Exposed: Inside a Nigerian Newspaper

A big part of my life in Nigeria for the last two years has been my job, up until last month that is, when I was forced to leave. But my time there has not only given me a close-up view of how a media organisation in Nigeria works, but also exposed to me the huge professional inadequacies and systematic disdain for quality and excellence inherent in many of this country’s institutions. Let me explain.

I worked in the pull-out section of a newspaper, but the entire time I was there not a single issue was ever published, even though four editions were designed, interviews undertaken, research completed and everything was good to go in soft-copy format, but it never reached production.

So for the most part there was nothing to do. My colleagues and I filled our days surfing the net, ‘gisting’ and generally loafing about, our cynicism growing each time management announced a production date for the magazine which came and went with no result.

I was often poached from the inertia of my official department to help out on other titles in the company, and whilst moonlighting as a sub-editor for the dailies, it suddenly hit me: nobody in this whole newspaper company can write!

I edited pages and pages of news and features and interviews and read a fair bit of the newspaper myself, and never saw one piece of writing that had any flair, fluency or fluidity. I gave up trying to rewrite news pieces and features; after all they were supposed to be written by professional journalists working for a national newspaper, yet 99% of the raw copies I received were clunky and misshapen, lacking in proper sentence structure in which grammar and spelling mistakes abound, and this in the age of spell check.

Almost every interview published in the paper used the question and answer style, which is the most elementary way of interview writing discouraged internationally as being lazy and uncreative. I also became familiar with many Nigerianisms: words and sentences that were acceptable in Nigeria but not internationally, like ‘severally’ or ‘put to bed (when a woman has a baby),’ ‘taking a turn for the worst,’ ‘resumed his new job,’ ‘Nigeria Police Association’ (If you don’t see anything wrong with these then you’re probably Nigerian.) I was soon able to tell, from reading just a couple of lines of anything, whether it was written by a Nigerian or not.

I often wondered: Did the readers notice the inadequacies? My teenage sister in England, who is an avid reader, writes better than many of the journalists whose work I had to edit. It was painful. I often looked up from the piece I was trying to render legible and wondered if I could do this for years on end. It would drive me insane.

I understand that Nigerians are often multi-lingual so English is not their primary or singular concern, but I expected a national newspaper of high standing to at least recruit the best. Not everyone in England can write well I can assure you, but in order to be employed in an established newspaper, you at least have to be better than the general population at constructing a sentence, and you are expected to have been trained up to degree level with lots of writing experience before you are given the job of informing the nation every day.

None of the journalists (and it is with regret that I have to use that word to describe them) were natural writers, I believe most got the job through a friend or relative or through luck and thought “Yeah, I think I can do this,” or maybe they fell into the job or dreamt of writing but really shouldn't. Sure some did Mass Communication degrees, which made me wonder at the quality of teaching at university level. If graduates had such woeful writing, what of the non-graduates? My parents' generation enjoyed some of the best education in Nigeria that was on par with teaching institutions globally, but it seems all that has changed.

But I don’t blame the writers, heck everyone’s looking for work these days. If an oil drilling company accepts a pregnant woman to start work tomorrow, whose fault is it?

I longed for quality writing amongst the pile of pain I dealt with daily like a camel longs for water in the desert. I happened upon a well written piece I could actually read through without wincing once or twice a fortnight, but alas, they were written by guest writers (educated abroad no doubt) not staff.

So now add conspiracy to boredom and bad writing and you’ll have the story of my two years at __________ . It was like the plot to a bad movie: I was promoted to the Editor of the magazine, but a colleague did all in her power to remove me from the position so that she could occupy it. She couldn't write, had no journalism training and didn't even study media at degree level, but being qualified for the job is superfluous in Nigeria, just shout the loudest and stroke the biggest ego and you’ll get whatever you want. Granted I’d reported this lady to management after N100, 000 in her care went ‘missing,’ but although she was neither punished nor chastised, I guess I overstepped the mark.

So I was unceremoniously deposed, but still decided to stay on as sub-editor, until another woman in management took a dislike to me. I call it women issues. Here I was, all British and qualified and popular and young and fast-rising, coming to impose myself on the territories others had marked out as theirs. So I became the enemy. Then after my salary was stopped without warning, my computer and desk vanished, and the cold, spiteful exchanges between myself and others ensued, I ran away.

In a British workplace, when someone doesn't like you the worse they can do is get you fired. In Nigeria they could also employ jazz and get you killed. Oh yes, I’d heard of such things happening. You may call it paranoia, but after one threat too many I ran for my life.

I take away from my time working at the paper some good friends and a valuable experience, although I wouldn’t wish it on any other non-Nigerian entering the Nigerian work-place for the first time. My British friend, who I’d met during our Masters degree after which we both decided to leave England and ‘make it in Africa,’ now works for an NGO in Ghana where she’s paid in Euros. I’d stayed with her in Ghana before coming to Nigeria and whilst she now works in a company with international standards and international colleagues which she loves, I was brave and perhaps foolish to go straight into working for a Nigerian company, without the comfort of an International NGO work experience beforehand to cushion my landing.

It has been a rude awakening and I made lots of mistakes, said the wrong things, and tried to implement British practices into a place that was unreceptive and even resentful of excellence.In the end the system found a way to expel me, as I believe it expels anything that would disrupt the dysfunctional status quo.

