The (Mis)Education of the Nigerian Elite
Awon Money Miss Road
Oh how it must be nice to drive the streets of Abuja in a red Lamborghini with a stash of Benjamins in the glove compartment and wearing a pair of Ray Bans to protect your precious eyes from the harsh rays of the sun. No seriously. Imagine it. Really let yourself sink deeply into this thought. So alluring right? I bet the air already smells fresher wherever you are as this thought fills your mind.
Now open your eyes. You are back on the streets of Lagos, the smell of pungent urine fills your nostrils and you are walking in the hot sun, sweating like the masses while hawkers pedal the streets and clouds of carbon monoxide fill the air. I can tell you would rather close your eyes again to escape this reality. But indulge me here as I tell you this. Did you know that there’s a subset of Nigeria’s elite that seems to be growing at an alarming rate? The members of this group seem to be…how do I put this politely? Uncultured, uncultivated, miseducated. Awon money miss road ¹ if you will. Now I’m not discouraging anyone from making stacks and stacks of cash. Hell, I’d like that for myself too. But friends, we should aim to not be misguided into this subset group. There’s the elite and there’s the miseducated elite. There’s a difference.
Now picture yourself back in your Lamborghini, pulling up to a 5-star restaurant. The smell of fine dining penetrates the room. After small talk with the people on your table, the plate of the food you ordered but can’t pronounce, Paupiette and Rocky Mountain Oysters is placed in front of you. You are not sure whether this is food that is culturally eaten with cutlery or with hands. You decide to wing it and use your hands to demolish the beautiful array of meat and bulls testicles on your plate. There is silence. Slowly but surely, one, two…and finally all the faces surrounding you stare at you in bewilderment. Now snap out of it! We don’t want you thinking like the miseducated Nigerian Elite, do we? In case you missed it, the table has officially been shaken.
Case Study #1
It’s Saturday. 4:45pm. After leaving the movie theater, Biola decides to drive to her favorite shoe store, Shoetique, to purchase the pair of shoes that caught her eye a week earlier. She hoped that the dazzling pair would still be there as she has been picturing herself in them all week. Luckily the shoes are still on display. She hurriedly picks up the pair and proceeds to stand in the long line, as she waits to pay.
“Ello, Ello, can you “ear” me?” she hears a man behind her back in between heavy breaths, with an H-factor² as thick as gravy.
Surprised at the man’s brazenness, she turns swiftly around and notices that the man is decked in a white agbada³, gold rings on four fingers and shiny black leather shoes. Why so formally dressed? She thought . A Yoruba Demon⁴, she concluded, as she turned back around. His voice trailed off then suddenly, “Bond street. Bond Street, yes I went there to buy my cufflinks last Christmas. Can you “himagine” “hi" bought them for £1,000. For “hordinary” cufflinks o! But you know, one must “halways” look presentable." His voice trails off again, then “Hi will let you know when you can rent. My two houses “hat” Piccadilly circus “ha” being renovated at the moment”.
“Nah you biko Chairman!” she hears the voice on the other end of the phone say. She shakes her head in disbelief, wondering why it is necessary for the whole store to know about his two houses at Piccadilly circus and his visit to Bond Street. She reaches the front of the line, pays for her shoes and walks out, baffled at the miseducation of this Nigerian Elite.
Side note: Biola is an investment banker and realtor who has properties all over Lagos and is currently negotiating a multi-million dollar real estate deal in Paddington, an exclusive street reserved for people only with more than 7 figures in their bank accounts. She is part of the elite, but not the miseducated elite.
Case Study #2
No. 1 Maduike Street, Ikoyi Lagos. Residence of Chief MacArthur Coker, a distinguished lawyer and senior advocate of Nigeria. His wife is currently in New York visiting her sister. His three children; Ayomide, Segun and Franka are at schools located at Ohio, Edmonton and York respectively. His last child David is studying upstairs for his WAEC examinations, suddenly the doorbell rings.
“Good evening uncle Leke" David said, as he opened the door for his dad’s close friend of 30+ years.
