I Know it Sounds Crazy, But I Miss Nigeria...

Regular readers of my blog will know by now that I'm not afraid to change my mind. I can stand 100% behind a position today, then change my mind later based on new facts, evidence or change of feelings. (Witness my 'I love her/I love her not/I love her again re: author Chimamanda Adichie) Heck, even my faith in God wavers sometimes. It might be a character flaw, or it might be a sign of intellectual honesty and an unbiased open-mindedness. I'll go with option two.

Whatever it is, the fact is that contrary to my kinda negative portrayal of Nigeria in a previous post and my rush to leave it a few months ago, I now miss it. I miss Nigeria. I wish I didn't though. It would be so much easier to turn my back on it, what with its Boko Haram and Ebola and a plethora of misfortunes and calamities and dangers and problems facing the country every day, plus the impending elections in 2015 that many predict will cause even more bloody unrest.

 Good ole' Nigeria: My embattled country

But I lay down at night and wish I was back in Abuja.

There are two major factors that draw me back to Nigeria, one of which is my profession. Yes folks, being back in England has humbled me career-wise. Where in Nigeria I was top of the food chain thanks to my impressive British education, training and experience; impressive portfolio of previous work, impeccable British accent and the confidence that comes with knowing your country values you and wants you, which shines through and makes you even more attractive to prospective employers and clients; in England I'm having to start from the bottom again, not that I was ever even at the top to begin with.

My almost three years abroad has knocked my professional trajectory back down a few pegs, but more than that is my own perception of self. I feel less wanted here. My colour, my experience, my time spent abroad in an unsavoury country, all of that has merged together to give me an inferiority complex, which I presume is written all over my face as I sit in waiting rooms waiting to be interviewed. The chip on my shoulder must be so big right now. Sometimes I even talk myself out of a job before applying: "Nah, The Guardian wouldn't want me, I didn't go to Oxbridge and I'm the wrong kind of Black."

 Bad News: They didn't want me

Actually, regarding The Guardian newspaper, despite its credentials as a liberal, left-wing publication and champion of minorities, I went to its offices in London for a job training/interview stint years ago and was blown away by how male-white-middle-class the whole office was. There were maybe two white women, no brown or Black faces and everyone there were of a certain 'type,' the type that go to Starbucks and order Fairtrade organic lattes, wear distressed jeans, spent a year in Africa working for a charity, are vegetarians, want to live in Brixton but send their children to private school and buy modern art. I felt so out of place there (I'm not a vegetarian and Africa to me is a reality, not a facilitator of my yearnings to be a good person) and it must have affected my performance because I didn't get the job.

I don't wish to play the race card, in fact I hate it when people play the race card, but I'm afraid that after returning from Nigeria - where I felt so good about being me; so wanted, celebrated even, for being me; where I rubbed shoulders with the movers and shakers of society and met and worked with important people, where all that I am was cradled and nurtured and upheld as wonderful (I could also spell better and type faster than most people out there too, I felt like a superhero) - the British job market has being a slight shock to the system. I started to question my abilities. Maybe I'm not as good as I thought. Or maybe I am and they just refuse to see it and give me a chance because I am Black.

Race relations in the UK is miles better than what it is in other non-African countries of course, and there are vast swathes of England where your colour doesn't affect you negatively, and I can honestly say that apart from two instances when I was in my late teens where I'd visited a majority-white part of Surrey and some silly young men shouted racial slurs at me, one from a high rise building and the other from a moving car (I still think maybe I heard them wrong), I have never faced any overt racism in England in my life.

Sure there are instances when I felt I should have positively gotten that job because I was so right for it, and when I didn't I was convinced it's cos I was Black and didn't pass the 'Can I hang out comfortably with her down the pub after work' test by my would-be employers. But on the whole, I never thought being Black held me back until I finished a Masters degree and still couldn't get a nice journalism job (the kind that came with a business card). Then I went to Nigeria and finally tasted success, then returned to England again and saw that such success is hardly enjoyed by people that look like me, and the Blacks that are successful here are of a certain type too. Damn, I wish I'd gone to Oxford. I had the grades for it, but I didn't pursue it because I thought I'd feel out of place there. It's my biggest regret in life.

My children MUST go to Oxford or Cambridge. It's like the only thing that can guarantee your success if you're Black in the UK.

So I long for Nigeria because I feel ignored and not up to par in England, and having to go from Editor to Office Administrator has been oh so depressing. I feel like shouting out: "Don't you know who I am? I used to chair weekly Editorial meetings you know! I have a Masters' Degree for Christ's sake!"

