it goes.I stil kia
This is why, on the whole, you should not give out your phone number. Although… giving out your number certainly leads to a lot of hilarious situations!
Thursday, July 17, 2008
This thing
Nigerians are generally intelligent people. That people here can understand each other is probably clear proof of that. After all, a lot of conversations feature the word “thing” and related words. A typical sentence could go like: “please get me this thing that I need for this thing, you know?”. And people actually do know. Being vague in answers is also more than permitted and if I ask someone “where did you go this weekend?” I am not surprised to hear “I went somewhere, for this thing”.
Living in Nigeria has proven to be a mind-cracking game, and in my own case it is worsened by the fact that I don’t speak fluent pidgin, or Hausa. Today I tried to give our gateman instructions for when a friend of mine would come and visit, and before I knew it I was discussing the dustbins on the compound. And I have NO idea how this turn in the discussion came about.
I think next time I’ll tell the gateman he has to do this thing because this person will come at this time, needing this thing. Probably he’ll be able to understand that better…
Living in Nigeria has proven to be a mind-cracking game, and in my own case it is worsened by the fact that I don’t speak fluent pidgin, or Hausa. Today I tried to give our gateman instructions for when a friend of mine would come and visit, and before I knew it I was discussing the dustbins on the compound. And I have NO idea how this turn in the discussion came about.
I think next time I’ll tell the gateman he has to do this thing because this person will come at this time, needing this thing. Probably he’ll be able to understand that better…
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
The Chinese are coming
I think the Chinese were always there, actually, but now they have “come to Africa” and everybody is delighted or afraid. Delighted seems to fit the description of those at the receiving end. The receiving end of money, or cheap plastic and clothes. The afraid part seems to be the European sentiment. All of a sudden we are afraid on behalf of the Africans for the Asian “neo-colonialists in disguise”. Expressing that fear might help disguise the European ongoing activities towards exploiting Africa? However, Europe can learn a lot from the Asian approach. Whereas we will always be considered slave drivers and exploiters, and any good attempt at shaking off our colonial historical image is automatically counteracted by a wrong comment or action that is blown out of proportion, the Asians can buy up land, do projects without using African employees, and flood the markets with cheap goods that should really be produced in Africa itself –and still get a warm welcome. I am probably oversimplifying things though.
Ah well, let me not complain too much. I mean, thanks to China I can watch DVDs for almost no money: 48 films on 1 DVD, for the equivalent of 3 euro. By now I’m used to watch films where sound and image are not synchronized, where there is a squeak throughout the film, where an entire collection of “Nicole Kidman films” can also host a film with Meg Ryan with no Nicole Kidman in sight (they look the same?), and where you have the quintessential English subtitling generated by a computer (at least I hope it’s a computer) that translates the English in Chinese and back into an incomprehensible English again. Quite nifty.
Perfection is possibly not the best sales pitch here though. Cheap has a much better ring to it, for the masses. On the other hand, the rich Nigerians are far more demanding than I can ever be, always flashing around the newest gadgets and going for a shopping excursion in Dubai or (of course also) China. Yet good service seems to be less appreciated with the result that I can sit in probably the best hotel of Lagos where I just had to wait 1,5 hours for a cup of coffee only to get it served with... honey and jam... Perhaps we need the Asians after all?
Ah well, let me not complain too much. I mean, thanks to China I can watch DVDs for almost no money: 48 films on 1 DVD, for the equivalent of 3 euro. By now I’m used to watch films where sound and image are not synchronized, where there is a squeak throughout the film, where an entire collection of “Nicole Kidman films” can also host a film with Meg Ryan with no Nicole Kidman in sight (they look the same?), and where you have the quintessential English subtitling generated by a computer (at least I hope it’s a computer) that translates the English in Chinese and back into an incomprehensible English again. Quite nifty.
Perfection is possibly not the best sales pitch here though. Cheap has a much better ring to it, for the masses. On the other hand, the rich Nigerians are far more demanding than I can ever be, always flashing around the newest gadgets and going for a shopping excursion in Dubai or (of course also) China. Yet good service seems to be less appreciated with the result that I can sit in probably the best hotel of Lagos where I just had to wait 1,5 hours for a cup of coffee only to get it served with... honey and jam... Perhaps we need the Asians after all?
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