My colleagues told me the secret to success in the Nigerian workplace: turn up to work, do as little as possible, say nothing in the face of injustice and collect your salary at the end of the month*. They tried to warn me, bless them, but I was too full of idealism and the righteousness of my cause: “But this is wrong!” I would say. They would reply “We know, but just do it anyway. That’s the way it’s done here.” Everything in me rebelled against such a misshapen system; I was used to better and wanted better.

I feel like a different person today compared to the person I was when I first began work for the company in 2011. If I had to do it all again I would assert myself more and speak less in certain situations, but all in all I believe everything happens for a reason and I am proud to say that despite many pressures, I never compromised my morals or changed my personality in order to succeed. I stayed true to myself, which demands such strength of character that this experience has shown me I possess.



*This particular paper actually did well by paying its staff regularly, as other media companies don’t pay their staff for months on end.

Interview with British Fulani Author Munir Bello

Finding out that the author of The Break Up Recipe, Munir Bello is a British Fulani-Nigerian piqued my curiosity immensely. 

Munir Bello, Author of The Break Up Recipe

Sure, his self-published e-book about relationships is hilarious and received rave reviews from publications like The Voice and Female First, and reviews here and here were also glowing, but what I really wanted to know was: what did his parents think about him stripping naked to promote the book (yes, that's his well-oiled physique below)? 

And was his ex-fiancée - the woman that inspired him to write after she broke up with him - Black, Nigerian, Fulani or none of the above? 

Munir strips totally naked to promote The Break Up Recipe. As you do.

Munir also said that he attended a Gay Pride parade to hand out flyers promoting his book, and is happy to attract a gay audience thanks to his hot bod on display. This 30-year old Fulani man's outlook on life is definitely refreshing, so I asked him a whole load of questions, and bless him, he not only answered all 50 (I was very curious) with great candour and humour, he also gave me an insight into how another Fulani Brit thinks. Thanks Munir!

BIOGRAPHY

Where were you born?
I was born in Lagos, Nigeria in 1983

Where were you raised?
I was raised in Lagos where I went to school until the age of 10 and travelled around Kaduna, Sokoto, Kano and Abuja where I have family. I then moved to England at the age of 10 to school and have permanently lived here since. I used to go back to Nigeria quite regularly during the school holidays, but less frequently now as my immediate family now live in London.

Describe your family.
Like most I am the product of a mother and father. They live in London. My father is a consultant and my mother runs a small business. I have 3 siblings; the oldest is a lawyer,  my younger sister works in sales and my younger brother is a radio presenter.

What is your current occupation?

I am an author. I wrote a book called The Break Up recipe. I am also currently in the process of writing the sequel for the book as well as filming a dating show in London which will be airing in the summer.

What is your family's religion and what is your personal religious belief?

I was born into a Muslim family and I am a part-time Muslim. By that I mean that I do consider myself a Muslim, however I am not fully practising. I fast during Ramadan.

What career did you want to go into when you were younger?

I originally wanted to either be an actor or a journalist. I realised early on that I was not good enough to be an actor so decided to concentrate on something else. As for journalism, it was something that as I got older, I had less of a desire to do.

BEING NIGERIAN
What is your relationship with Sokoto/Zamfara?
My paternal grandmother lives in a small village in the state and so do some of my uncles, aunties and cousins. I very much do consider it my home and generally when I am asked where I am from I tell people that I am a Nigerian from Sokoto (It has been pointed out to me that it is now Zamfara, but when I was growing up it was Sokoto and that has now stuck in my vocabulary)

What is your relationship with Nigeria?
Nigeria is the country that I am from. Although I am a dual passport holder and have lived most of my life in The UK, I consider myself a Nigerian as my earliest memories are from there. I speak Hausa at home to my family which serves as a reminder to my roots.

Do you have any extended family in Nigeria, and if so, are you still close to them? 

I have plenty of extended family in Nigeria as I come from a very large family, and I am close to them. We communicate regularly online.

What is your view on Boko Haram?

My view on Boko Haram is that it is an organisation that has put our country in the news for all the wrong reasons. I am certainly not in any way a sympathiser.

What is your view on the Bring Back Our Girls campaign and it's popularity around the world?

I am glad that the world is sitting up and taking notice by trying to help us eradicate the problem with the violent attacks. I am sad, however, that the name of my country is seen as synonymous with terrorism which unfortunately is one of the first words that come out of people's mouths now [when they thing about Nigeria]. The campaign hopefully sends out a strong message of support to the families of these girls and I hope that in the end it helps bring them home. I also hope that it isn't just a social media fad that will lead to a swift evacuation if it becomes considered as old news.

What is your view of the Nigerian government?

My view on Nigerian politics is extremely limited as I don't keep up to date with the current affairs. From what I know, we have a president who seems powerless in the face of everything and we have a first lady who delivers many excellent sound-bites that bring a huge smile to my face. In fact, my neighbour and I have been watching lots of her Youtube clips recently. Interesting is a word that springs to mind.

Would you ever return to Nigeria to live long-term?

'I don't know' is the honest answer to that question. The reason is because two thirds of my life have been lived in the UK so I am more used to the way things work over here. I wouldn't rule out living in Nigeria for long periods of time over the course of a year in the future, as when I have children I would like them to know where their father comes from.

