Something New

Intro: This is a story i recently completed.  I don’t know yet if this will become a regular thing  but i thought there was no harm trying this out here for now.  I’d love to know what you think of it.

 

With his eyes resting on me, he continued to answer Miriam, telling his story with ease and apparently oblivious to the effect he was having on me. ‘Fine’ I thought. ‘If that’s how he’s going to be, that’s ok with me. I can give as good as I get’. So turning my head towards Mike, I pretended that I couldn’t see him staring. I could see that this was infuriating for him, a development I was secretly pleased about. But of course, I didn’t let this show at all.

 

The whole experience was quite surreal. This was the scenario I had dreamt of for so long and I couldn’t really believe it was happening. There he sat, looking so normal and relaxed while I felt I could barely contain my emotions. How could I have such an intense reaction towards him even though I hadn’t seen him for so long? My heart skipped a little beat and I could feel the familiar nervousness settling in my belly again. It felt like I was holding my breath throughout dinner; I didn’t dare relax and I couldn’t address him directly. I couldn’t help stealing glances at him though. ‘Gosh, he’s so gorgeous. It cannot be legal that he gets more attractive with each year. No one human should be allowed to have that much beauty’.  And on and on it went in my head till I thought I was beginning to go mad. Then while indulging in another stolen glance, our eyes met and he held my gaze for a moment longer than necessary. I thought I was going to melt into the liquid pools of brown that were his eyes. Mercifully just as I was thinking that I couldn’t take anymore, he dropped his gaze as the corners of his mouth creased up with a knowing smile.

 

I still don’t know how I made it through the night. I was so petrified of making a fool of myself but amazingly, the super cool side of me seemed to be in control. There I was making witty, insightful comments and generally holding sway all the while feeling like a mass of jelly on the inside. Somehow I held it together for two and a half hours and at the first opportunity I got, I tried to make a quick escape but James had other ideas. Apparently we were headed in the same direction and of course, it would make sense to share a cab. I couldn’t even find the strength to protest so I got in, determined to say as little as possible. I would not let my mouth betray my emotions especially as I was unsure about what exactly it was I wanted. I wasn’t expecting him to make some grand declaration about his feelings for me and how his life had been miserable without me around but I also wanted some indication that my absence had affected him somehow. I did not want to know that his life had been perfectly normal without me neither did I want to hear about his conquests of which I was sure there had been plenty. And so I sat there in icy silence praying for the time to pass as quickly as possible.

 

10 minutes in and he hadn’t said anything. Now I was starting to worry. How could he sit there saying absolutely nothing to me? Did he never think of me, wondering why I left or whether I’d ever come back? And what about the smouldering looks he sent my way in the restaurant? Did they mean anything or was that just his way of teasing me? Did he really have no interest in me whatsoever? I have to give James one thing: he was always able to mess with my head.

 

I glanced at him, catching a half smile on his face. How dare he seem like a man with no cares? How could I make him feel a fraction of the emotional torture I was experiencing? Punctuating my thoughts, the driver picked this moment to start a conversation. I guess he was as uncomfortable as I was with the strange silence. ‘It’s been nice this week, the weather huh’.  ‘Yes, I replied. It’s much milder than normal for this time of year’. He carried on, ‘I know it’s none of my business Sir, but it’s never a bad time to apologise to the lady. ‘Excuse me’, said James his face rapidly turning crimson.‘ Apologise. You know, saying you’re sorry and all that. It saves you a lot of grief later and you don’t have to lose any privileges if you know what I mean’ continued our driver. By now I was completely mortified and wishing i could disappear. It wasn’t all bad though because for the first time since we started this journey, James and I were experiencing the same emotion.

 

‘Oh, it’s one of those things. We’ll work it out later but thanks for your advice. Would you turn on the radio please?’ he asked the driver. It was, I thought, a great diversionary tactic. It would keep him quiet for a few minutes at least. While I was working out how to explain to James that I was sorry the driver had mistaken us for a couple (I was sure my pouting had something to do with his reaching that conclusion), he turned to me and said quietly, ‘he’s right you know. I never did say sorry for what I said’.  There was silence as we both cast our minds back to the ugly incident that marred our last meeting. He continued ‘ I was only angry that you seemed so impenetrable. I wanted to get a reaction from you but I didn’t mean to hurt you’.

 

There it was, the admission I had longed for so much. I would have given anything to hear him say sorry then and though I thought I was past it, the memory apparently still had the power to move me. There was silence again as I grasped for words. ‘I’m sorry too. You know, I was always so nervous around you and I could never find the right words to say. I didn’t want you to think I was stupid so I kept quiet instead. I never intended to make you feel rejected’.

