Of Commentaries, Reactions and Over-Reactions

In the BusinessDay of January 12, 2010

December 25, 2009: A Nigerian-born male, with secondary education in Togo and university education in London, said to have been radicalized during his university days in London, and to have been further radicalized in Yemen, attempted to detonate an ‘incendiary device’ that he had sown into his underwear before getting on a flight to Detroit. The situation was contained with the help of fellow passengers.

The flight originated from Amsterdam Schiphol airport, where the airport security failed to detect the said ‘incendiary device’.

The first reaction of the American Transportation Security Administration was to immediately announce a one-hour rule. This means, among other things, that nobody on a flight bound for the United States is allowed to leave their seat during the last hour of the flight, not even to go to the toilet.

Reacting to this, some commentators complained about how it seems that the US is playing catch-up with terrorists. They wondered whether terrorists would actually repeat their last failed tactic.

Shortly after the news of the Detroit terror attempt, there were debates in the media about whether or not a full-body scanner would have detected that there was some foreign article in the underwear, and if so, whether it would not be better to have full-body scanners in all airports. One should point out that now would be a good time to invest in the shares of companies that manufacture said scanners.

January 3, 2010: The American Transportation Security Administration declared Nigeria ‘a country of special interest’ and added it to a list of countries whose citizens would have to go through ‘enhanced screening’.

Commentators wondered whether it was really wise to alienate potential allies in the fight against extremist Islam, pointing out that Nigerians had done all they could to stop the situation, and that ultimately, it was American officials who dropped the proverbial ball.

Other commentators wondered at the generalization about a country from one isolated case, especially since there was nothing in the young man’s past to suggest that he had been radicalized, or had radicalized others, in Nigeria.

In reply to these, other commentators stressed the fact that Nigeria could be a hotbed of terrorism, especially because there have been what have been largely termed religious violence in the Northern part of the country. In counter-reaction, some pointed out that this is an overtly simplistic take on violent conflicts that are a lot more political than religious.

January 6, 2010: The Nigerian Senate gave the United States a seven-day ultimatum to remove the name of the country from the list. They threatened the severance of diplomatic with the United States if the United States refuses to remove the name of the country from the list.

On the same day, Mrs. Dora Akunyili, Information Minister and rebrander-in-chief of Nigeria, who had earlier tried – albeit unsuccessfully – to distance Nigeria from the young man with poor taste in underwear, said that the inclusion of Nigeria on the list had ‘the potential of undermining long-standing and established US-Nigeria bilateral ties and the goodwill the US enjoys in Nigeria’.

January 7, 2010: Barack Obama, the American President said, at a press conference, ‘we will not succumb to a siege mentality that sacrifices the open society and liberties and values that we cherish as Americans, because great and proud nations don’t hunker down and hide behind walls of suspicion and mistrust.’

Some commentators said that this was in reaction to those who said that United States was now suffering from a ‘siege mentality’ by introducing measures that some see as becoming, on the one hand, increasingly invasive of individual privacy, and on the other, increasingly isolationist.

Glaringly absent was any mention of the threat by the African superpower.

January 8, 2010: Mr. Michael Aondoakaa, Attorney-General and Minister of Justice of Nigeria, speaking on behalf of a president whose state of mind and health remain largely unknown, allayed fears of any confrontation. He said, ‘we cannot be talking about ultimatum at this stage.’ He also said that the two countries would avoid a potential face-off by resorting to diplomatic solutions to the issue.

To which Petrodollar-land heaved a sigh of relief.

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The need for an ethnography of the Nigerian financial sector

In the BusinessDay of January 5, 2010

Anthropologist Karen Ho carried out a seventeen-month-long fieldwork on Wall Street, interviewing and observing investment bankers. She first started out working as a rookie management consulting analyst in a hybrid investment and commercial bank. She planned to first work in finance herself for a while before going back to graduate school to study and write a dissertation on Wall Street culture. She got laid off after six months into her job. That experience of being laid off became one of the central things she studied during her fieldwork. The fieldwork formed the basis for her dissertation, which was published in 2009 as Liquidated: An Ethnography of Wall Street.