Would you want your kids to be strongly connected to Nigeria?
I absolutely would because I have so many wonderful memories from when I was living there. As mentioned previously, I'd like them to know where their father comes from as there is a strong likelihood that they would be raised in the UK.

Are you proud to be Nigerian, given often negative perceptions of the country?

I'm very proud to be a Nigerian because there are values within our people that are very commendable, such as a strong work ethic and an entrepreneurial streak that is unrivalled. We also are very good at adapting and some of the hardest working people I have ever known are from Nigeria. The negative perceptions which are well publicised are to do with fraud, corruption and most recently, bomb attacks. The positives greatly outweigh the negatives. We have the biggest GDP in Africa and some amazing scholars.

Munir Bello: Proudly Nigerian, proudly British and proudly Fulani

What do your non-Nigerian friends thing about the country?

Generally speaking a lot of them would like to visit the country mostly due to the great PR the food receives over here. I do tend to introduce them to some of our foods. The weather also means that it is a natural draw for non-Nigerian friends of mine who spend a lot of their time in cold climates. The lifestyle and pace of life over there also makes it appealing to friends of mine who have visited the country.

BEING FULANI 

What does being Fulani mean to you?

I live with the knowledge that being Fulani, I am part of what was the old ruling class and am sometimes unfairly judged as the son of a rich man who knows nothing about a hard life or hard work which couldn't be further from the truth. At the same time however, it is a fact that we are the best looking people in Nigeria and yes I am being biased on my beautiful family members. Our people are traditionally nomads, hence why it was a seamless transition for me to move to another country.

Do you think being Fulani differentiates you from other Nigerians? If so why?
The differentiation has been touched on in the previous question. It is more apparent in the UK than back home because there aren't many of us here. The majority of Nigerians present here tend to be Igbo or Yoruba.

Would you say you were knowledgeable about Fulani customs and traditions? 
I'm ashamed to say that I am not knowledgeable enough to have a debate about Fulani customs. I know small bits from my time over in Nigerian and from what my parents have tried to teach. Fura da nono is one tradition I am fully fluent in.

Are you proud of your Fulani heritage? 

Without a shadow of a doubt, yes I am.

What aspects of Fulani culture do you most identify with?

Being a nomad.

What are your thoughts on Fulani nomads and their lifestyle?

Very admirable. I have a lot of respect for the discipline it takes to be a cattle herder, which is underrated.

What are your thoughts on the spate of Fulani gunmen that allegedly shoot down many villages in the North?

It is not a subject that I am familiar with but my thoughts on any gunman that would shoot down a village of people is that he is a coward.

How do your family honour your Fulani heritage, if at all?

They've instilled in me not to forget where I come from and always make a point of reminding me that I come from a people I should be proud of which I am.

Do you speak Fulfude?

Sadly not.

Do you know/have met Fulanis from across Africa, and how did you get on?

I met a Fulani from Sierra Leone 16 years ago and we are friends to this day.

What do you think about me: a British Fulani Christian?

I think you're normal, there are lots of people who come from a predominantly Muslim community who are Christians. I come from a heavily inter-married family so although my parents are Muslim, my uncles and aunties are a mixture of different religions. Also my grandmother on my mothers side taught me the Bible and the Quran from a very early age.

BEING BRITISH
What do your British friends think about your Fulani heritage?
They don't know anything about the Fulani.

Have you met many Fulani people in England? If not why do you think you haven't? 

I have only met one from Sierra Leone. I think the reason for the scarcity of a Fulani presence here is because Fulanis either stay in Nigeria or go to America and other parts of Europe.

Does being a Fulani man affect or influence any aspect of your life in England?

None whatsoever.

In some of the interviews for your book, you mention going out to drink with friends and writing when drunk, and you also pose naked with a cover of your book. How do you reconcile your 'Western' behaviour with a (presumably) conservative Fulani heritage?

I'm a product of a Nigerian upbringing in the first third of my life and a western upbringing the rest of it, meaning that the two cultures meet somewhere in the middle and compromise. The picture for the marketing cover was originally met with some resistance by my parents but not outright opposition, the rest of my family have never commented negatively on it.

What's more important to you: being British, being Nigerian or being a Fulani man? 
In order would be 1) Nigerian, as it is where I was born, 2) Fulani as it is my heritage and where I'm from (it's not 1 because of my minuscule knowledge) 3) Being British because it is a nationality I inherited but one that I am nevertheless very proud of.

Does your heritage affect your dating choices or choice of who you will marry?

No not at all; my girlfriend is British and it's not a problem for my family. 

What do your family think of your lifestyle?

Good question. I've never really asked them. I think overall they're happy with it as I've never been taken aside by them and told I need to change my ways.

Whenever you return to family in Nigeria, do you feel assimilated or different from them?

I feel assimilated, the only difference would be my accent but i still remember the customs and the correct way to eat the food.

Are you happy you're in England or do you wish you had stayed in Nigeria?

I'm very happy I'm in England. Had I stayed in Nigeria then I wouldn't have gotten to see as much of the world (cheaper to travel form here) as I have or met the many wonderful people that I have met. All the good people I met back home are either now here or if they are back home we are still in touch. Three letters were worth the move over here: KFC!!

What do you think are commonly-held misconceptions people abroad have about Fulani people?That we are a bunch of uneducated in-breds. Not many people realise what the generation before us did which was that they left the country to get first class education and helped pioneer many things back home.