I work in central London surrounded by huge beautiful office buildings made of glass, and I envy the immaculately dressed ladies in their heels and skirt suits that call such buildings 'My Office,' whilst I wear flats and my colleagues will look at me in wonder if I dressed in a suit. I also noticed that the Black people I see in this part of town are almost always shabbily dressed in jeans and trainers; the Black/minority ethnic service class that serve the white business class.

My Future London office: Amen

Sure I can work my way to the top, but how long will that take? And can I ever achieve the career highs in London that I enjoyed in Abuja? Will a qualified Black woman under 30 ever be the sub-editor of a British national newspaper? I doubt it. Not only are the requirements more stringent in England (the standards are admittedly lower in Nigeria, although this should not detract from my suitability), but there is always a white person that the employer feels will be 'more suited' to the role, or who has the right look or better education or upbringing or experience or looks like the employer's nephew or uncle.

I guess I shouldn't blame them though, like employs like. The subtle and overt tribalism in Nigeria is similar to the subtle and overt racism is in England. But rather than work hard to break the Black ceiling, I just want to return to a country that likes me as I am. A country that will gladly take me back.

I also miss the freedom of being in Nigeria. I don't feel as constrained there. Here if you step out of line even a little bit, even innocently, like for instance parking in the wrong place by accident, you get into trouble straight away, no second chances. In Nigeria things are more laid back, more casual. You can smile your way out of trouble, and rules that hurt no one can be bent (I know Nigeria takes this philosophy way too far though.)

In Nigeria, in a land where anything goes, I felt emboldened to LIVE. Life was for the taking, and if you can get it, it's yours. You could go from zero to millionaire in a matter of days, and the rewards for good work knows no bounds. Generosity of wealth and spirit abound, and you could start a business tomorrow that will make you money immediately, no lengthy paperwork and licenses needed.

In England things are more prescribed and limited. No sudden moves. It's a stay in your lane, paycheck to paycheck lifestyle, and as winter approaches, a grey cloud seems to descend on everyone and we all stay deep in our daily routines; everyone in big black coats under grey skies, all living for the weekend or the next holiday abroad to somewhere sunny.

I also felt thoroughly invested in Nigeria. I felt that I was part of the narrative. I complained with everyone about everything, but deep down it felt good to have ownership over the woes of the nation. Nigeria still being problematic after 54 years of Independence was my problem too, and I wanted to make it better. I had a voice that sounded like everyone else's. Nigeria was mine for the loving, hating, liking. But in England, sometimes I feel detached from the primary concerns of most of its citizens, and other times I am actively opposed to the popular opinion.

The British love cats and dogs and there are several TV programmes and charities dedicated to their welfare, but I care not a jot for pets. Homosexuality is also now normal here, when I left England in 2011 I don't recall homosexual couples being on home improvement, antique hunts and other mundane aspects of British TV, but now every other couple on TV seems to be gay! Then there is the national preoccupation with cancer. Every where you go one organisation or another is trying to fight and beat cancer, but I don't want this disease shoved down my throat every day. Yes it affects many people, but do let's stop going on about it.

Then there's the average British person's love of a good moan. They moan about everything here, and their hate for politicians is so uncalled for, especially when British politicians are actively working hard in their jobs and are genuine public servants, and the minute they do something wrong they're out (did you hear about the journalist who faked a Twitter account to seduce an MP, and when he fell for it and sent back pictures of himself in pyjamas, the MP had to resign?). They should all try living in Nigeria for a week, they'll run back and hug all their MPs. Those on benefits moan that the council won't give them a bigger house, can you imagine? In Nigeria if your local House of Rep member gives you a bag of rice in his bid to get re-elected, you rejoice, here they are bitterly complaining that the free house and free money the government gives them is not enough.

In Nigeria, despite the harsh, unfair circumstances, Nigerians have the best sense of humour about it all. They insult and rain down curses on their leaders, but their patriotism is alive and well. They get up and get on with it, they hustle and they make life work for them. They have terrible habits some of them, but no one sits and complains and expects the government to help them lose weight or stop smoking or give them contentment, cos they know that's not happening.

I also like that Nigerians are on average religious-minded and traditionally inclined; they value marriage, respect, morals and propriety. Even though many sins occur behind closed doors, they are eager to portray a respectable facade. But in England, tradition is receding and nothing is sacred anymore. Anything goes in the name of post-modernity, and my traditionally-minded self cannot hack it.

So there are many aspects of British life that I feel is alien to my experience. Whearas in Nigeria, I felt plugged into every social issue and felt as strongly about certain things that ordinary Nigerians did. I could (and very nearly did) join protests in Nigeria about various issues, but I can't see myself protesting about anything in England.

I visit Nigerian blogs every day and follow many Nigerians on Twitter- I'm avidly keeping abreast of Nigerian news and views because it's more alive to me.

