A visionary...
- [one] who sees the future and then takes great risks to create it.
- a man of action whose master plan [does] not sit on his desk collecting dust.
- his goals [are] not merely theoretical, the work [gets] done.
~ Gbenga Daniel
Back in 2010, while standing in front of a plaque at the base of Olumo Rock in Nigeria, I was lucky enough to capture these words in a photograph. Now when I think about the end of 2011, and all that went into accomplishing a 5-week long "odyssey" through several major Nigerian cities (truly each one was its own adventure), I feel a humble sense of pride because the work. got. done. For the past two months, I've been getting back into the groove of being an American citizen and grinding overtime on new projects and resolutions. Without a doubt, the fuel for my present endeavors came from this trip.
On the first day of the trip, I made it a point to arrive in Lagos, Nigeria in the afternoon so that I could get plenty of rest before I was to travel from town to town like a madwoman. I stayed with an uncle from my Dad's side and was also accompanied by Mom, who tried to keep a watchful eye over my travel plans. I may have been in my mid-twenties but, according to her, I was still a "baby" in Nigeria. So, I had to do some finagling to make sure that I made it to Osogbo and Ibadan later in the week for my research. I spent 3 days in Osogbo, giving me plenty of time to visit the famed art galleries and the sacred forest. Let me tell you....the art in Nigeria is waaaaaaay underestimated...I mean the way some Nigerian painters pay attention to the details of the human (particulary African) physiology - without compromising for Western ideals - was amazing to see. I almost cried when I experienced this at the Nike Art Gallery on Old Ede Road. I wish I could post some pictures here, I'll just tell you to call the gallery and buy their work instead. After the visit to the gallery, I got a chance to observe her students at work in an open air studio. This was where students worked endless hours on their paintings, sculptures, and fabrics. On the day that I came, they were making "batik", a sort of tye and dye cloth with an added layer of candle waxed embroidery. With the batik technique, a person will dip a fat, pencil-like sponge into a pot of hot candle wax, then apply the wax as though working with a thin brush to create the desired design.
Fortunately, I can also post some fascinating pictures from the sacred forest in that same town:
I know this may sound strange, but these features really make the tree resemble a living human being who's seen many eras gone by.
I was to head straight to Ibadan in the middle of the week, but my Mom insisted on meeting me in Osogbo to take a detour. In the middle of the dark night, we drove for hours through bushes until we got to a remote town with majestic mountains. I was reluctant to go, but something told me to go ahead and be an observant companion. When we finally arrived at the location, it was in a akeshift town at the base of a "praying mountain". We took off our shoes at a certain spot, then continued climbing the mountain until we reached a plateau where many zealous Nigerian men and women were doing "prayer warfare", a term used to describe a very intense marathon of prayers on a variety of issues and wishes. It's not my particular style of praying (especially on a pitch black night in the middle of nowhere with strangers), but it was very fascinating to watch. I tried participating every now and then, but I honestly felt like my voice was futile compared with the other worshippers who were much louder and determined. We stayed over night in one of the prayer camp's on-site rooms and I remember thinking, "This was much more research than I anticipated doing." Truly, there's nothing like a detour to add a bit of spice to your journey.
(Sorry, no pictures here! Now, you know picture taking is not allowed in a place of worship...)
The next morning we headed for the University of Ibadan, where I was to meet with a professor there in both the political science and economics departments. U of I is probably Nigeria's most prestigious university. While looking for parking, we were given directions by an Igbo woman who was scouting for dormitories for her soon-to-be enrolled twins. She said they were only 16. (Prodigies in my mind but, perhaps, that's a normal age for many Nigerian children entering college. The education system there does tend to teach at a faster pace.) We invited her to have lunch with us and we all got to know each other better, especially herself and my Mom, whom she confided in about the difficulty of getting her husband to have the children join him in the United States. We've heard of the difficulties facing split, Nigerian families before. However, in this case, my Mom thought it wise for the woman to keep her children in Nigeria until they were fully grown adults. (She knew of the dangerous temptations many young Nigerian immigrants had already fallen victim to since the Great Nigerian Exodus of the 1980s and 90s.) We parted ways after lunch and I went to do a private interview with the professor.
The interview was deeply insightful. We discussed not only expatriates, but also the relationship between Nigerian citizens and their own government. According to the professor, "For most Nigerians, the government is an anachronism." He also tried to explain to me one of his theories, something called "ground strategy": the articulation of a people's desire and expectation for a common purpose and direction. This was something he believed Nigerians lacked due to tribalism (loyalty to one's ethnic group.) On the topic of the many young expats who have come to Nigeria in the past 5 years, he said, "People are too busy to notice the positions expats are taking in society." When I asked if these expats posed any kind of threat to longtime Nigerian citizens, he shot back with half a smile, "Nigerians are confident enough to make you feel inferior when you try to show that you are superior." I got a good laugh out of that one... After our interview , we left his office and we went downstairs to attend a graduate student lecture on the history of young male looters in the city of Ibadan. What was more interesting than the lecture itself, were the heated responses from some of the male Nigerian students. I could tell they had learned how to debate properly in secondary school because they were very good (and confident) at coming up with opposing arguments to spew at the lecturer, an enthusiastic scholar from Australia). What can I say? Nigerians like to argue.