 

And so it was all out. In less than 5 minutes, the shadow hanging over us was dispelled and for a moment, it felt like the car filled up with fresh air. I could finally take a deep breath, relieved that I had gotten the chance to tell him what I wished I had from the beginning.  For the first time since we entered the cab, we were at ease in each other’s company. The silence between us no longer felt heavy and from the corner of my eye, I could make out the outlines of a smile on the lips of our nosy driver. We were now pulling up to my building and I realised that our journey was quickly coming to an end. As the car came to a stop I turned to James to say goodbye. ‘If you want to talk or just hang out, you know where to find me.’ I said. Next thing I knew, he was drawing me in for a hug and in that moment, I had the strong sense that it was all going to be alright.

 

I let myself into the lobby and as I headed up the stairs, I caught sight of them leaving. When I stood in this spot earlier in the evening, I could not have imagined what would happen tonight. I hadn’t even known that he was going to be at dinner. And just like that, in the space of four hours, everything was different and the world seemed full of possibilities again.

The End of Racism

Read this ‘Labour claims victory over racism‘ to fully comprehend the following post.

 

Really Labour? Your party has managed to drastically reduce racism in the UK? Wow! What an achievement. I wonder why they haven’t deigned to share their magic formula with everyone else seeing as a solution to racism would seriously improve the lives of so many around the world. But I doubt they’ve actually solved anything. In fact, the words of the government representative making this claim are very instructive.

Consider this excerpt from the article for instance:

  He claimed that it is outdated to assume that coming from a minority racial background is the main thing holding people back in society. People from all ethnic groups are just as likely to be held back by poverty and lack of opportunity, he said.

Big fat LOL! Clearly, the man doesn’t understand what racism is or how it affects people. Otherwise he would not make such a broad, meaningless claim.

And just to further prove my point, take a look at the comments that follow the article. I wouldn’t be wrong to conclude that his government has failed in its objective if I were judging his claim on the basis of those comments alone.  But hey, i may be missing something here.  Who knows, the UK may truly be on the way to ending racism. Excuse me while i chuckle.

Solidarity with Haiti

I didn’t immediately realise the gravity of the incident when the story of the horrific earthquake in Haiti first broke. It was shocking to become  aware of the death toll and the numbers of people made homeless. Please take a moment to donate to relief funds. Whatever you can give will make a difference to a desperate situation. And don’t forget the people of Haiti in your prayers especially families in diaspora who cannot do much to help from their current locations.  

A list of aid organisations can be found here:

http://www.cnn.com/SPECIALS/2007/impact/

Music to chill to

Here’s something to keep your Saturday going nicely. Enjoy

More on the underwear bomber: The War on Terror

I’m sure Nigerians across the globe let out a collective groan on hearing the news of the attack on Christmas day last year. Most of us knew without needing to be told that we were going to be royally screwed on the visa front. According to some, the very fact of being from Nigeria is a warning sign in itself. It has been reported that US Secretary of State, Hilary Clinton will be reviewing the visa procedures so we can be almost certain that US visas which were so difficult to secure in the past will now be practically impossible to get. And as of this week, Nigeria was added to the list of countries to be subject to extra screening at airports. The underlying assumption behind all this noise is that you can tell by looking at people who is likely to be a terrorist. If Umar’s story has taught us anything, it is the falsity of this idea. 

Numerous reports have pointed out that nobody who knew him could have predicted that he would be involved in such a thing. Profiling would not have identified Umar as a potential terrorist. In fact, if you were constructing a profile of a perfect/desirable foreigner, Umar would fit the description to a tee. He was intelligent, had a lot of financial resources (so would definitely be contributing to the economy not drawing from the public purse), came from a prestigious family and had attended some of the most reputable schools in the world. If someone like Umar could not have gotten a US visa, it would mean that almost no Nigerian would ever qualify for one. Yet instead of realising the futility of profiling, some loud voices are calling for more of it.

A lot has also been made of the fact that Umar paid cash for his ticket and travelled without luggage. First, there is nothing unusual about cash transactions in Africa. In case these people are not aware, the use of debit/credit cards is not widespread for many reasons which I will not go into. Even people who use credit/debit cards in other locations often switch to cash when they land in Nigeria. Is America planning to supply the infrastructure, wide access to bank services and trust that are needed to eliminate the reliance on cash in the country? If people are to be profiled based on who pays cash for a flight, they might as well ban most of us from travelling. Secondly, travelling abroad from Nigeria with nothing but hand luggage is something that can also reasonably be explained. Anyone who knows how Nigerians love to capitalise on the opportunity to shop would be able to understand why someone might decide to leave home with only hand luggage and stock up on everything on their way back. This is especially relevant in the case of long-term visitors who would probably buy most of what they need at their destination rather than taking stuff with them that they wouldn’t be able to bring back.