“Ah ah, David you’re a big boy now o, the last time I saw you, you were yay high" his uncle Leke said, exposing his wide gap teeth and placing his hands next to his knees.
Chief Coker, a heavyset man walks downstairs and welcomes his friend. As the afternoon turned into evening, they drank Guinness, watched CNN and discussed politics.
“Eh heh, that reminds me, when is Sope supposed to be back? Is she not tired of staying at her sister’s house?” Mr. Leke asked.
“She’s due back next week" Mr. Coker responded.
By this time, David was sitting at the dining table across the sitting room where the two men were. His eyes were glued to his textbook but his ears listened closely to their conversation because he knew that a competition of some sort was about to ensue.
“So where is Franka studying now?”
“Edmonton"
“Oh is that so. Tina, you know Tina nah⁵, my youngest. She just started school in Boston.”
“How nice. What school and what is she studying?”
Mr. Leke took a deep breath as he said, “Can you imagine, she said she wants to study mass communication? What kind of rubbish is that? Is that what I will be paying thousands of dollars for?”
David continued to listen, wondering what was wrong with mass communication.
“Well Franka is studying law. She got a high SAT score, so it was a natural fit.”
“Actually Tina is now studying medicine. She told me she doesn’t like blood but I believe it’s just a phase. What did Franka score in the SAT?”
“1350"
“Tina scored 1430"
David interjected, “But daddy you know Franka has always wanted to be a screenwriter”
“Will you sharap my friend! Always trying to join adult discussions” his father yelled.
David remained silent as the men competed for the “most prized child" Classic case of the miseducation of the Nigerian Elite, David thought, as he flipped the pages of the textbook he was reading.
Case Study #3
It’s the season of owambes⁶ in the bustling city of Lagos. Martin has just scored an invite to the wedding of his friend, the son of the deputy governor of Oyo state. The wedding reception is to be held at Oriental hotel, a lavish building that overlooks the crashing of waves that flow into the Atlantic.
He is caught in two minds. Stay at home to watch his favorite team, Manchester City play live at the Premier League or go to the wedding. He decides to forfeit watching the game and drives to Oriental.
He arrived while bottles of Dom Perignon and plates of jollof rice, peppered snails, swallow⁷ and nkwobi⁸ were passed around the hall.
The entrance of the couple is announced and the new husband and wife proceed to the stage while the MC continues to crack dry jokes.
Martin then notices something peculiar. The attention begins to shift from the couple (the reason the guests are there in the first place) to the big ogas and madams⁹ present. By the end of the day, he has become a bystander as he concludes that the event is an ostentatious affair, a charade and a pretentious display of wealth rather than a celebration of love.
It is 9pm and he’s exhausted. He drives home and thinks deeply about the blatant show of the miseducation of the Nigerian elite he just witnessed and about how he should have just stayed home to cheer for Manchester City instead.
Case Study #4
Unlike the previous cases mentioned above, I stumbled on this case by accident while working on another article. I was interviewing a friend of a friend for said article at her house in Surulere, when I noticed something odd. Mid-interview, my interviewee stood up abruptly from her chair and dashed into the kitchen (maybe for a snack? Who knows). She noticed that the kitchen had not been swept clean.
“Chinonso! Chinonso!” she screamed
“Yes ma" a little girl of not more than twelve answered as she raced down the steps. Her hair was shaven and she looked skinnier than average.
She was summoned into the living room, where the interview occurred. The room was surrounded by floor-to-ceiling windows and decorated with ornaments from home and abroad. I know this because she did not fail to let me know about the time she visited the Shibuya crossing of Tokyo and fished with the fishermen of Maine to attain such sacred ornaments. You could smell the opulence in the air.
“Why did you not sweep the kitchen?”
“Ma…” but before she could say another word, she was slapped hard across the face. Twice.
The interview proceeded but my thoughts drifted to that little girl. With some persuasion and without her madam’s knowledge of course, we got to know each other a little better. She told me her story and I told her mine. As the weeks went by, I gave her an old notebook to write her story in her own words. Thankfully, she agreed.
