immigrant tales

he lost his marriage to this relocation

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“A family broke up as a husband and wife were sleeping with each other when their spouses were at work” the black man who sat across from me proffered in halting English

“You mean the student who left her husband for another man and he had been sent back to Nigeria? Ola turned towards him

“No. This woman was the dependent so the man is still here. He is my colleague and not Nigerian. Said the black man.

I cannot recall his name now. I was meeting him for the first time. Earlier during the introductions, he mentioned his friend prevailed on him to attend the session. I do remember he is from Equatorial Guinea

It was a new week and we were back for the Wellbeing session. We seem to be getting more men now. Black men too. As a black woman myself, this speaks volumes. It says that these men – finding themselves away from the enabling patriarchy of the African continent – now realised how much out of their depths they were and willing to try something different.

“How do you mean sent back to Nigeria?” asked Ashley, the coordinator for today

“She took him off her visa” Ola volunteered

“They were working shifts and never home alone together” Equatoguinean remarked

“Please, let’s take this in turns” Ashley stated as more two other women interjected

“You go first” Santos, she pointed to the man whose name I did not recall.

“They were our neighbours in the flat upstairs. Two families with five children living in a 3-bedroom flat. When the second family moved in, they informed us it was the wife’s sister and her family who had newly arrived. It was only after the issue escalated we find out they were total strangers to each other”

“So what happened?”

“They were all working different shifts and home at different times. The older kids go to school but both families has little ones out of school. So one partner would be home with the child and all that” One husband was a student though. Well it happened”

“How were they found out?”

“The student came home impromptu at a time when he was meant to be at work. Met them in the bathroom. His wife was not remorseful and that aggravated him so he began beating her. The other man intervened and both men started fighting and throwing things”.

“It was so bad she was screaming, the two toddlers at home were crying too. We do not know which neighbour called the police. Their saving grace was they claimed it was the men fighting, not a wife-battering”.

“And now, two families with kids are scattered. The children attend the same school so this is quite messy”

“Different families with various challenges” Anna opined. An Espanola who grew up in Morocco before migrating across the Channel.

“Still want to share Ola?” Ashley asked

“Not today” Let’s talk about something cheerful.

I came in here to cleanse my head. Ironically, it is now muddier. I find that despite my limited social life, these unsavoury harrowing stories seem to keep floating in the air anywhere I go.

How can I help my people? remains the constant refrain in my head. 

Immigrant Parenthood: a man’s world

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“You saw how clueless I was when my baby began crying. The women here had to step in and take over. If I was back in Nigeria I would never take a baby out of the house on my own.  said a frazzled ‘deji as he started contributing to the discussion”

The Nigerian in me sensed his panic earlier when his baby began fretting. He kept rocking the buggy to lull the crying child without any success. A British woman tentatively intervened. This caused other women to chip in. Much as I wanted to help, Chemo was being a bitch and getting to that meeting already had me wiped. My need to help my community also to getting out of the house was why I got here.

We were at another of those sessions where the topic was ‘Issues that new arrivals face’. He was one of the volunteers from various communities who had turned up for this meeting. Faces around the table included a range of ethnic minorities alongside the British organisers

“Back home, you would not even get involved in child care because of community. My mom, her mom, sisters, aunties, and even paid domestic help with child care. And I speak for most of our men” he continued while I and the other ethnic minorities nodded

“As doctors, both of us can afford a nanny and a Housekeeper for this baby. But, this is what we get for moving away from the comforts of our homeland. We did this in search of a better life for our children.” This was their first child and his wife had recently resumed after her 9-months’ maternity Leave.

“I understand and that is why I asked to I carry your baby. Although I am British, my husband is Vietnamese. We lived in Vietnam for years. So, I know the culture.” Sharon, the woman who first reached out, smiled. She paced the room while still rocking the quiet baby. That explained a lot for me.

“And it does not end only at childcare but also housework”. ‘deji continued. “These are things an average man, especially one with a good job, would not do back home. But here, you either help out and run the home or there would be trouble because your wife alone can’t cope”

“Of course, she is also struggling. Back home, some of our women, especially those making money, do not even get involved in daily house chores. They simply pay to get it done.” Again, another round of nods as some of the British people looked on in amazement.

“As I looked on at this great divide in the room, I was glad I dragged myself to this meeting. It was a beneficial one to both parties. Your job revolves around #DEI. How can you engage successfully with someone you know nothing about their way of life?

How about the immigrant who has been repeatedly cautioned to be wary of their hosts because of XYZ and ABC? Was it not after all the empowering knowledge of lived experiences? It made Sharon reach out to help a young black father struggling with his distressed baby. Others like her looked on because they did not know which lines to cross.

The aim of these sessions is simple; build a bridge so we draw close enough. Ditch your binoculars, step across across the divide and view the scenery with the other person’s lenses.

of travels and worldviews

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I shuffled wearily into the hall and sat on the first sofa by the door. Camp was taking its toll on me.

