4 November 2017

Adamawa: The Hometown I Have Never Visited

It’s odd, that when people ask me where I’m from I have to tell them the state my parents come from. I learnt that the hard way, because during my first days in Nigeria I told people that I come from the UK and received blank stares and raised eyebrows, as if I was claiming something I’m not. They wanted to know which Nigerian State I call my own, a place I return to for Christmas, weddings and funerals. But I return to England for Christmas. I have no grandparents or close relations left in any Nigerian state; my family is in England.

Yet it seems that unless you're an obvious foreigner, i.e. white, you have to claim somewhere in Nigeria as yours. So I now I say that I am British, but my parents are from Adamawa. This seems to satisfy the people who always want to place me somewhere. Perhaps it makes it easier for them to compartmentalise you, so that they can reach for the popular stereotypes and received wisdom about your hometown and its natives which then gives them the tools with which to talk to you and deal with you.

Mandara Mountains in Adamawa State

Your hometown, your state, is such a defining factor in Nigerian life that it has to be written prominently on your CV and it can determine your job or school and who you marry. It is also what people will ask about you after your name in order to familiarise themselves with you. "That Warri girl" says a lot about the woman, even more than her education or current situation ever could. "Don't worry, he's from Edo" or "Now I understand, she is from Kaduna. Kaduna people are always..." Your state can speak louder than your words or deeds ever could.
Yet I have friends in the UK whose parents are Nigerian but they don't speak a word of their native language, have never been to Nigeria, to talk less of their hometown and have only a vague understanding of what their hometown is and what coming from there means. They are British, except for their skin colour and their names which harken back to a different origin, one they are estranged from. And they feel no loss at not knowing. England is enough. So would such people still carry the markers of their states in their DNA enough for it to matter? Should they be judged on where their parents came from?
Many ask if I’ve been to Adamawa, and when I tell them I haven’t they are surprised and say “Oh, you must go and visit your hometown!” But it isn’t my hometown. I believe that your hometown is where you most identify with, where you feel most comfortable, where you came of age. It should be where the bulk of your memories about your family and home emerge from.

Adamawa is in North-Eastern Nigeria
In that sense, my hometown is in South London, which is where I lived during my childhood and most of my youth and where I went to school. I know the streets, shops, train stations, friends’ houses, hairdressers, corner shops, local Tesco’s, GP's office, parks and libraries like the back of my hand, and the places still evoke feelings of nostalgia. 


There’s the bus stop where I collapsed on the ground after school one day because of searing period pain, and a lady spoke kind words to me until my bus arrived and then I threw up in the back seat on the top deck. Then there’s the Shopping Centre where my mother slapped me because I'd misplaced a Blender she’d just bought and left in my care. South London and its surroundings is my hometown, the place I cried, laughed, fell in and out of love, partied and consciously evolved. Surrey also has much more of a claim on my heart than Adamawa, because it is where my family moved to in my late teens and where they currently reside. It is where my younger siblings would call their hometown. Even West London where I lived and worked for two years is more of a home to me than Adamawa.

City centre in Adamawa's capital Yola
Adamawa is only my hometown in the sense that it produced the two people that produced me. Yet it is - to many people in Nigeria - where my identity and my humanity lies. But that is wrong. To look at me through the prism of what you know about Adamawa will be to equate my being with something completely unconnected to me as a person.
I am not my hometown.
I have no desire to visit Adamawa, yet for as long as I can remember the state has been a constant companion, right back to when it was called Gongola. In England I used to tell the few (Nigerian) people that asked that I was from Gongola, and when the name of the state changed in the early 90s I had to change too and say I was from Adamawa, but in my mind's eye the place itself remained an abstract collection of dirt-roads and hazy hills, a far-off place I never imagined I would ever go to.
After all, what will I do when I get there? There is no family compound to return to or leaping, grinning young cousins to welcome me back, no aunts or in-laws to pinch my cheeks or cook special delicacies or tell me I’ve lost weight; no tree or clearing or road that holds a special history for my family that I am aware of. If I go I would be just another tourist. Perhaps I might share a resemblance with some of the inhabitants. Maybe some older Adamawains will look upon me with vague recognition. Maybe.
Sometimes I feel that I owe it to my future interrogators to actually visit the place I claim as my own. I have heard that it is quite beautiful, and is known for its mountains and scenic tourist parks. Some family members might still be there, although I don’t know where they are exactly or even who they are. It could happen that I can go to Adamawa and pass my cousin or uncle on the road without knowing.   