Would you say you play up or play down your Fulaniness? 

Neither really, it's something I'm proud of but as I don't get asked much about it, I rarely get the opportunity to elaborate on it.

Has your name, because it is Muslim, ever posed any issues for you? 

Oh yes!! Most airports I go to will pull me aside for extra questioning due to "computer generated" reasons. It's the last thing that I need after a long flight but I tend to ignore their stupidity rather than get angry about it.

How do you feel about your Islamic background in a country where Islam is often associated with global terrorism?

I don't hide my Islamic background and so far I've never had any problems because of it. I think I have been very lucky in that respect. I get more irritated by other Muslims from other countries who, once they find out my Islamic background, try to test how much I know, almost as if I need their approval. I find it very pathetic. Muslim converts also tend to do this a lot.

Do you feel completely assimilated into English life or do you feel like an outsider sometimes?

I am an outsider because outside of a major city I am considered a minority. I don't feel alienated, but I am aware that I am not considered as the norm in some quarters, but then that is very normal because if a white person rocked up into Lagos they would be seen as an outsider also. It's never hostile on either side however.

HIS BOOK
Describe what The Break Up Recipe is about.

The Break Up Recipe is a romantic comedy from the point of view of a man. it contains some funny observations on life and some expletive language. To sum it up, a guy gets dumped by his fiancee and then looks back on his previous encounters with the opposite sex. He comes back to the modern day and creates new experiences with the opposite sex.

What do your family think about your book?

They like it. They have been incredibly supportive throughout. They did initially harbour reservations over the language and the naked image, but were never hostile about it.

You state that you were inspired to write it after a bad break-up with a fiancée; where was she from/what race was she?

Bloody hell you really have done your research! I was wondering when that question was going to come up haha. She was a white British girl.

Did her race pose any problems for you?
Absolutely none. As pointed out earlier, due to the regular intermarriage within my own family, dating outside my race/religion has never been an issue. Come to think of it, it's very acceptable as it's never even been mentioned or alluded to when I've told my parents about someone I'm dating.

Does your Fulani heritage show up anywhere in The Break Up Recipe?

No there isn't any mention of my Fulani heritage in the book.

Do you think the book would have succeeded had it being published in Nigeria?

Time will tell, there is definitely a huge audience in Nigeria that would appreciate it. however due to limited accessibility (It was originally released as an e-Book) it's too soon to say. Now that it has been released as a paperback, we will see. In fact today was the official release day of the book as a hard copy.

What do you think of other Nigerian novelists like Chimamanda Adichie et al?

She is a wonderful author and a great ambassador for our country. I love her books and think that she paints a wonderful picture of our country through words.

Much of the reviews I read didn't focus on your race/nationality, why do you think that is?

The reason for that would be because they were reviewing the book rather than the author, but in some interviews it is something that is referred to. The book isn't set in Nigeria and it has no race references, hence why no reviews would mention it. My bio however states my nationality and my pictures kind of give away my race, especially my marketing picture.

What would you do if the follow up to The Break Up Recipe gets on the New York Times best-seller list?

What I always do when something good happens to me: I'd say a silent thank you to God first, after that I'd probably go on a holiday and enjoy a well deserved rest.

See? Nice guy, great answers, hot bod. So go get the book on Amazon! And also connect with him on Facebook and Twitter.

My Travels Across Nigeria

So, I've ventured outside Abuja to three other states. Below is my impression of each:

JOS
My favourite place so far. The four-hour journey there was full of potholes on the road, vistas of greenery, small rickety houses and tables selling oranges etc on the much of the road sides. We'll reach certain intersections and be greeted by a cackle of snack sellers, mostly kids selling water, plantain chips, sesame-seed cakes and roasted corn. There were also lots of beautiful stretches of trees, farms,valleys and mountains. Jos gets its famous cold weather because of its highlands location and yep, it really was as cold as I was told. Coming from London, everyone expected me to acclimatise easily to the drop in temperature, but funnily enough I was the only one needing to wear a hooded sweatshirt and was sneezing and blowing my nose throughout!

I went to Jos for Easter and hung out with friends, friends of friends and family and ate lots of chicken! A friend owned a cake shop which I loved, and even felt a bit of nostalgia from reading a cake magazine from the UK that the shop subscribed to. I also visited a couple of bakeries and was happy to note that things are so much cheaper in Jos, in fact,any where outside the FCT (Abuja) prices are lower.

On the whole Jos is calmer and more small-towney than Abuja, the people are friendlier and the cool air cools tempers giving a more genial atmosphere. It is also more rocky, and at one point we drove up a narrow, rocky road that felt like mountain-climbing on four wheels.

Some of the mountains that framed our journey to Jos

Unfortunately Jos is also known for a lot of bomb attacks by the Islamic sect Boko Haram. And although 'Josians' didn't obsess about this and went about their daily business normally, you could tell something was up because of the police check-points dotted about the place, where uniformed, armoured men carrying Kalashnikovs (!) would stand behind an erected barrier in the middle of the road so you're obliged to stop your car. You'll then have to put on your car light if it's night-time, and they'll then walk over and greet you calmly, scrutinise you and the other passengers in the car and ask to check your boot. Sometimes they'll also ask for 'a little something' which sometimes we didn't mind giving out, as they spend the whole day in the sun wearing heavy armour and were usually quite jokey with drivers, unless you 'look suspicious' of course, in which case they'd ask you to pull over to the side of the road.