Does that mean I'm not British enough? I guess I fit into my 'Nigerian coat' better than I fit into my 'British coat,' but the irony is that in Nigeria I am more British than Nigerian to everyone else, and in England I'm Black British and that's OK, but it also means I find more people like me on the lower echelons of society than at the top, which is where I want to be.

Could this be a case of the grass being always greener on the other side? Human nature is a funny thing: a few months ago I couldn't wait to leave Abuja, now I'm yearning after the very thing I ran from. Don't get me wrong, England is a fabulous country and I'm lucky to be able to enjoy its many privileges, the NHS being number one. If I could take the NHS with me I would relocate to Nigeria tomorrow.

I guess I want to have my cake and eat it too. I want to to succeed, but in a safe country.

So I'm torn you guys. One minute I want to stay in England and make it work because it will be so worth it in the end, then the next I want to run back to Nigeria so I can feel alive and be called 'Madam' again. Then I think of falling sick in Abuja or of Boko Haram and I thank God I'm back in England. Sigh.

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.

Movies, Race & Politics: Half of a Yellow Sun vs Beasts of No Nation

I just watched Beasts of No Nation, mostly because of the furore surrounding the fact that its most recognisable star Idris Elba, who I greatly admire, was amongst the black actors absent from this year's Oscar nominations. Apparently BONN should have received nominations for Best Picture or for Elba or the child star Abraham Attah, who was quite brilliant in the role of normal kid turned child soldier.

Idris Elba: A fine actor and a fine man

#OscarsSoWhite?

But I feel that the whole #OscarsSoWhite controversy is uncalled for. I think that African Americans are been entirely too demanding, I mean, what if out of 12 movies up for contention, the best five had white actors in the lead? Should a black actor be included in the running simply because of his skin colour despite not being good enough? Jada Pinkett Smith, the most vocal of the complainers never got any sympathy from me. Her husband Will Smith, although lovely, perhaps wasn't good enough in Concussion, a film for which Pinkett Smith feel he should have been nominated for Best Actor. I haven't seen it so I can't say.

Will Smith and Jada Pinkett Smith: Black Hollywood's power couple

But I just saw the whole hoopla as another way the liberal media forces people and establishments to tow the liberal line by instantly demonising anything or anyone - whether it be a social media posting or a comment/action captured on video or recorded - deemed sexist (against women though, rarely against men), racist, anti-Semitic, anti-Muslim, anti-transgender or homophobic and forcing everybody to never air an opinion outside the 'accepted norm.'

In American political terms, where once I was a Democrat who proudly attended President Obama's inauguration in Washington, as I've grown older I've become more Republican (minus the love of guns). Today I would call myself a Conservative Libertarian, so I feel free speech should apply to everyone without fear of sanction unless they threaten violence, and everyone has the right to be offended. But these days the 'Hallowed Six' of Women, Blacks, Jews, Muslims, Transgenders and Gays have achieved a status in the mainstream and social media where their causes are championed without prejudice and any perceived 'hate speech' against them is instantly jumped on and stamped out, with perpetrators insulted and banished. Where's the freedom in that?

Duck Dynasty Star: Fired because of his Biblical views on homosexuality

Celebrity Big Brother 2016: Winston McKenzie was the first to be voted out of the house to a chorus of boos when he spoke out against homosexuality. His angry, tearful house mates said they couldn't live with someone like him and there were numerous complaints from the public about his words. Now who's being intolerant?

The bad guys in this new order of things are Christians, traditionalists, non-Westerners, the older generation and the independent-thinking brave who are in disagreement with some actions of the Hallowed Six. Now I'm not advocating hate, but the freedom to disagree and air differing views about these groups. I don't agree with homosexuality, and being a Black woman, another may dislike me because of my race or sex, but we should both be allowed to hash it out without it being a crime, because that is life. I once had a long and heated debate about God on Twitter with a white, atheist American man, where I spoke about my faith and he said that if he ever met God he'd spit in his face. But in the end we politely signed off and I felt that I had benefited from the exchange.

No need pretending we all love each and are all okay with outlandish events like a man turning into a woman (see my post: Bruce Jenner and the Moral Decay of Society). And those who believe that the Bible is against such and such shouldn't be booed out of a public space. They should be entitled to their say and their opinions respected. You may ignore them or argue against them, but don't fire them, sue or imprison them or force them to apologise and recant their genuine opinions. It should be as easy to say 'I don't agree with homosexuality' as saying 'I don't like onions.' It's simply an opinion.