The critical failure here is not that US intelligence did not have enough information about Umar. The problem is that they didn’t put it together in such a way as to draw useful conclusions from it. Instead of rectifying that problem, the US in what I consider an over-reaction, apparently intends to punish everyone else by adopting more draconian measures that cause people more hassle but do not necessarily make traveling any safer. You would have thought that American policy makers would have learnt the lessons of Iraq and Guantanamo Bay but if the talk of the last week is anything to go by, this is not the case. If they keep heading down this path, they’ll end up spending tons more money on security and still be left wondering why the war on terror is not being won.

More on the underwear bomber: Nigerian Parenting/Attitudes to Mental Health

I can’t believe this is my first post of 2010. I must start by wishing everyone a Happy New Year!

In my last post, I was concerned with the person of Umar and trying to understand his motivations in the mission he undertook. In the next couple of posts, I will be looking at what this young man’s story tells us about the war on terror in general and Nigerian attitudes to parenting and mental health.

My heart goes out to his family because this is surely a tragedy a for them. What Umar did has to be every parent’s worst nightmare. The boy who apparently was given everything messes up so badly, bringing disgrace to his family and his country. It is quickly becoming clear though that he was an emotionally vulnerable young man, lacking the support of family or a strong social network and who was dealing with the challenge of forging an identity on his own. In sending him off to the schools they did at such a young age, his parents had good intentions but looking back now, they may well conclude that they may have underestimated the necessity of emotional support in his life.

I’ve noticed that every time I’ve heard a group of Nigerian parents discussing Umar’s state of mind, they all seem to be agreed that he left home too young. To a person, they’ve all said that his being in boarding school meant that his parents missed the opportunity to discipline him, correct him and smack him if necessary. These reactions make me wonder why Nigerians seem to have such little understanding of people’s emotional needs.  I must confess that I find it strange that this conception of parental support is centred on discipline with not a mention of love or tenderness. I don’t think Umar was lacking discipline; he has come across so far as an internally disciplined person, you would have to be to fit  your underwear with explosives knowing you were journeying to your death. If anything, I think he was missing a sense of acceptance and the emotional grounding that we all need to face the harsh realities of life.

This brings me to the identity issues many young Nigerians and Africans deal with. More of us than at any other time in history are now living, studying or working outside our countries by choice (as opposed to slavery). While the potential benefits of making it abroad are obvious (the number of Nigerians praying to get visas to go abroad for any reason is a testament to this), too many people are blind to the difficulties that come along with the experience. Yes, the costs of ‘the dream’ are very high indeed.

I feel we are very ill-equipped to deal with these matters as even talking about it with family can be a massive challenge.  Attempts to discuss these topics are often met by a wall of ignorance, a failure to comprehend or even worse, dismissal.  It is important for adults, parents and families to understand what is going on when their children find themselves caught between cultures and trying to figure out where they fit in the world. You may not be able to fix it but the sense of being understood provides much relief to the ones going through this mental battle.

Umar is in many senses an extreme example. He happened to have the perfect combination of ingredients to create the Christmas day disaster we are all now intimately familiar with.  While it may be reassuring to know that the likelihood of others in his position following a similar path is small, we should not be deceived into thinking that they are living scar-free.

I remember studying a poem by Lenrie Peters in secondary school. It resonates with me now as I think about this issue.

(To be continued)

 

‘We have come home’ – Lenrie Peters

We have come home

From the bloodless wars

With sunken hearts

Our boots full of pride

From the true massacre of the soul

When we have asked

‘What does it cost

To be loved and left alone’

 

We have come home

Bringing the pledge

Which is written in rainbow colours

Across the sky for burial

But it is not the time

To lay wreaths

For yesterday’s crimes,

Night threatens

Time dissolves

And there is no acquaintance

With tomorrow

 

The gurgling drums

Echo the stars

The forest howls

And between the trees

The dark sun appears.

 

We have come home

When the dawn falters

Singing songs of other lands

The death march

Violating our ears

Knowing all our loves and tears

Determined by the spinning coin

 

We have come home

To the green foothills

To drink from the cup

Of warm and mellow birdsong

To the hot beaches

Where the boats go out to sea

Threshing the ocean’s harvest

And the hovering, plunging

Gliding gulls shower kisses on the waves

 

We have come home

Where through the lighting flash

And the thundering rain

The famine the drought,

The sudden spirit

Lingers on the road

Supporting the tortured remnants

of the flesh

That spirit which asks no favour

of the world

But to have dignity.