The book is not so much an indictment of Wall Street as it is a presentation of the way the Street understands its place in the scheme of things. She highlights the self-understanding of investment bankers as ‘being’ the market, an understanding that goes as far as to justify, on the one hand, receiving insanely huge bonuses, and on the other, being very liquid individuals themselves. The rate of staff turnover on Wall Street is extremely high.

Perhaps the most instructive point is the way Wall Street has changed corporate American culture in the past 25 years. Corporations, which were seen as part of the welfare capitalism of the post 2nd World War era, gradually lost their status as social institutions. Shareholder value has become naturalised as the sole reason for the existence of corporations. Therefore, anything that can improve shareholder value, no matter how short that increase in value lasts, is encouraged. This sometimes includes hostile takeover, and almost always demands massive job cuts and downsizing. Once corporations are no longer seen as social institutions that provide jobs and care for customers, those are rather easy things to do.

The emphasis on shareholder value has led to short-term thinking and has often robbed corporations of the ability to make long-term plans. Here is an example. If a group of investors buys up a company by leveraging that same company on the junk bonds market, with the plan to cut jobs in order to ‘improve’ the shareholder value of the company before selling it off, why would they make long-term plans for such company? This could happen to corporations that are healthy, all things – including shareholder value – considered.

This leads me to what is currently happening in the Nigerian banking industry. As we all know, the Nigerian Central Bank took over five banks last August. Shortly after, the Central Bank published a list of the banks’ debtors. One thing that has been under-played is the corporate practices of those banks during the Nigerian stock market bubble.

Actually, the practices of the banks were what created the bubble. Increasing their own shareholder value became the main job of the banks. Of course, in a weird way, this is understandable. Wall Street could claim to work on increasing shareholder value of corporate America; in Nigeria, the banking industry is corporate Nigeria. As Abimbola Agboluaje noted in his column in this newspaper a few weeks ago, banks were granting loans that were then spent on stocks, including theirs.

It is not by chance that it was after the bubble burst that the Central Bank took over the banks. Before then, the profits banks were declaring, plus their shareholder value, were highly manipulated figures that bore no relationship to the actual conditions of the banks. Now, they have to find a way to reconcile their balance sheet, somehow. The current cry in the Nigerian banking industry is that banks are laying off staff in droves and closing up branches. Those who are not laid off have to endure pay cut.

However, a lot still remain unclear. Once it seemed like a few heads had rolled the public felt pacified. The feeling of schadenfreude among the public was very palpable after the list of debtors was published. That is understandable, but the point is that the banks are not in trouble simply because they gave out too many bad loans.

One of the biggest strengths of anthropology is that anthropologists have a penchant for asking basic and simple questions, questions whose answers are sometimes assumed to be known, until they are asked. That was the attitude Karen Ho directed at Wall Street. Wouldn’t it be interesting to turn that kind of attitude towards the Nigerian financial industry?

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Rejecting the Normal

There is a thing about being so close to something that one does not see it anymore. Anthropologists normally refer to it as going native. You have gone native when you no longer see the obvious things anymore, when the things that an outsider notices stares you in the face but you are no longer able to see them. This is usually because you have developed a blind spot for them, and they have become normal, almost natural.

There is also the other kind of blind spot, the kind that comes from being native. Anthropologists know about that too very well. Since we study people, we know that studying people of ones kind comes with the added requirement of being able to stand back and look critically in order to see things that would be obvious to foreigners, but that are not obvious to the native.

This is because we anthropologist normally study the everyday mundane things; we try to understand how people live their lives, how people make sense of things, understand, interact and deal with day to day issues. Sometimes something impressive and unusual happens; most times they don’t.

Unlike history, anthropology favours the everyday. History, on the other hand, is not very kind to the ordinary. Journalism too. News is a break from the ordinariness of the day, that is why no news is good news. It normally means that the day has been, well, normal. Of course, one can debate what normal means.