Another reminder that this beautiful state is not altogether peaceful was the fact that some friends and I watched an Arsenal football match in a large bar with huge screens when I was there, which was great fun. Then later I heard that a similar establishment in Jos was bombed a few days ago as football fans exited after watching a match. That could have been us!

Many churches in Jos have also been bombed, especially at special Christian occasions like Christmas, so I was a little nervous when I went to a church in Jos on Easter Sunday. But the security was high and although inconvenient, we appreciated it: we couldn't drive right up to the church but had to park a fair distance away,  were searched on our way in and women were encouraged to leave large handbags at home. There were also boulders on the road leading up to the church. But the church building was beautiful, as was the service, and there were at least six Caucasian faces dotted around (which is a lot in one place in Nigeria) wearing native Ankara. I guess the cool weather really does attract more Westerners.

I went to Jos a second time for a wedding in a Catholic church, and the reception was held outdoors amongst tall trees at the famous Wild Life Park, which once housed lions, elephants etc (apparently many of these wild animals are native in Nigeria,who knew?) but is now an events centre:

Outdoor wedding reception in Jos

KADUNA
I returned to the state I had heard so much about and seen so many pictures of, and I foolishly thought I would recognise some things and maybe get a sense of deja vu or familiar feeling, but nope. Nothing. Although we were only there for one day and one night for a wedding and I didn't get a chance to explore the state properly.

I noticed the billboards here where mostly in Hausa, or one side had the English version and the reverse the Hausa translation of the ad. Kaduna also had a small-town, less developed look, and being the lover of local foods, made sure I had some Kose and Doya:

Kose (Fried bean cakes) da Doya (and Fried Yam) da Yaji (and Pepper) bought from an outdoor seller frying on a large Wok placed on stones and firewood

I also hung out with friends in a nice outdoor garden and also noticed that compared Abuja, the electricity in Jos and Kaduna was less frequent, and I was told that three nights would go by without any electricity. Gosh!

Nevertheless, I must say KD, as the town is popularly called, was a little disappointing. Maybe because I had such high hopes of the place. It was like any other Nigerian town and fades away in my memory compared with other places I visited in Nigeria. I thought the reverse would be true. I hope when I return I can experience it better.


MINNA
I was in Minna for a few days for a wedding and enjoyed it. It was on my way there that I saw my first ever hut in Africa! Yep, after decades of being African, I finally saw a thatched-roofed, mud walled hut! A few lined the road on our journey, along with plenty of farmland and greenery and one huge mountain, I can't remember it's name.

It was also in Minna that I drank my first ‘Pure Water,’ which are small plastic sachets filled with water that is popular amongst many in Nigeria, as they cost around N5- N10 each, whereas Bottled water cost around N100 each.

Pure Water

Minna also had many checkpoints manned by armed uniformed police/army/guards dotted around, and roads leading up to police stations were totally closed-off due to recent attacks on police stations.  

Another thing I noticed about Minna, as was the case with Jos and Kaduna, is that looks can be deceiving: We'll drive up a bumpy, dilapidated dirt-road right up to a standard iron gate, but then the gates would open and Voila! a well-kept drive-way, beautiful kept lawn and large elegant house would appear, and inside the house would be equally beautiful. So many un-tarmacked roads led up to expensively built homes. 

Minna is probably less developed than any other state I’ve been in, but I enjoyed great hospitality and did a unique hairstyle there called 'Abuja Braids,' which was not only pretty but practical too in that it completely covered my natural hair, otherwise my hair would look fuzzy and rough after three days as my natural curls burst through and start poking through the extensions.

I also wore 'Anko' (Hausa word for aso-ebi) for the first time at a Northern wedding, which is where all the close friends and family of the bride and groom wear matching clothing material. The dress I had made was a beautiful fishtail design, but I didn't wear the gele/scarf provided.

I hope to one day be brave enough to visit Lagos. I was invited by a good British friend of mine who went there for a wedding (weddings seem to be the reasons for much travel. That and funerals. I hope to have many more of the former and none of the latter!) but unfortunately couldn't make it.

Here's to more travels across Nigeria!

My Hausa Sweet Shop

I have a sweet tooth, so I love small, sweet snacks. As a child when I stayed in Kaduna, my parents will give us a few kobos and we would buy:

Alewa: small, white and yellow crumbly sweets
Dankuwa: spicy, brown dough balls made from millet and groundnuts, not so much sweet but moorish
Aya: tiny white nuts you chew and chew
Tom Tom: minty sweets

Tom Tom Minty Sweets

Then there's Chin chin made from sweet flour-dough that's fried; thin, dark brown sticky sweets (can't remember the name) and sweet, fried coconut shavings (can't remember their name either) that also remind me of Kaduna circa 1990.

Chin Chin

But these local sweets, especially Alewa, are impossible to find in the UK, so I settled for the normal penny sweets and chocolates. Then I travelled to America and realised that British chocolates were superior to American candy by far: I'll take a Kit Kat, Bounty, Mars, Snickers, Twix and co over a Hersheys and other peanut-butter flavoured candies any day.

But it was in America I re-discovered Dankuwa, when the mother of my ex sent him a whole bag-full, and as he didn't like it (it's an acquired taste) I got to enjoy Dankuwa for weeks.