The seat closest to the door was vacant and I made a beeline for it. A middle-aged female sat there. I plopped myself beside her. And as it happens, we eventually got talking.

She drove in to camp from the Netherlands with her mother.

“Netherlands?” That far? I thought #Newwineunited was only for people here in the UK”

“No. People come from all over”

“So where are you originally from?”

“Nigeria” I smiled wearily

” I hear it is beautiful” she observed

“Yes. I grimaced

“Are you alright?” she asked and I responded with a nod. “Just tired”

She told me her name. I cannot recall it.

“my name is amara” I replied

“Awww, what does it mean? and where is it from? “

“Grace” It is an Igbo name from the South-East of Nigeria.

“My daughter is Amana” she offered.

“Amana?” That is not English. Where is it from?”

“Hebrew. It means faithful”

“Interesting. It is also an Arabic and Hausa word” I mentioned

“Hausa is a language in northern Nigeria mostly populated by Muslims. So the etymology of their language is mainly Arabic same as Swahili.

“Really? what does it mean?” she was curious

“It means loyal, trust. It actually denotes something deeper like commitment. When you hand something over to someone and believe them accountable to keep that thing safe. Like Imani [faith]”

“Also used for betrayers as ka ci amana [you have eaten amana]. To hold someone accountable; na ba ka amana [I am giving you amana] and so on. As I described it; right then, it hit me that all my life I had associated the word figuratively like a tangible whereas it is also an intangible, I now realised.

“Wow, thank you amara. I had no idea the name was that widespread. I only knew it was a Hebrew name. So how come you know so much about languages?”

“I moved around a lot as a kid which equipped me”. I sighed in gratitude for my life’s trajectory which I always take for granted.

the fallacy of absolutes

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“The way coffee is consumed here is the same way we take soft drinks back home”   I pointed to a Coffee Shop as we walked through the Promenade.  “Except of course that Nigerians consume more than the other countries”

“Not true. The other countries consume more alcohol than us”.  Ruqqy replied.  We were walking from the Weekly Women’s Wellbeing session organised for vulnerable women by one of the Charities

“Which African country can you name that consumes more than us?”  I asked since population-wise, we are Africa’s biggest market.   Some countries could pass for one densely populated state in Nigeria.

“Togo people drink a lot of Alcohol” she responded

“Do you mean Pito? [a local beverage] I wanted to know.

“No, real Alcohol.   Their men are lazy and do not work.  They only stay outside and drink”  she surmised

“Did you live in Togo?”

“No.  Only saw them from the car as we drove past”

“So you have been to Togo?  I enquired

“I saw them drinking when we were driving past Lome to Abidjan. And the driver said that is how they drink from morning to night. That their men are lazy and start drinking from morning”

“Well, I have been to Togo regularly over the years.  I travelled the

A sign along the roads of Lome reminding citizens of the ECOWAS mandate.

ECOWAS corridor++ a lot and recall seeing the men through all the markets. 

Truthfully, one thing which struck me about them is that despite having such an expansive coastline, you only see the crowd at nights, not in the daytime. Unlike we and our Area boys who live on the beach”

“Moreover, if the men are lazy drunks then they are probably like some of us.  I recalled living in the Plateau as a teenager and their infamous Burukutu*+ parlours.  Within Nigeria, we still have tribes known for the indolence of their men who opt for alcohol over gainful labour”

A heap of coconuts at a streetside in Lome.

“We consume more than them because in addition to the carbonated and other local drinks we all make, they sell fresh coconuts which we do not” I argued

I saw them all through Benin, Ghana and even far-away Senegal.   Although there were hawkers with carbonated drinks like we have across Nigeria.”

“So how possible is it that they drink more than us?  I know they sell alcohol at garages like we do.  At least I saw them at Hilla-Kondji and at Seme*** I can not recall the Lagos Park at +*Aflao. 

At the Lome seaside.

What I recall of the Aflao border is that it is the neatest border among them all.  A big feat for a border which has the grand Marche Assigame** beside it   No hawkers around and it had this big Melcom superstore close by. 

And as Ruqqy confidently made those absolute statements, it struck me how we often are deceived by other people’s absolutes.

Here was someone with a second-hand report from a driver who most probably drives into the country; sits in his taxi and sleeps off until it is his turn to load for the return trip.  Yet, was passing down the statement like an absolute formed from experience.   However as we chatted,  vivid images tumbled across my head:

Visuals of the various time I had spent with the locals in the interiors.  

The male traders I encountered at the Asigame and Assiyeye+- markets.  The Nigerian traders up at dawn to start selling at the second-hand Assiyeye known as Biafran market. The Berber-Arabs with their shops all around town, and the Francophone-Hausa speakers I repeatedly sought help with when my rudimentary French failed me.