These things came to my mind after reading an Amnesty International report on police brutality in Nigeria. They report on the frequency of extra-judicial killings, on torture, on the refusal of counsel to detainees, and on the refusal to allow those who have been injured during torture access to doctors.

To underscore this, let me give an instance. When I was a teenager, I was at a hospital when a police pick-up van drove up, legs sticking out of the back of the van. They brought the naked, dead bodies of six persons to the hospital morgue. I remember wondering whether those people might have left home that morning not realising that they would turn up as bodies at the back of a police van. I don’t remember thinking about how they died and questions around justice or the use or abuse of police powers.

The Amnesty report gives detailed examples of people who have left home to be shot down by the police in the course of the day. To be fair, one has to acknowledge the fact that the police is massively underfunded and probably underpaid. It has almost become normal for the police to never come, or, like the lines of a Tracy Chapman song, to always come late, if they come at all.

And those who look like they might have some better training are busy guarding ‘important dignitaries’ (read those who are rich enough) and foreigners. I recently read about a foreigner who complains about being followed around by her MOPOL escort. Her employer does not allow her to leave the Island area without a team of MOPOL escorts. Of course she cannot refuse them, otherwise the company would not let her stay in the country. The interesting thing is that the sight of guarded foreigners actually promotes the impression that ones life is in mortal danger if one does unless you are being guarded by specially trained policemen.

We have become blind to a lot of these things because we are used to them, because they have become part of us. We have become used to our commuter bus drivers handing out that note to the policeman at the roadblock, to reading in the newspaper about a number of extra-judicial killings by the police, to hearing about ‘accidental discharge’. We are also used to the sound of a certain kind of hoot in heavy traffic, a hoot that signifies that an important dignitary is being ferried across in an important car, escorted by a van-full of MOPOL. Of course, the main reason the person is important is because they are a foreigner. We are so used to these things that we have become numb to them.

We must begin to rouse ourselves out of this complacency and ask questions. Are bribes openly given to or extorted by the police and extra-judiciary killings normal in a democracy? What is the government doing about them? Will any political party make them campaign issues in 2011?

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Who needs a president ? – A Proposal for an NSP

Nigeria is not known as a country that has contributed a lot to the development of democracy, what with very many years of dictatorship and all. But the Athens-born mode of governance might just be getting a big make-over from the state of affairs in Nigeria.

If the way Nigeria has been run in the past few weeks is anything to go by, it seems that there is really no need for a country to have a president. Don’t get me wrong, I think the presidency is an institution that is extremely important. It provides a lot of jobs for a lot of people. Maybe at a later stage of our evolution, Nigeria can make another big leap for democratic governance, totally eradicating the presidency.

For now, the office of the executive stays, only the post of the president would have to go. Really, we have not had a president in the country for close to a month now and the country has been running perfectly well. It has been mediocrity as usual. Except that every so often, members of the legislature turn up to give different reasons for the vice president not to deputise in the absence of the president. In the new scheme of things, that post too will have to go.

What to do with the post of the president? Well, we will need a symbol that everybody can rally around and identify as our symbol of the presidency. I nominate football.

The ‘beautiful game’ has been suggested on several occasions as the most unifying factor in Nigeria. Forming a national football team is one instance in which people do not insist on ‘national character’, that very interesting principle that very often sacrifices merit for the imperative of including someone from every state in the country in government agencies.

Add to that the idea that the ball is always surrounded by so many people at the same time. The ball, for these reasons and many more (which we cannot go into because of space limitations), qualifies as the NSP – National Symbol of the Presidency, the acronym that is to replace the title President.

I do not wish to deviate too much from the familiar, so I will advise that the colour of the ball be what we know well. We already have green and white as our national colours, so we can have the ball coloured green and white. No, not green white green, but green and white. In cuboids, like the colours of a regular ball. Somewhere in the center of the whites of the cuboids the acronym NSP will be written.