But I can live the rest of my life quite happily without visiting a place only connected to me by history. I am one generation removed from closeness to it, a lifetime removed from familiarity with it.
Maybe one day I will go to Adamawa. Who knows, I might feel this strong sense of affinity with the state, as if I’d been there before. Things I didn’t know were missing in my life might suddenly fall into place and I’ll feel more whole for having made the journey. I might love it and want to return again and again and later share it with my own children. But it is difficult to be enthusiastic about your place of origin if your parents were not. The roots have long dried up and fallen away so I would have to plant seeds of my own, seeds that have already sprouted and budded elsewhere. I would be re-planting flowers already in full-bloom. 


But do I really need to tether myself to a particular Nigerian state in order to be fully African, and authentically Fulani?

19 comments:

  1. While I appreciate your plight, the answer to your last question is 'yes.' This is why:
    You can't exactly claim an ethnicity if you aren't 'tethered' physically or psychologically- or even nominally- to a certain geographical location.
    Kelvin.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. So I must familiarise myself with Adamawa in order to claim it? Hmmm...Isn't that like the Black Americans who make the pilgrimage to Ghana to reclaim their roots, but in the end the results are artificial?

      I believe that the proof of my ethnicity doesn't have to lie outside of me, it can (and does) exist in my knowledge, appearance, language and DNA...

      Delete
  2. This comment has been removed by the author.

    ReplyDelete
  3. I understand how you feel or I think I do. I guess it's just a Nigerian thing. Same goes with names. Nigerians always want to know the meaning and origin of the names they give their children (though I believe it's a very good practice). I actually thought it was normal everywhere until I was having a chat with my driving instructor and he told me he didn't know the meanings of SEAN and RORY,the names he gave his sons. I was really surprised!

    Personally I would want to visit my 'country or state of origin', just out of curiosity. I was born and spent my early years in Borno state and then we relocated to the Eastern part (ENUGU) when I was about 8 years old. I always dreamed and longed to visit Borno again. I felt like I belonged there even though my parents are from Enugu.

    Thankfully I was posted to do my NYSC in Borno state. But with the state of things in Nigeria now, I do not think I would want to ever go there again.

    I climbed the mandara mountains twice during my NYSC in Borno state.It was FUN!

    ReplyDelete
  4. Hi Onyeha, yes names don't mean much in England, except for Jewish-origin names like Rachel or Joshua which have Hebrew meanings. Curiosity might be the only reason left for me to visit Adamawa. The various conflicts there makes me nervous about visiting though, but the mountains! I've heard stories about them, aren't they call Mountain of Death or something?

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I see. I'm not sure if it's called 'Mountain of death', but there is a small community of people who have lived all their lives and raised families up there. They appear to have a totally different culture, language, and lifestyle compared to those living down the mountain.

      The mountain is not an easy one to climb, it takes hours to go up and down, more like a whole day!

      Delete
    2. Fascinating. I wonder if the mountain people are Fulani. Anyways as mountains go, it sounds like punishment to climb, but I bet the views at the top are lovely...

      Delete
    3. Miss, I will advise that you learn more about your history because most of your articles about us (Fulbe) are full errors and distortions. To answer your question, we are not mountain people. The people inhabiting that area are of different ethnic groups. Fulbe could be found in the lowlands of the region. Mandara mountain cuts across Northern Adamawa, Southern Borno and some parts of The Republic of Cameroun.
      The issue of insecurity you raised in one of your replies is also exaggerated. Boko Haram is mainly a Borno-Yobe affair. State of Emergency was imposed on Adamawa for political reasons. Again I implore you to read unbiased reports on Boko Haram vis-a-vis the security situations in Northern Nigeria...it's mainly a kanuri and to some extend associated ethnic groups in the aforementioned states' affair that is been portrait as a Fulani's and Hausa's by the highly biased and compromised press and others that matters.