I saw myself strolling along the sun-kissed beaches where business only resumes After-hours.  And no cluster of men idling around

These clusters of men have all been grouped as ‘lazy’ by one driver whose circle of interaction is a subset of men drinking at the park.

And another person borrowed that narrative and ran with it cross-Atlantic. 

Now, can you imagine I was someone else without the lived experience of Togo?

Strolling through the Ghanian town of Aflao

How do you think her assertion could have shaped my views?  When next you are tempted to repeat unverified information about someone else as an absolute – pause and think of the damage you could inflict.

Notes:

  1. ++Ecowas Corridor is the stretch from Lagos to Abidjan.  Member countries have a treaty allowing for free movement of Peoples and Trade.  Which unfortunately is frustrated by most government agencies along that route. 
  2. *Burukutu is a staple drink of the Plateau people in Nigeria’s Middle Belt.  Brewed with fermented sorghum.
  3. ***Hilla-Kondji is the border between Benin and Togo. The only people-oriented border on that route where you can cross seamlessly. 
  4. ***Seme is the border in Lagos between Nigeria and Benin.  The most notorious on that route.  The notoriety and disorderliness of the Nigerian agencies ended up corrupting their Beninoise counterparts across the road.
  5. Aflao: border town between Togo and Ghana.  The next unfriendly border after Seme. From my experience, the Francophone borders are more humane than the Anglophones.
  6. +- Asigame is Togo’s largest international market in Lome. Similar to the Dantokpa market of Cotonou  while Assiyeye is another of their large market with a section where second-hand fashion items are resold thriftly. Majorly by Nigerian residents.  It attracts bulk buyers from Nigeria and elsewhere.  

Facing Challenges: Valuable Lessons from Kayaking for Life and Business

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This is a post from my Facebook archives. I shared it with my social media family during the summer of 2017. 

 

I am resharing as one of those days during Chemotherapy a friend called me up and reminded me of how inspiring I have always been.  Then shared this link.   I  represent it here six years later for 2 reasons:

  • As I read through, It hit me that even in a battle with the monstrous cancer, these lessons remain timeless.

 

  • And to see if my writing style has evolved over the years.



I spent last Saturday on the Lagos Lagoon during a Kayaking session.  You probably know that already if you follow me on Social Media.


It was a fun afternoon spent crossing another item off my list.

 

Oh, sure, I do have a list.  A list made up of fun things I want to do. Some of them I should have done earlier but I was shackled under the What-If fear.  You can call it a handbag instead of a bucket list afterall you can tote a bag around easily. 

 

Yeah, I was talking about my Kayaking venture.  

 

Dear reader, it was such an awesome experience.  I had so much fun.  Such unquantifiable fun and so many lessons kept popping up during that period that I marvelled at how I could glean such lessons while stuck in no man’s water.

Well, you know by now that whenever something pops in my head, I think of you to share. And because of that, I have made this list of these 10 lessons which you could apply to your life or business:

 

  • Face that fear: when the news about going on the deep waters broke in my Fitness Group, more people backed down from Aquaphobia than Moneyphobia.  It was good to see that people who could fly on air, put their bodies through all sorts of contortions, and run a self-imposed range of 5km to a full marathon could shy away from merely going to exercise on water.  [Honestly, after my surgery in the weeks preceeding chemo, I caught the fear bug]

 

  • Listen to an experienced hand: before we went on the water, we had a debriefing session.  The old man worked on our minds and prepared us for the adventure.  I asked the most questions of all and at a stage, one of the team members had to shush me that my questions were too much and fear-inducing.  But all I was doing was empowering myself with a SWOT analysis. He enunciated the things to look out for and how to behave at each circumstance.  He reinforced the reason why people topple over into the water and how to act if you do fall in. How to behave and sir it out when a bigger vessel roughens up the water and your boat is being tossed to and fro. [The hospital organised a course titled demystifying chemo. All through treatment, her head kept ringing in my head each time something new occurred]

  • When your Boat topples, stay afloat:   One of the fears most of us expressed was what to do in such an eventuality.  He said a simple thing – your body will be in the water but your head will keep bobbing thanks to the life jacket.  So all you had to do was assume the prayer position until help came.  We saw that play out when a guy toppled and had to remain like that until help got to him. Can your logical mind imagine a simple thing like palms together with face up will save your life?  So it also is in life where you  realize your boat will flip over once or twice on this journey. [During treatment, some days I fell into the water, other days I remained afloat]

 

  • Your response while inside the waters determines your survival.  Read the rest here
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Repurpose Your Pain

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The Japanese philosophy of wabi-sabi celebrates the transience and imperfection of life. It sees beauty where we see ugliness. Detour where we see a cul-de-sac. And from it derives the concept of Kintsukuroi – A word which urges us to accept failings and extend grace to ourselves and others. Kintsukuroi profoundly challenges our grasp of … Read more