It is well known that the National Assembly can meet wherever the mace is. In the same line the Federal Cabinet can meet wherever the ball – the NSP – is present. The NSP will be placed on a special seat at the head of the table, where the president would normally sit. The special seat will be high so that the ball can comfortably preside over the meeting of the cabinet from an elevated position. We are all familiar with the idea that a person whose head cannot be seen above the table might not command as much respect as his authority might require. Same with the NSP. The ball has to sit comfortably well above the top of the table.

I know that my detractors might be wondering how a symbol would attend international meetings and speak on behalf of a country. Well, we can have the Secretary to the Federal Government (SFG) do the speaking – under the condition that the NSP is right in the position it deserves as the National Symbol of the Presidency whenever the SFG is speaking. If this plan sails through – and I think it will – other countries will start choosing their own National Symbol of the Presidency. The United States might go for the baseball, which would make Nigeria a lot bigger than them. And good old Cuba could go for the baseball stick, which would mean that for once, they can really bash the USA.

That, I think, is one thing that (1) the absence of a president in Nigeria, (2) the lack of any confusion despite that fact, and (3) the efficient running of the country despite all that, can teach the world about democracy. We have shown them that you simply do not need a president

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Shades of Black

In the BusinessDay of December 15, 2009

Recently, we got the news in Germany that the most famous German investigative journalist dyed his hair dark and painted himself black in order to experience what it means to be black in Germany. The reaction of the Black German community was simple: they found his treatment of the issue very distasteful and simplistic.

According to an article in Der Spiegel, the main problem was that in the entire movie, there was no discussion with black people about their own experience of everyday racism. This was a point that infuriates many Black Germans; their point is that he should have at least – if not instead – spoken to black people about their experience and let them speak for themselves. A spokesperson of the Initiative of Black People in Germany told Der Spiegel, ‘As is so often the case, someone is speaking for rather than with us.’

This issue came up in a discussion I had a couple of days ago with a black American here in Philadelphia. He too told me about everyday racism in America.

While I was in New York a few days ago, I observed many black people around Grand Central Station and Times Square, people who looked like they were in really bad shape. A Nigerian who lives in Philadelphia (you have to understand that there is a difference between an African and a Black American) told me that a walk downtown in any major American city would show the disproportionate number of black people who are homeless, relative to other ethnic categories. Many walk up to passers-by to beg for money.

Different studies have shown that there is an overwhelming proportional majority of black people in American prisons. Apart from the fact that racial tension that is most often bottled up explodes once in a while, there are issues of institutional racism. As an example, Charles M. Blows, a New York Times op-ed columnist, points, in a recent column, to the fact that the current financial crisis has dealt an especially harsher blow on blacks in comparison with other ethnic demographies. He cites a research report on the subprime mortgage problem: ‘blacks were the most likely to get higher-priced subprime loans, leading to higher foreclosure rates.’

This is in the face of America’s first black presidency. Indeed, Mr. Blows observes that there seems to be a backlash of sorts. As he points out, there are more and more evidence of overt racism in the country, evidenced by the increase in hate crimes. Google searches also seem to bear this out. The internet search company has even issued an advert that is partly an apology and partly an explanation of the technology that makes certain images of certain persons appear higher on the search list.

The easy thing to do is to blame Black Americans for their plight. Some Black Americans describe this as ‘tough love’ – the attitude and belief that it is the fault of black people for not lifting themselves out of poverty. The argument of Black Americans who are against ‘tough love’ is that one needs to consider the rigged structure that produces such outcomes. In other words, institutional racism is very often responsible for the preponderance of blacks in American prisons, for instance.

I do not live in the US – I am only here on a short visit – and I cannot begin to pretend that I have more than an anthropologist’s first impressions. I do however find it disheartening not only that the world’s richest country has a lot of homeless people, but that most of the homeless belong in one category.

This whole experience reminds me of an episode at a programme on Cultural Diplomacy that I attended in Berlin. After a talk by the ambassador of Lesotho to Germany, a Black American who was in the audience stood up to ask a question about what African countries think of the racial inequality and discrimination in the United States of America. He specifically asked whether African countries are thinking of possible ways of assisting other black people around the world.