Tuesday, April 4th 2018. I remember the day was cloudy and chilly. No, not chilly as in cold, chilly as in frightful, dreadful, unpleasant. Catch my drift? You are probably surprised that a poor house girl speaks good English but believe it or not, some of us do exist. I am sixteen, not twelve, like auntie thought. I probably appear twelve to her because of my small stature but that’s how I was born. My parents are both small in size and short in height.
Without a plan of how I was going to pay for university, my eyes were set on IMSU (Imo State University). I decided to take the jamb exam anyway. One day, on April 4th 2018, on my way to the jamb exam hall, my parents who were living from hand to mouth, summoned me inside the hut that they shared with my three brothers, two sisters and I. With tears in my mother’s eyes she asked that I pack my things and go with the woman who was sitting in our hut to Lagos. According to my mother, she was wealthy and she promised to see to it that I complete my studies. I always try to forget that day, the day I left my parents unwillingly.
That was two years ago and I have not seen the four walls of a classroom since.
I will not waste time to narrate to you the suffering, beatings and torment that continue to haunt me, like they do in Nollywood. Sometimes I wish this is Nollywood so I can get to pack up and go home to my parents. Anywhere is better than here. Better to be poor than to be tormented. Right now I can tell you that my body is tormented. My mind is tormented. My soul is tormented. But unfortunately, this isn’t Nollywood, this is real life. As real as it gets.
Some may say that I’m being abused but my madam says it’s for my own good, so that I can be tough in future. According to her, it’s the price I have to pay for having a roof over my head, food to eat and being less of a burden to my parents. I am going back to clean now, before my madam gets back. But one more thing, similar to classic behaviours of some rich people in this country, my madam most likely is ignorant, miseducated and unaware of how to treat her fellow humans with dignity. Welcome to The Miseducation of the Nigerian Elite
A shitshow of clowns being buffoons
Miseducation means nothing other than not being educated properly. It could be on the value of money (as in case study #3), on proper demeanor (as in case study #1) or on the treatment of fellow humans (as in case study #4). For some strange, unknown, peculiar reason, these are features I find to be characteristics of the Nigerian elite, the miseducated ones. Maybe because there is this feeling of their actions not having any consequences? Of a Superiority complex? Of a Narcisstic Personality disorder? You choose.
Again, let me highlight that being elite and being miseducated are not mutually inclusive (or exclusive) but I intend to sharpen the focus on miseducated elites. As they say, money does not buy class, or civilization or humanity or dignity but it sure buys lessons in that regard.
But with all this miseducation, there is a typical attitude of the Nigerian elite shown to the rest of the masses “This attitude is fueled by a perspective that ordinary Nigerians are lazy, dirty, reckless, undisciplined, stupid, ignorant, unambitious and, therefore, generally deserving of the poverty, illiteracy, disease, insecurity, and lack of access to social goods that befall them. It is always the masses who are blamed for their problems and not the systemic conditions that have been created by the same political elite who do the blaming” (excerpt from The Laziness of the Nigerian Elite by Ayo Sogunro)
Now it really would be a bad combination if the Nigerian elite is both condescending and miseducated, wouldn’t it? The light would shine brighter on the preposterousness. It will be a shitshow of clowns being buffoons. Where’s my popcorn?
Now allow me to go back to my regularly scheduled program, Money miss Road.
Definitions
- Awon money miss road- A term used for people who have money but not class.
- H-Factor- Nigerian term used to refer to the inability to pronounce words that start with “H" and the addition of “H" to words that dont start with H. For example, Ear is pronounced as “Hear" and Hello is pronounced as “Ello"
- Agbada- A loose fitting robe worn by men in Nigeria
- Yoruba Demon- A man (usually of the Yoruba tribe) who courts a woman without any serious intentions. They can be recognized by the agbadas they wear.
- Nah- a Nigerian word used to lay emphasis
- Owambe- A flamboyant party, usually weddings or birthdays.
- Swallow- starchy foods that are cooked to a dense paste and eaten with various soups.
- Nkwobi- A spicy Nigerian dish made from cow foot.
- Big madams and Ogas- Nigerian slang used for the elite
Note: All names noted in this article are entirely fictional