Now I'm in Northern Nigeria, I've been very disappointed not to find all these sweets easily. I thought I'd come to Abuja and be able to buy these things in abundance, but nope. It seems that the sweets of my childhood aren't easy to locate any more.

I've managed to track down Dankuwa (in Jos though) and there's also chin chin aplenty which is great, but many others, especially my favourite Alewa, is none-locatable.

I think, many times, Nigerians under-value their traditional, local foods and products and only pour money into internationally accepted snacks. Many of the above mentioned delicasies are only sold by poor children/adults who walk around carrying the products on a tray on their heads.

I'm sure the thought of selling these things in a respectable establishment has occurred to someone, but those that produce them and even those that enjoy them often don't have the capital to do this, or are uneducated so cannot begin the process of  organised commerce.

Others look down on these products as not worthy of being mass produced on a grand scale as part of the food industry for national or even international consumption.

But I would love to open a Hausa Sweet Shop which will stock all these Northern delicasies in one place, and the first branch will be in Abuja. If there was a place like that now I'd be it's most faithful customer!

UPDATE

I've since discovered a couple of supermarkets in Abuja that sell Northern sweets, like Garki Supermarket that sells delicious alkalki, a sweet made of wheat and honey, as well as savoury treats like Danbon Nama (shredded meat) and my new favourite drink Fura da Nono, which is a Fulani speciality.

10 Reasons Why Hausa Nigerians Riot

Northern Nigeria has a long history of religious and ethnic violence, with Hausa/Muslim men the main perpetrators.

In 2002 the Miss World Contest was relocated from Abuja, Nigeria to London because of violent deaths as Hausa-Muslims protested against the competition; in 2005 200 people were killed in Northern states after a Dutch newspaper published cartoons depicting the Prophet Muhammad; In 2007 a Christian teacher was burnt alive by Muslim students after rumours spread that she had dropped the Qur'an, and in 2011 houses were burnt and people killed by angry Hausa/Muslim protesters following the election victory of Southern President Goodluck Jonathan instead of the Northern presidential candidate Muhammadu Buhari.

Rioting Youths in Kano

So are Hausas too aggressive? Does Islam promote violence? Here are 10 reasons why I think there is so much unrest in the North.

1. Easygoing But Serious-Minded

As stated in my previous post 8 Reasons Why You Meet Few Hausas in the UK, Hausas are primarily laid-back people who are more reserved than the exuberant Southerners. But though they have calm personalities, they are very serious-minded about honour and religion. They are easy to get along with but the one thing they never joke about Islam.

2. Strict Nature of Islam

The fact that most Hausas are Muslims also explains their serious personalities and inability to compromise. Islam, as opposed to Christianity, is very strict about its customs which have to be fully obeyed without excuse. Whereas not every Christian fasts for Lent or covers their head when they pray, and Christianity tolerates criticism and casual observance from its followers, Muslim leaders demand total obedience and questioning authority is highly discouraged.

So as Islam has been a major influence in Hausa communities for centuries, it has shaped the Hausa man's strictness and intolerance of dissent. This intolerance is also evident in other Islamic countries like Saudi Arabia and Pakistan where other religions are surpressed.

3. Religious Leaders

The Imams in the Hausa community have a lot of power in influencing the way the people think. But certain Imams, armed with the knowledge that their people are highly intolerant of Islamic disrespect, often provoke Hausa youths to violence to further their own political or economic interests. Most Hausas never even saw the Dutch cartoons, but at the instigation of their Imams they committed murder when told that so-and-so insulted the Prophet.

The Qur'an

4. Lack of Family

The culture of poor Hausa parents sending their young sons off to Islamic boarding schools miles from their homes is a major factor to the prevalence of millions of unsupervised youths (Almajiris) terrorising the streets of Northern Nigeria. These youths grow up with no parental care and are desolate, desperate and unskilled. The lack of moral guidance coupled with the neglect and abuse from their Imams (the kids have to beg for food and money) leaves the almajiris suseptible to criminal activities including murder and vandalism.

5. Islamic Education

Hausa-Muslims despise state education (which they deem western and Christian) and insist on only an Islamic education for their youth, which isolates them from other Nigerians (and the world) in terms of understanding science, maths, writing and other information vital to knowing how the world works. The singular curriculum of a Qur'anic education not only blinds almajiris to universal truths but also disables their ability to deal efficiently in the professional and business arena, and so they remain poor and dependant on Imams who use their ignorance and idleness for violence.

6. Lack of Jobs

A Hausa man with a full time job does not have the time to riot. But many Hausa youths are just as jobless as their Southern counterparts and they can be paid or easily pushed to violence in relation to their religion because Islam is all they know and all they have.

7. Pack Mentality

The Hausa/Fulanis are less likely to inter-marry or mingle with other ethnicities in Nigeria, which means that they remain closely-knit and fiercely defensive of their culture; when you attack one you attack all. The mixture of views and backgrounds in the South makes it harder for people there to come together under one ideology, but the unambiguity of Islam and cultural cohesiveness of the Hausas makes it easier for them to unite to defend their religion.

8. Religion vs Money

Hausas are more religion-conscious than money-conscious. They would rather be thought of as good Muslims than rich men. That is why religious disrespect (also linked to cultural honour) is the only thing that will bring a Hausa man to shout in the streets, whereas in areas like the Niger Delta it is the desire for more oil wealth that gets the youths rioting.