My response to him would be that racial inequality is not limited to the borders of particular countries. It stretches across the globe, and has often resulted in Africa being imagined as the Other of the European/American/White Self. Besides, how could African countries even begin to think of doing anything about racial inequality within the borders of countries they hope will give them one form of assistance or the other?

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On Pride and the Budget

In the BusinessDay of December 1, 2009

Sometime ago, in a forum of Nigerians, someone said that he did not know whether to be proud to be a Nigerian.  The response:

“How dare you say you might not be proud of Nigeria? That is the kind of thing that makes other countries dump on us! When they hear that someone like you [a very well educated young many] is saying something like that how do you want them to feel about your country? Nigeria is a land flowing with milk and honey [and a country of people who love biblical references], and every Nigerian should be proud of his or her country!”

The young man realised that he had got more than he bargained for. He smiled tiredly and said, ‘See, what I meant was that I can only be proud of what I have achieved or attained. I was born a Nigerian, so why should I be proud of being one?’

True, our young man has quite some things to be proud of – in the manner of the things he says one should be proud of. Masters degree from an American Ivy League university, where he studied with a scholarship not awarded by the Nigerian government. Maybe if the government had paid for the education he would have had a reason to be proud of being a Nigeria.

The people in the audience broke out into small discussions after our young man said that. The discussions were about whether achievements should be what a person is proud of, or whether there were some other things that one could be proud of beside achievements. The discussion went silent after about a minute – you know that kind of silence that we attribute to the fact that an angel of God ‘just’ went through the room?

A voice rang out from the middle of the room, ‘We Africans should be proud of our countries. In fact, we should be unconditionally proud of our countries’. One of those rare occasions when statements and declarations do not need to be substantiated.

A few heads nodded. Those that did not nod kept quiet. This was not the forum for contrarianism. Before anybody could brave it and start a discussion on the dictionary meaning of pride, the moderator moved in and changed the topic.

As this ran through my mind, I was reminded of a BBC Hardtalk interview with Mr Dimeji Bankole, the speaker of the House of Representatives. When the interviewer, Mr Steven Sackur, described him as the speaker of the lower chamber, the speaker, his pride obviously wounded, retorted, ‘I am the speaker of the House of Representative. We don’t like to be called lower’.

Let me try and analyse this based on the discussion in that forum of Nigerians. Like the young man who did not find any reason to be proud of Nigeria, Mr Bankole has really good education – you should have watched the interview to hear him speaking Oxbridge English. Plus he is the speaker of the Nigerian House of Representative, how could anyone not be proud of that kind of achievement? I suppose those are things he and our young man would agree that one should be proud of.

Although, unlike our young man, he would be proud of being a Nigerian, a citizen of the land flowing with milk and honey.  He might even subscribe to the idea that one has to be proud of Nigeria simply because.

But then, pride sometimes results in laughable moments, even if they are laughable simply because they are ludicrous. This last week, Mr Umaru Yar’Adua was to present the budget of the country to the National Assembly, with members of both houses of legislature gathered in the House of Representatives. The senators disagreed. The budget should be presented in the Senate, they said.  Maybe some senators watched the Hardtalk interview and realised that this would mean that Mr Bankole was right, and that the House of Representatives was indeed not the lower chamber?

In any case, the budget was not presented to the National Assembly. Because pride was bruised and the two houses could not agree on where to sit and watch the president present a budget. Hmm… what kind of pride would that be? Maybe a close relative of the kind that the ancient Greeks described as hubris?

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Africa after 1989

In the BusinessDay of November 9, 2009

In Africa, generally, the left-right political divide does not make much sense. I do not remember the last time I heard of a Nigerian political party with meaningful social democratic ideals. I have instead listened to populist politicians talk about how they would make education, health care, and social welfare available to all, without saying anything about the sacrifice that would have to come with that.

Perhaps the only semblance of that divide to be found in the recent past is in the parties created by General Babangida. You remember Social Democratic Party and National Republican Convention? Despite the ‘official’ ideologies of the parties, anybody who knew anything about their members knew that they were all cut from the same cloth. That is aside from the fact that they were artificially created, state-sponsored, parties.