      Delete
    4. Alrite Bamanga. I don't actually think that Fulanis are mountain people, it was just a light-hearted comment.

      If you point out the errors and distortions I'll correct them if I agree.

      Delete
  5. Hajia,

    What I will say is this, one day on future your children might ask you, 'mummy where do you come from ? And grandma etc ?' Methnks it would be great to be able to tell them of a trip you took there to discover your roots. You'll be able to show where the Adamawa Fulbe fit into the wider Fulani world etc.I know you can read about it, but even one visit might make things more vivid for you. Children do get curious about these types of things around ages: 7 - 10/11.

    ciao
    Mallam Anonymous

    ReplyDelete
  6. Fulani never lived/live on mountains! Wherever they migrate to they push away the indigenous populations to the mountains & settle in the valleys n plateau.

    You say you are Fulani and you still insist you are British, not wanting to visit "your hometown". You are not like the African-Americans as they are descendants of slavery. Your parents migrated freely to the UK. I don't like the term African-American! They are black Americans just like the others are white American? Why don't they say they are European-American???
    Let me share these verses from a poem:

    "Places we love exist only through us,
    Places we love we can never leave,
    Places we love together, together, together,...
    When you go, space closes over like water behind you,
    Do not look back: there is nothing outside you,
    Space is only time visible in a different way,
    Places we love we can never leave.”

    Wish you well

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. "You say you are Fulani and you still insist you are British" I am both. The poem was lovely, especially the line "Do not look back: there is nothing outside you." Home is where your heart is...you carry your home with you.

      Delete
  7. I am glad to see you are still blogging. I enjoy reading your thoughts.

    I am sorry to read that you don't see any connection between you and the Adamawa state.
    You mention that it is the state of your parents, but you downplay it's influence on you.
    This seems counter intuitive....if your parents are from this state, and the culture of this state made an imprint on them, and they made an imprint on you, then the state of Adamawa made an indirect imprint on you. You see yourself as British/Fulani, but Fulani are not a stagnant people, their culture varies depending upon who they interact with. Fulani in Nigeria have been influenced by Hausa, Fulani in Mali have been influenced by Mandingo and Songhai. Fulani in Chad are influenced by Kanuri/Baggara/Zaghawa.

    Sometimes if you look at a situation very linear, you miss the most important aspects. Many times I have heard grandparents look at their grandchildren and point out behavior and mannerisms from them similar to them or their ancestors. The parents of these children can't see it because they are stuck in a linear analysis. They can only compare their child to them now. But grandparents can compare the child to a much greater sample, so they see things parents don't. Similarly, you may indeed have customs and mannerisms of a grand aunt that you never knew. You may have ideas that are very common to people in your village. Your parents had these ideas and passed them to you.

    I agree with the comment that you have a child or grandchild that maybe more curious than you and your failure to inquire burdens their ability to reconnect. I think one reason people ask what state you are from is an attempt to connect, not marginalize.....See if they know you by tribe, family or school.

    Speaking of reconnecting, it's natural for people to want to reconnect. Jews around the world with no connection to the state of Israel, or the middle east, rally around that country. Here in America, Tea Party voters want to reconnect with some glorious American past. Every traditionalist or conservative political party is a reconnection movement. African Americans going to Ghana is part of a psychology stemming from having culture stripped away by force. It's curiosity and a reconnection movement, and its only about 20% of the population with that deep a curiosity. (Intelligent people that study the culture find significant vestiges of African culture in African American culture. Jazz, blues, dance, okra, fried cakes, the gullah language, root science, veneration of the mother, are all vestiges of this African contribution. So, they may not be African, but there is enough African contribution to classify them as distinct from other Americans.)

    The reality is you are Fulani/British and your Fulani contribution comes via Adamawa. Go visit.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Yes, I do understand why Adamawa should be important in my life, I do. I would have loved to have a connection with the place, but I don't. I know it's odd, here I am proclaiming I'm Fulani, yet not feeling anything for my State of origin. I guess the two just don't go together for me...