9. Ethnic divisions

The difference between Hausa/Fulanis and other Nigerians is more pronounced because of the influence of Islam. Whereas Yorubas, Igbos and other ethnicities in Nigeria share Christianity, language origins and cultural similarities, the Hausa/Fulanis are distinct, which means issues are easily turned into an 'us' vs 'them' situation.

10. Christianity vs Islam

The New Testament emphasises love for your neighbour, and the statement by Jesus that if someone wrongs you 'turn the other cheek' is well known amongst Christians and non-Christians so that violence is discouraged. But Islam is more tolerant about fighting for your religion ("Fighting is obligatory for you, much as you dislike it" Surah 2:216), and the concept of jihad, infidels and matyrdom leading to paradise is encouraged by Imams.

Islam is also male-dominated and women are separated so that their gentler influence on the religion is absent, as opposed to Christianity where it is often the mother that exemplifies the religion and women fill the church.

?SOLUTION?

Ex-British Prime Minister Tony Blair once said the UK's main objective should be:

"Education, Education, Education"

It is also true for Northern Nigeria. I know Hausa men whose natural inclination towards intolerance has been quelled by mainstream education or Christianity. Education elevated the primitive, barbaric and superstitious European into reasoned men who instituted laws based on fairness and justice and not an ancient book, and it can do the same for Northerners.

Someone once said:

"With or without religion, good people can behave well and bad people can do evil; but for good people to do evil — that takes religion"

This is true of Hausa Muslims. But with a decent state education their religion will stop being a hindrance to their humanity.

Why I Love The Hausa Language

I'm in love with the Hausa language, my mother tongue. I love the beauty of its words and its history and etymology.

When I was younger we spoke it at home as usual, then when my siblings and I started school we started speaking to our parents primarily in English, until soon my mother started speaking to us in English also. So as there was no one around speaking it regularly, I started to forget. 

This was fine at first because in London speaking Hausa was not a requirement. I thought I was still fluent till I dated a Hausa guy and we tried having a conversation and to my horror I found myself having to pause and think before coming up with the right words, or asking him to slow down so I could understand better, and finding out that due to the termination of my Hausa speaking in childhood, most of my vocabulary was domesticated and confined to family/home discourses so that a conversation on the presidential election was beyond my capabilities. 

I was, however, pleased to note that I could still pronounce certain words correctly, like daya (one) or kara (add) where the 'd' and 'k' is a sharp, implosive sound, or tsaya (stand/stay) where the 's' is pronounced with quick 't' before it. These are all tricks of the tongue that can't be easily taught. There's also the subtle differences with words spelt the same way, like gashi which means hair when the last syllable is low, and 'take this' when it is high.

So a phrase with a double sharp 'd' like 'ga gyada mai dadi,' which I remember young girls chanting in Kaduna as they walked by with a tray full of tins of groundnuts on their heads for sale, would be a challenge for non-native speakers.

Hausa is the most widely spoken language from the Chadic languages group, which in turn is part of the Afro-Asiatic language family where Arabic comes from. This makes it distinct from many other African languages, and rather than the drum-beat influenced sounds of Nigerian languages like Yoruba, Hausa has sharper sounds and spiked parts, and extensive use of 'a' and 'i' vowels as opposed to 'o' and 'u'.

(See more explanations of the Hausa language on Wikipedia here)

The historical connection between Hausa/Fulanis and Arab/Asians extends beyond their common Islamic history. Arabic phrases have become part of the Hausa language, e.g. In sha' Allah which means God willing; and Indian film and music styles are emulated amongst Hausa/Fulanis, as is Henna hand decorations for women which originated in India and Islamic clothing styles and head coverings. The ancestory of the nomadic Fulanis, who have an Arabian appearance and are present in other parts of West Africa as well as Nigeria, have also been traced to Mauritania in North Africa. 

People from Mauritania in North Africa

I remember, whilst waiting at a bus stop a while back, hearing the man standing next to me speaking Hausa on the phone. I was amazed! I'd never heard Hausa spoken by a non-family member outside of Nigeria before so I strained to hear him some more and after he ended his call I couldn't resist introducing myself. It was like no matter who he was, we had the Hausa language in common which made him familiar and safe.

I've since made new Hausa friends and they think nothing of speaking to their family and friends in Hausa, but to me, the crisp words are music to my ears and a joyful re-introduction to my history, and as they speaks it's as if my past is unravelled as I remember phrases and words I'd long forgotten. 

Speaking Hausa again is like re-discovering something valuable that you lost without knowing when, so that when you find it again you are pleasantly surprised and hold on tighter to it this time around.

"You Are A Fake Nigerian"

Expert Nigerian: Where are you from?
Me: I am British-Nigerian
Expert Nigerian: Really?
Me: Yes, my parents are from Nigeria
Expert Nigerian: But you don't sound Nigerian...
Me: I know, I can't help that.

Expert Nigerian: You don't even look Nigerian
Me: Well both my parents are fully Nigerian
Expert Nigerian: When was the last time you visited?
Me: I've never been there...yet
Expert Nigerian: Aha! See, how can you belong to a country you've never been to?!
Me: But I keep up to date with all the latest news online and through Nigerian newspapers. I speak with Nigerians back there and around the world all the time

Expert Nigerian: Your name is British...
Me: Yeah, it wasn't originally though. It's a long story...
Expert Nigerian: So you even changed your name?! *shakes head in disbelief*
Me: So because I have a British name I cannot be a real Nigerian?
Expert Nigerian: Well with your British name, British education and not ever visiting there, you are NOT a real Nigerian....
Me: But my heritage, history and family is all Nigerian....
Expert Nigerian: Yes, but your family abandoned the country a long time ago
Me: So? I'm even thinking of going back soon...