We had our own 1989 in Africa. It started in Benin. Mathieu Kerekou’s military regime put out a press release a few weeks after the Berlin Wall came down. The regime declared that Marxism-Leninism was no longer going to be the official ideology of the state. A National Conference followed a few months later in February 1990. Other countries, mostly from Francophone Africa, also convened national conferences – Congo in February 1990, Gabon in March 1990, Zaire (now DRC) in February 1991, Togo in July/August 1991, Niger in July 1992, and Chad in January 1993. These countries were in a fiscal mess by then.

Enter Structural Adjustment Programme.

Washington Consensus, a term coined in 1989, started reigning supreme. The way countries in fiscal nightmares and economic woes could get out was by the adoption of structural adjustments programmes sponsored by the Washington-D.C-based, Bretton Woods institutions, the World Bank and the IMF. Under structural adjustment programmes, the first thing that had to go was as much of government spending as possible. Privatisation of government-owned companies and the deregulation of government-controlled sectors followed. If these were not done, the states would not get help from the Bretton Woods institutions.

African states were advised to withdraw from the provision of social services. In actually fact, by then, they could not afford to provide those services anymore, due to the inefficiency of the government, and/or corruption. It was not only communism that lost when the Wall fell; like Ian Buruma rightly pointed out in a recent article, social democrats lost the Marxist ideological basis for the ideals they were promoting.

It was also about then that the World Bank discovered that ‘civil society’ could be a vehicle for development. Defined in the most inclusive sense, civil society included non-governmental organizations. Development aid for the ‘people’ was channeled through them, the ‘third sector’. If one could not get a job with the government or a private company, one either started an NGO if one was resourceful enough, or one went to work for one.

Things first became much worse, especially with the withdrawal of the state from the provision of many social services. But people adjusted; and then things got better. Companies that were ‘properly’ privatized did not perform much worse than private companies in the developed world. Same with companies that were started in deregulated sectors of the economy.

The loss of the moral basis of socialist ideals along with the fall of the Wall meant that the death of the African Welfare State was without even a whimper. Francis Fukuyama called it The End of History. States learnt that they either jumped on the bandwagon of neo-liberal policies or go the way Zimbabwe went soon after.

In Africa of today, we have a wide range of states – from rentier states to client states – all with a more or less capitalist outlook, most pseudo-democratic. Totalitarian states of the 80s had to look for ways to legitimize their rule by adopting a semblance of multi-party democracy.

Today, poverty and lack of security are still huge problems; corruption is still a major issue; public infrastructure is in a mess. Africa needs progressive, modern, outward looking democratic states. If that is the kind of state we want, this is a good time to have a debate on what their role should be.

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How I became a Nigerian

In the BusinessDay of November 3, 2009

I was not a Nigerian until I lived outside Nigeria. Let me explain.

The realization that I am Nigerian hit me right between the eyes when I went to study in Sweden. Apart from the fact that I was a foreigner, that is. Foreigner I was prepared for. The reason I chose to go to Sweden to do an MA in Development Studies was not only because it is in one of the most developed countries in the world (UNDP and World Bank data); it was also because it was far away, and promised new discoveries. It was foreign, so I expected to be a foreigner.

That expectation still did not help much when I was confronted with just how foreign I was. First of all, I realized that I was in a very white country. Sweden in particular and the Nordic world in general is very white. Unlike France, Britain or the Netherlands, they do not have a history of colonization, so they have not had a large population of foreigners living there for as long as say France.

Plus there is something about the self that makes one look out for others with ones’ identity markers. Therefore, I noticed, walking down one of the busiest roads in Uppsala, Sweden, that I could not find any other black face.

The first thing I ‘became’ was a black person. Not long after, I became African.

It did not take me too long to meet other Africans. Some of them were students like me, others asylum seekers. Scanning those faces on my first walk down the Uppsala road was not for fun. I knew that I would need help ‘getting into’ the country, and who else to help one get in smoothly than one who might have had the same experiences as one? And how to tell that someone is like one if not by their looks?