      I will definitely visit one day though.

      Delete
  8. I do not always contribute to issues raised on the web, but yours is quite intriguing and so I feel I have a duty to make a brief remark on it. First I will blame your parents for your plight, if they did not put certain things into your head. They owe you the responsibility of thoroughly educating you about your history and raising your curiosity about it. I am sorry to guess that they fall into the category of some of those Africans who disown every thing about their history and past when they find themselves in a more comfortable environment. This is mostly common among Nigerians, and millions of them abound in the western world. For example the Holy book of the Christians states that" teach a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not depart from it" (Proverbs 22: 6). Nonetheless, some children, especially rebellious ones (who adopt the modern craving for freedom) would vehemently resist the paths you carve out for them. Sometimes they are right to do so, but most times they make costly and irreparable mistakes. That might sound too conservative, but it is the truth. My father had only primary school education, worked in the colonial civil service, rose through the ranks to the top of his career. Having seen younger and more educated colleagues rise faster than him, he made it known to his numerous children, that any short of higher or professional degrees was unacceptable to him. Believe me his children are about the highest people on earth. Some struggled to attain this heights, but they laughed last for what their father took them through.
    I do understand that in the western world personal freedom is the order of the day. Those of us living and even teaching in their educational institutions are not amused by the decadence of these societies. Yet, the western societies are highly structured and organized. I see your thought pattern as a product of maybe some level of liberalism in upbringing. There is nothing wrong in identifying and having affection for your place and land of birth. I was born in Benue State of Nigeria, even though my ancestral home is in south of Cross River Sate of Nigeria. My children known that, and call Makurdi my home town because they see how affectionate and emotional I feel about anything Benue. Regardless, I still make them know where my roots are, and they identify with the people from my relatives! Surprisingly, my daughter is extremely affectionate with my people in spite of paying only one visit to the place. She would not listen to western artist, but knows every musician in Nigeria to our amusement. Surprisingly, she talks and behaves and reminds my wife and I of my late sister who she does not know. My sister, you can never know where you are going, until you know where you are coming from. As a graduate student in a western country, a white female colleague of told me that I dance so well because as an African they believe that we I have a gene for dancing! Even though I dismissed her remarks with a wave of the hand, I learned a lot about how she perceived me. In that same party, no girl wanted to dance with me, until an inquisitive man told them I was a PhD student at the top university in town. I became the "toast" of all the girls in the party. I learned a lesson then about what mattered about me in a society I still remain passionate about. I then knew I should care much about a place every body will see me through the same eyes. Yes, you can be a Nigeria, but your genes may have nothing in common with the genes of a Benin guy! How would you feel if one day you stumble into your aunt? Would you feel none plus about her? Are you taught strong affection for family members? Why do you thing Alex Harley of the"root" fame came to Senegal many centuries later to trace his roots? Why did the British relations of some of the early explorers of Nigeria visit their graves in Lokoja? What do they have to do with the dead? Yes, we ought to love every human being but, the love for a family member is different.

    ReplyDelete
  9. We need to know where we are coming from, so that we would know where we are going, and be comfortable in our skins.

    ReplyDelete
  10. This issue of not been too attached to ancestral homes is definitely a Fulani thing. May be that is why we have Hausa Fulani in Kano and other Hausa towns. We have Yoruba Fulani in Kwara and other Yoruba areas. We have Fulatan Borno in Misau and generally associated with Fulanis who were part of the movement to takeover Borno during the Shehu Danfodio Jihad. You are now Fulata England or Fulata English, as all Fulani in England. Or for the wider European Fulani, Fulata Europe, or Fulata French or German etc. Nothing wrong with that. We have this capacity for blending and adopting the language and culture with some reminiscences of our Fulani culture, the Pulaako, modesty and other Fulani courtesies.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Interesting comment. Seems I was unknowingly manifesting my Fulaniness? That happens a lot, same with my innate modesty, reserve and shyness and many aspects of Pulaako I see in myself.

      I like it: Fulata English.

      Delete