Expert Nigerian: You don't know Nigeria at all. Most of what you know you've read from books. It's second hand information
Me: So? It's still valid. I probably know more about the statistics and political situation of the country than some Nigerians living there.
Expert Nigerian: But they live and breathe the air there every day, they have real experiences
Me: I know the National Anthem and Pledge of Allegiance...
Expert Nigerian: So? You've never lived or worked there. You haven't sweated everyday under the hot sun, or drove around on the roads...

Expert Nigerian: You're just a wannabe-Nigerian, a British-Nigerian indeed...
Me: Yes, Indeed.
Expert Nigerian: But you have a British passport. You are a British citizen
Me: I can choose to have a green passport tomorrow if I want. I speak Hausa...
Expert Nigerian: But not fluently...
Me: So? What about the white people born in Nigeria, like Oscar winning British actor Colin Firth of The King's Speech? He was born in Nigeria. If he had chosen to remain there and learnt the language and worked and lived in Lagos and drove home on Nigerian roads everyday in the hot sun, will that make him more Nigerian than me?
Expert Nigerian: *Silence*
Me: The white man that wrote the Hausa dictionary I have, he was a fluent Hausa speaker. Is he more Nigerian than me?
Expert Nigerian: *silence, shakes head*

Me: I may think and dream in English, and I may not be 100% fluent in Hausa, but if you dropped me in Kaduna tomorrow, I will manage...
Expert Nigerian: Yes, but most of your knowledge about Nigeria today is from books. Books and your fellow wannabe-Nigerian friends who visit once a year to put on a fake pidgin accent, then return to their jobs in Britain and forget about Nigeria for the rest of the year.
Me: That's not true. I know Nigerians who live in England but the food they eat, the clothes they wear, the churches they go to, 95% of the people they socialise with and even the shops they buy from is Nigerian. The only thing British about them is the street they live on and the channels on their TV
Expert Nigerian: Yes but...
Me: And I know other 'real Nigerians' who as you say, lived in Nigeria for decades before coming to the UK and speak their language fluently, but they dislike Nigeria and other Nigerians, will never go back to visit and put on a posh accent and pretend they have nothing to do with Nigeria. Are they more Nigerian than me?
Expert Nigerian: Hmm
Me: I love Nigeria. I write about it as a Journalist and blog about it. Nobody makes me keep alive an interest in my country, I choose to. In fact, sometimes it would be easier to forget or deny my heritage. So I think I am worthy to be called a Nigerian. My experiences of the country may be different from yours but I am just as Nigerian as you are. I am as Nigerian as I say I am.

My Muslim and Christian Past

My father was a Fulani Muslim. He went to the mosque most Fridays, wore a Hula and Babanriga and prayed on his ornate prayer mat. I had a muslim name, went to muslim classes and spoke Hausa. Although educated in London, my father retained his Islamic identity and brought us up in his faith, although it was never imposed on us.

Example of a Hula and Babanriga

My mother converted to Islam when she and my father were married, but she still retained her Christian belief and even took us to church sometimes.

Now I'm a Christian. Looking back at my childhood, being a Muslim was easy, and converting to Christianity even easier: one day, in my teens, I was convinced about Christianity after a talk with a family friend. Actually living and making decisions as a Christian hasn't been easy, but religion to me in the past was a simple matter of preference and conviction.

However, the ongoing religious conflicts between Muslims and Christians in places like Jos and other predominantly Muslim Northern states like Kaduna often surprises me. From my family's experiences of living in Kaduna,  the tension prevalent between both faith groups was markedly less obvious until maybe the mid-90s.

A cousin told me of how she and the other neighbourhood kids - both Muslim and Christian - used to all queue up to have a turn on the one swing in their area, which was owned by a wealthier family who allowed the neighbourhood kids access to it most days after school, and walking to school with both her Muslim and Christian friends, and of watching Indian movies with her Muslim next door neighbours. No religious problems there. That was in the 80s when Ibrahim Babangida, a muslim, was Nigeria's president.

President Ibrahim Babangida (1985 - 1993)

I guess today things will be different. I hear of churches being burnt and Christians being beaten, killed and buried in mass graves. The Christians are retaliating too, with Muslims being hunted down and killed en masse. I hear Christians are moving out or being driven out of northern towns and of the general unrest amongst the two religions.

The violence perpetuated in the name of God (although ethnic and social differences are behind a lot of the violence too) is atrocious, widespread and upsetting. But I always remember the harmonious stories of Kaduna, a time when muslims and Christians lived side by side in peace, shopped at the local markets and queued up to buy kose from the same woman seated behind a huge Wok placed on massive stones in which was frying the popular delicacies made from Black-eyed Beans.

A mass grave of Christians killed in religious violence in a village near Jos, Nigeria

Perhaps this is an idealised version of a time long gone, but it's still sad to think that, as a legitimate product of parents and extended family who lived in Kaduna happily for years, I may not receive a warm welcome if I was to visit now because I am a Christian.