The Africans I met helped me quickly transform myself from a black person into an African. It would have been different had it been Berlin, where I now live. The black face could either be an African or an American GI (America has military bases in Germany). I do not need to point to the different treatments one might receive if one were either of the two.

In any case, in Uppsala, I became an African. Till now, the story has been about me and people who look like me. Let me add to the mix the subtle things that made me an Other to the Swedish Self. First is the process of being made into the other. Simple things like being spoken to in English and not Swedish, although very welcome, meant that they ‘knew’ that I was not a Swede. That is if the way I looked did not already give that away. Or the fact that one of my housemates asked me, after he had had one bottle too many, whether we have roads in Africa. That seals it, right? How much more other can one be if one does not even have roads? Well, you can also add the issue of living on trees. That came later.

But the moment I became Nigerian was the moment one person asked where I was from and I replied Nigeria. I noticed the change on his face and asked what the matter was. He replied that there was a time their media warned them against Nigerian mails – 419 letters. That was what Nigeria was for him, a country from which scam letters and emails originate. I patiently explained to him that Yes, a few Nigerians are involved in it, but No, not all Nigerians are; they were only a few. From then on, I had to deal with the annoying fact of having to explain this to people. The fact that one out of every five African is a Nigerian became part of the arsenal. If one is not careful, one could end up living ones life defending one’s Nigerian self.

All the aforementioned could happen in the space of one day, or even a few hours.

Therefore, when one finds that it is Nigerians outside the country who fight the strongest against the negative portrayal of Nigerians in the global media – in adverts, movies or in the news – it is because they are the ones who have to deal with the effects of that portrayal.

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Chinese in Africa

In the BusinessDay of October 27, 2009

The most popular way of looking at China in Africa is through the dual lenses of international relations and international trade. One main argument that comes out of this is that, the way China does business in Africa has made the countries that are pushing some African countries to do better on human rights and governance issues to start re-considering doing so. The simple reason being that China’s ‘no strings attached’ policy means that Chinese business interests are not coloured with any desire to change the way African governments run their countries.

The effect of this is that many countries that see that sanctions which are imposed against African countries do not really deprive the countries of funds are re-thinking the wisdom of depriving themselves of raw materials. What is the point when money comes from China anyway?

Another argument that comes out is in relation to the use of Chinese labour in construction sites in Africa. A case in point is that of railway constructions in Angola, a country that suffers from high levels of unemployment. A couple of years ago, the BBC reported popular discussions by Angolans that Chinese workers are nothing but prisoners, especially because they never leave their camps. When asked why his company does not employ Angolans, a Chinese factory owner in Luanda says, ‘African people, they don’t like work too much, they like relax’. He goes on to say that his workers work for ten hours a day, while Angolans work for only eight.

I find the racist-tinged comments of the factory owner distasteful, to say the least. The money paid out to governments by Chinese companies is not for development – anybody who has followed the discourse on aid knows that much; the stuff of development is employment. It is when people have the dignity of earning their own wages, of being able to provide for their families, that one thinks of development. It is extremely dissatisfying to note that Chinese companies are allowed to bring in their labour from China, even the unskilled ones.

What could one expect? On the larger scale, I would not really expect much of a change in Chinese activities in Africa. After all China’s growth, which feeds much of the world’s appetite for cheap goods, has to continue to be fuelled by raw materials, even in a post-recession world. And producers of Chinese cheap goods have to continue looking for new consumers, hence Africa. What one would hope for is that African governments are smart enough to get better deals for their citizens.

But then, this assumes that the people who run African governments consider the interest of their citizens. This is one issue in which one would have to wait and react to each situation as it arises. General statements that are couched in moralistic terms confuse much more than the sentiments that back them might intend.

One must however note that things are gradually changing. A colleague who does research in Angola says that there are now provisions that foreign companies operating in Angola have to employ Angolans, not only for low-skilled works, but also in managerial positions. What I still do not understand is why Chinese companies are allowed to bring in unskilled labour. That truly baffles me.