On my last day in Ibadan, the professor was so gracious to set me up for an interview with a filmmaker/producer who taught in another department. My interview with him was fun. It was like hearing first hand from a Black Panther - the Nigerian version. This filmmaker was one of the original members of a political party created for social and economic reformation in Nigeria. Even though the party no longer exists, he continue its mission today through the production of films. At some point in our conversation, he spoke about a documentary project he is working on to reveal the experiences of Nigerian immigrants in Atlanta and I found it so interesting that he would would be traveling there to learn about Nigerians who came to America while I was here learning about Nigerians who came to Nigeria. Perhaps we'll run into each other in the States this month or next.
On my last day in Ibadan, the professor was so gracious to set me up for an interview with a filmmaker/producer who taught in another department. My interview with him was fun. It was like hearing first hand from a Black Panther - the Nigerian version. This filmmaker was one of the original members of a political party created for social and economic reformation in Nigeria. Even though the party no longer exists, he continue its mission today through the production of films. At some point in our conversation, he spoke about a documentary project he is working on to reveal the experiences of Nigerian immigrants in Atlanta and I found it so interesting that he would would be traveling there to learn about Nigerians who came to America while I was here learning about Nigerians who came to Nigeria. Perhaps we'll run into each other in the States this month or next.
That weekend, I came back to Lagos and tried to get to Lekki on Victoria Island so that I could speak diretly with expats. It didn't happen because I had no one to accompany me or even transport me. Alas, Monday came and it was time to go to Abuja.
I spent two weeks in Abuja where I conducted interviews with actual expatriates and participated in the wedding ceremonies (yes, there were two- one traditional and one Western) of one of my close cousins. My interviews were with the relative of a well-known Nigerian activist and then a male mathematics teacher at a British-sponsored school. We were dining at a very fine restaurant with some hoity-toity folks, so I just had to ask: Is life so much less expensive in Nigeria that they are able to afford such a luxury? Their answer surprised me. The relative of the activist said life was more expensive in Nigeria for expats because they try to maintain a Western standard of living. That made absolute sense to me. It reminded me of the many Nigerians who come to America and try to maintain their Nigerian standard of living. They just can't leave their native ways (food, clothing, language and all) behind. But, then I thought, "If an expat brings their Western ideals with them, what's the point of being in a different country? Because it easier to find work there?" The two expats replied that in fact, it was harder to find work because some upper-class Nigerian citizens already held tight connections to the job market and were adamant about not letting outsiders in. So, the struggle continues no matter what country you're in. Hmmm...
After my cousin's wedding and a party celebrating my birthday, I went to Ilorin. Ilorin was just about a desert. There was nothing to do but watch TV or eat and it was a great period to evaluate everything I had been through and discovered. Something exciting did happen, though. While driving on the road, I passed by a Nigerian actors' union! For any ordinary person, that would have been no big deal, but to me, it was very affirming. Seeing that union chapter's office, a real building, devoted to protecting the rights and advancing the opportunities for professional Nigerian actors made me believe that it was in fact possible to sustain an acting career here. It showed me that Nollywood wasn't just some magical film industry making profit today and only to be gone tomorrow. Can you imagine what kind of art actors could create being backed by a union that gives them dignity and validation?
After spending Christmas in Ilorin, my cousins and I drove back to Abuja for 10-12 hours. The drive was definitely eventful, but sharing the details would make this post waaaaaay too long. (It is already, isn't it?) This was my final week in Nigeria, and I was getting over a serious cough, one that had me bleeding through my nose some mornings. That's because it was Hamattan season, a period when the air gets very dusty and the winds get cooler than usual. Besides the fading cough, my stomach was also starting to behave itself. (I was having serious problems with digestion since I first landed in Nigeria.) This last week was the finally week of 2011 and, unfortunately, I had come back to Abuja the day after terrorists set off bombs at a local church. Subsequently, Christian Nigerians in town stayed at home on New Year's Day and did not attend churches. I was astounded by this. To many Christian Nigerians, New Year's Day is the most important day of the year (next to Easter) and this year was special because first day of the year landed on a Sunday. On January 1st, I couldn't believe my relatives were seriously not getting dressed to go to church . With no one to drive me, I stayed at home and tried to worship on my own. I don't think I did such a good job; I was too distracted by the silent fear in the air. The following day, I prepared to go to the airport and return to the States. My connection flight was cancelled, causing a major ruckus, but I got out of the country eventually. On the way back to New York, I truly felt like I was leaving behind a whole new world I had become accustomed to.
If I could sum up my odyssey in one word, it would be this: victory. Victory in learning more about Yoruba art, religion, and history. Victory in having sincere, fae-to-face conversations with expatriates (although I really should have spoken to more expats in cities other than Abuja). Victory in exploring more of the film industry in Nigeria (no trip yet to Surelere, Nigeria's version of Tinseltown. But I did catch a program about the key players in Nigeria's new theatre industry). And victory in receiving goodwill at the times that I needed it the most.
That's the thing I loved most about Nigeria: no matter how challenging things got, somebody always had my back. I rediscovered the meaning of family and realized that I am forever indebted to my native land.
Well...Here's to the rest of 2012, the odyssey it will bring, and to the continued discovery of what it means to be 1st generation (Nigerian) American.
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| Bed-Stuy Brooklyn - a sunset that greeted me the day after I returned to the U.S. from Nigeria. |
Notice: All photographs posted herein restricted by author's copyright.
