THE NARRATIVE ARC
Playing Defense: The Challenge of Revealing My Nigerian Identity Online
From deflection to ownership
Every time on Medium or Social Media someone asks me, “Which country are you from?” I immediately get uncomfortable:
Why are they asking?
Will learning that I am Nigerian not immediately make me suspicious to them?
Talking to anyone about being Nigerian, is the most difficult conversation I have, and sweating bullets answering it is the norm.
So I deflect:
“So, you see…” I’ll start. “So…guess…” (Yes, guess. At this point, I am about to give you a little runaround about our foods and the good things about my country) before I finally say:
Nigerian. I am from Nigeria.
Then I hold my breath as questions begin to run through my mind: Will they block me at this point?
Will they begin to tread cautiously around me trying to see if I am a Nigerian Prince catfishing them while waiting for when they drop their guard so I strike and collect their millions?
Will they find ways to look down on me as poor, deceitful, and opportunistic?
Just what is about to happen after this revelation that I am Nigerian? How does one become so apologetic about their country?
I assume when anyone hears Nigeria, they hear: The 20th most dangerous country in the world. The Number 1 most scamming country in the world. Economic data puts us at the 47th poorest country in the world. According to Transparency.org, 145/180 in the world’s most corrupt countries. Losing a safe estimate of over 400 billion dollars since 1960 Independence. Number 1 in the world internet fraud. In terms of insecurity, 146th out of 163 countries.
Even Nigerians joke about how Nigeria is a disadvantage that happens to its citizens. As in, the country will find a way to mess with you whenever you think you are getting over whatever it threw at you the last time.
As an example, when I heard Medium was purging accounts a short while back, I felt guilty. Guilty about what? I still don’t know but it had something to do with where I am. I just waited for the sign that I was off the platform.
If we feel this way about our country, I cannot imagine how someone looking in sees us.
So, what can its citizens do about it?
I know more than a few friends who, for different reasons, are choosing to go online to find the love of their lives. I know how kind some of them are, how hardworking, and how incredibly loving they can be. I also listen to them talk about how demeaning more than a few men get when they get talking:
You will use me to get a green card. Or, do you love me or my money?
Like seriously boss, if you love them, what do you care if they have a green card through you? And they love you for your money? You must be soooo rich.
But, I bite my tongue and wish my friends good luck. If finding love online with oyibo (foreigners), was the only and last way to find love, I would still not participate.
While I cannot vouch for all of Nigeria, growing up, my mother and many parents I knew, did their best to raise their children on good moral values. This I can defend as my values of honesty, integrity, and compassion, so is standing up for myself.
My Nigerian friend in real estate, working in Dubai, told me that she tells clients she is from South Africa and the other Nigerian she knows, will tell them, she is from Botswana. A friend who games online will introduce himself as Nigerian and then apologize for it.
In the online space, my preferred method of standing up for myself is superficial engagement. It’s like having neighbours that you say hello and bye to. In this way, when I see you, I acknowledge you but keep it moving.
What does my approach change? Nothing. I cannot change anyone’s mind about my country.
But, I do not want to fall out with anyone and they spin the story that generalizes all of Nigeria negatively.
Surprisingly, I found out recently that my close friend takes the same approach:
She is in a long-distance relationship with an oyibo (foreign) man and one day, her less-than-scrupulous male friend in Nigeria asks how she got her client so he will see how he can find a female client. She refused to help him.
To him, “What does it matter?”
To my friend, “They are people, not clients to take advantage of and if I can keep just you away, so be it.”
This is her way of standing up for herself and maybe, for the Nigeria she loves. One bad apple in a space can, not just corrupt the space, but they can bring in 50 more bad apples.
And when does it end?
Sometimes people outside my country reach out to me to join their forums. Sometimes, I accept. I have given myself some boundaries:
When money is discussed, I do not even show up. I don’t want issues. And, When anyone wants to reach out and be closer, I shut it down politely.
With the latter, I have accepted that I will one day wake up and find out that I have been removed from the group. Has happened a few times. I have made my peace with it and wish them well.
The Nigeria I know is mean to citizens and foreigners but, there are good people here. Too many bad apples have corrupted the system and everyone is paying the price in some way. This is the reality and I cannot just pretend it isn’t true or that there isn’t cause for it.
But, I am from here. I am from Nigeria. I am Nigerian. This is true. This truth will never change but I can change.
I am Nigerian.
Whatever you think beyond my truth, that is your choice — whatever it may be.
Thank You For Reading.
Many thanks to Debra G. Harman, MEd. and Judy Walker of The Narrative Arc, for their edits.