However, of all the considerations of Sino-African relations, the level at which I find it most interesting is the level at which Chinese and African individuals meet and interact – or not. While I was doing research in Benin, I saw many Chinese traders who have very little interactions with Beninese people. There are some who have lived in Benin for five year but speak no French. I see how Chinese store owners bring their Chinese workers with a bus to the shops, bring them home-cooked Chinese lunch at work, and generally frown at anything outside simple buy and sell interactions with Beninese.

My opinion is that things will change over time, as the Chinese find that they are not just in Africa for a few years, and that they might end up staying for longer than they initially thought. One sees these days, for instance, that Chinese businessmen are not just in the construction, extractive and financial industries, but also trade. I would be interested in knowing how this relationship changes and develops over the next few years. It sounds like a great Ph.D topic. Any takers?

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On Religious Tolerance

In the BusinessDay of October 20, 2009

Sometime a couple of years ago, during the Christmas season, I was at a bank in Ibadan with a friend. A man came into the bank sometime after us with three children. My friend looked at the kids who were busy tossing a filled balloon over their heads and asked if I still felt the thrills of Christmas. I remembered, at that moment, how I used to feel whenever Christmas approached.

The Christmas season was a time for ‘Aso Odun’ – cloth bought to be worn on Christmas day. It was also time for a few new toys. Thinking about it now, I wonder how it came to be that a major feature in the Christmas presents package was a toy gun – water or dart toy gun. I always looked forward to it. When we were much younger, we all wore ‘anko’. We would be dressed in the same fabric, sown in the same style, for Christmas day. I remembered how much I hated it. After a while that stopped and we simply had Aso Odun, which could be anything, as long as it was bought to be worn on Christmas day.

I turned to the oldest of the children who came to the bank and asked whether he was looking forward to Christmas. He replied Yes. My friend said that he didn’t have that old thrill any more. I said the same thing for myself. The man who brought the children to the bank said that he still looked forward to the Christmas season, not because of Christmas itself, but because it was a time for family members who have been away from home for a while to go to their villages and see their family.

This reminded me of Germany. I had learnt that Christmas is a very family affair. People go home to their families and have a family dinner together.

The man went ahead to say that his father was a Muslim but that he himself had converted to Christianity. He said, however, that he continued the tradition of going back home during the Eid el Kabir celebrations to kill a ram for his Muslim family members.

My friend pointed out that this was due to a very important element of the Yoruba traditional religious system, something that Yoruba people have managed to carry on to when they adopted Christianity and Islam. In the Yoruba traditional religious system, one could have each member of the same family worshipping a different god, without any person persecuting, or even trying to convert another. That, my friend said, was a great indication of tolerance. It, my friend continued, informed why the man we met at the bank still gave presents to the members of his family who were still Muslims, during an Islamic ceremony.

I was reminded of this at a talk by J.D.Y Peel a few days ago. He is an eminent anthropologist of Yoruba Christianity and Islam. His talk was about Yoruba Islam. Through a brilliant presentation of the modern history of Yoruba Islam, he showed the co-existence of Christianity and Islam, the issues that tied and continue to tie them together and that has made them co-exist peacefully. He also showed the different ways they have borrowed from each other, and the ways they have adapted their rhetorics to each other’s rhetorics over the decades. To be sure, there have been conflicts, but none has escalated to the point of attracting much attention.

The fact that there is often inter-marriage between the faiths is also another very interesting point. I remember how shocked my grandmother was when she learnt that my aunt’s husband was converting to Christianity. He was born and brought up a Muslim, and my grandmother, a Christian, could not understand why he would want to convert to Christianity. My grandmother quickly ascribed this to faulty upbringing.

Like my friend with whom I went to the bank in Ibadan, I think this tolerance is due to the history of tolerance in Yoruba traditional religion. As we all know, many things that are Yoruba and considered traditional are disappearing. I hope that the tolerance that allows this kind of peaceful living does not disappear along with other things that we can see and feel disappearing.

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