(Text from http://www.cafeafricana.com/Poetry.html)

My take on the events of December 25th, 2009

Much has been said about the attempted act of terrorism on Christmas Day involving a Nigerian yet there still isn’t enough information to answer all the questions I have. I find myself for the first time, interested in hearing the story of a ‘terrorist’. Perhaps because he is someone  I can relate to in some ways. Umar  Farouk Abdulmutallab looks like a person that could have been a classmate or an acquaintance. In other words, it feels like he could have been just another Nigerian guy in the diaspora*. Other people involved in terrorism (Shoe bomber, Richard Reid for example) seemed too distant, and in some sense not real. Whereas here is somebody that I can imagine coming across in my life. Maybe somebody that I might even have liked or admired as he is reported to be smart and to have a kind, polite demeanour. This seems like a lot of potential gone to waste. He was intelligent and apparently passionate enough to do a lot of good in this world if he wanted to.

So I find myself wanting to get inside his head. I want to know what he was thinking when he made the decision to detonate an explosive device on a plane. What on earth convinced him that terror was the route to making an impact? Why Al-Qaeda? Was he egotistical or power hungry? Did he have a saviour complex or was he just misguided? Was he mentally imbalanced? These are all questions that I would like answered.

Another thing this incident highlights is the role money plays in terrorism. I first started thinking about this in relation to the militant groups in the Niger Delta. I am hardly convinced by the veneer of ideology that a lot of groups claim when carrying out such acts. For me, what it boils down to is a battle for power that is driven by cold, hard cash.  See the linked TED talk for more on this topic.

Queen Elizabeth II said it best: ‘Some years are best forgotten’.  For Nigeria, 2009 has turned out to be just such a year. With militancy, religious rioting, a crisis in the banking sector, District 9, the disappearance of the President, the looming constitutional crisis and now a terrorist to top things off, there is little for the country to remember fondly from this year.

 

 

* Yes he was rich but that would not necessarily be the thing about him that stood out if you met him at school for instance.

Merry Christmas

Merry Christmas! I hope you all have a wonderful day with your friends and families.

And here’s a nice version of one of my favourite christmas songs.

On Friendships and Going Out Alone

I am used to having people whose love, care and concern I am certain of in my life. Lately, I have really struggled with finding satisfying friendships and I am finding that the lack of such close friends has a big effect on my day to day life. I hadn’t realised how much confidence I draw from the security of friends. The ones I have are great but they are too far away and though we try, it can be hard to keep up with time differences and all.

In this area, I am a mass of contradictions (in lots of other areas too but we’ll save that for another day). I crave intimacy, I love to be connected to people but then I also love my space. I don’t really enjoy superficial chatting about nothing. From my perspective, there’s a big distinction between acquaintances i.e. people I know and can hang out with and people that are friends.

I am beginning to think it is true that it becomes more difficult to make friends as you get older though I’m not exactly sure why it should be like this. Perhaps people have already formed their core group of friends or have a more difficult time letting new people into their lives.  Making friends seemed so easy in primary and secondary school; you could meet someone and be best friends with them by the end of the week. These days, I meet people and it is quite clear that we get on but there seems to be a limit to how close the friendship can get.  I sometimes find myself embarrassingly keen to be friends with someone but it’s not cool to be that eager.  I’m sure others have also felt like this about me so it probably goes both ways.

Another thing I have been noticing more frequently is how difficult it is to go out alone. It seems so socially unacceptable. I mean, I’m a complete person and last time I checked I was allowed to go anywhere I felt like. I haven’t come across any rules that mandate you to always be in the company of other people. Neither have I ever seen see any sign on a door that says ‘no unaccompanied persons allowed here’.  Sometimes, you don’t even have other people that you know to go with (people who travel a lot will relate to this). Yet people look at you as if you’ve got something growing out of your head for daring to go someplace on your own so much so that you can start to wonder whether  you don’t belong there. Is there something wrong with me for wanting to enjoy an evening of music at my pleasure? Must I have to round up a bunch of people to go with me for everything I might fancy doing? What if I want to explore activities that don’t necessarily interest my usual crowd?

For the most part, I enjoy the activities I pursue whether alone or in a group but I must say that it feels so much less awkward having other people around. I think this is a huge shame. People shouldn’t have to lock themselves away in a room, not enjoying what is on offer wherever they may be located  just because they don’t happen to have other people to drag along with them. Maybe we need a rent-a-friend service  for times like this*.

The more I encounter this attitude, the more I begin to understand why some people may prefer to stay in a not so great relationship than be alone. At least, you’ll always have someone to go with you to the cinema!

*It turns out such a service is already available in Japan and there are other websites that allow you to find people interested in doing an activity or attending an event with you.

*Some of the things it’s apparently not ok to do on your own: go dancing, go to a concert, go to a non-fast food restaurant and go to the cinema. Did I miss anything out?

Back in time for Christmas

Culturesoup needs a muse and a personal assistant. Heck, i might as well add a chef to the list!  Anyway, it’s good to be back on the blogging scene. Thanks to everyone who visited here while i was on my unplanned break and thanks particularly to SolomonSydelle and Myne Whitman for your messages.