That's why I like Donald Trump. He's been so delightfully un-PC and counter-cultural in his Presidential campaign that I enjoy many of his utterances. Sure he lacks the diplomacy, tolerance or temperament to be a good President, but boy has he shaken things up and given those of us who believe what we believe a boost. Plus, watching him on many seasons of The Apprentice, he never once came across as a bigot in any way, and many others have stated that they've never seen this intolerant side of him, so I believe the promise of power has turned him into the worst version of himself. But I digress.

Donald Trump: He may be extreme but I like his fearless chutzpah

So the oppressed have now become the oppressor, a militant enforcement watchdog who clamp down on true diversity of opinion. They might still face hardships in the real world, but online and in the media they rule. This means blacks are always right and deserving of every accolade on a 50:50 even split with whites, despite being only about 13% of the population in America, less than 5% in the UK and not being well represented equally in every field simply because of lack of numbers or talent.

Not every movie with a Black lead will be Oscar-worthy, and even white people are snubbed by the Academy Awards, like Leonardo DiCaprio, who has never won despite being in many brilliant films in recent times. It happens. And remember when Lupita Nyong'o won a Best Supporting Actress award in 2014 for like, 10 minutes of screen time in 12 Years a Slave? Or when Jennifer Hudson won the same award in 2007 for singing in Dream Girls? Wouldn't you say the Academy was working hard to recognise Black talent that some say were undeserving? And also, a black woman has won Best Supporting Actress in 2007, 2010, 2011, 2012 and 2014.

Or how about when, in 2002 Denzel Washington won Best Actor for Training Day, the same year Halle Berry won Best Actress for Monster's Ball, yet some Black people were grumbling that despite the fact that in the majority of his roles he depicted fine, upstanding men of honour, Denzel was only recognised by the Academy after playing crooked detective in Training Day, and as for Halle, she got the gong after debasing herself by rumping with the white man who executed her Black husband in Monster's Ball. (I must admit, that sex scene she was in was really raw and she was fully naked when most actresses of her calibre are usually partially covered.)

Aren't they so beautiful? Oscars 2002, the best year for African Americans

Sure I also agree that Angela Bassett was robbed of a Best Actress gong playing Tina Turner in What's Love Gotta Do With It?, but Jamie Foxx was outstanding as Ray Charles in Ray, I mean so outstanding I forgot I was watching Foxx at all. He absolutely deserved the Best Actor trophy for that in 2005. So guys, it's not like the Academy never acknowledges black talent, it does, but it can't please everyone all of the time, especially not a belligerent minority who demand accolades every year.

I feel African Americans want to have their cake and eat it too: they continue the Blacks only BET, Soul Train and NAACP awards, stating that they need to celebrate themselves because the mainstream doesn't, yet no award can be all-white these days without backlash. They expect representation in mainstream award shows, but you can't segregate yourselves then come out to play when you want. Will Smith's former co-star on The Fresh Prince of Bel Air Janet Hubert stated it so hilariously on this video.

This Oscars Equality Fight would be commendable if it were occurring at a different time, but in today's Zeitgeist where everyone on the internet and on TV seems to be drinking from the same Kool-Aid of being anti-establishment, anti-tradition and anti-religion, and where political correctness polices everyone's words at pains of losing your job and reputation, I think it's all just more bullying by the Liberatti to get us all to accept freedom and inclusion without boundaries, rules or absolutes.

Beasts of No Nation

Apart from wanting to see Elba in a role many have praised, I also wanted to support the rarity of a Black Brit with West African parents doing so well in Hollywood. But at first BONN held no interest for me: I dislike war films set in Africa where all the ugliness of the continent is on gory display. Films like Hotel Rwanda, although brilliant, left me with a desolate feeling towards Africa and its many issues. I want to enjoy a film without feeling sad about what it says about my people.

Beasts of No Nation: Featuring breakout child star Abraham Attah

I've also met Elba at a movie event once, and he's as charming in person as he appears on screen. So I watched BONN, having previously heard of but not read the book which was written by Harvard-educated doctor Uzodinma Iweala, son of Ngozi Okonjo Iweala, Nigeria's former Minister of Finance. Despite her controversies as a politician, I did some research on Okonjo Iweala's family; turns out both herself and her husband, all four of her children and even her parents were Harvard graduates with PhDs aplenty. Talk about generational pedigree!

Harvard Alumni: Uzodinma Iweala (centre) Author of Beasts of No Nation with his mum Ngozi Okonjo-Iweala and dad Ikemba Iweala 

BONN was set in an 'unspecified West African country', and I immediately thought that it must be Nigeria. I assumed Iweala didn't want to specify because he didn't want the book to be unfairly pre-judged because of the country's negative image. So I was surprised the film was set in Ghana with mostly Ghanaian actors. I wondered if Ghana was an easier country to film in or Ghanaian actors better to work with.

The young boy who played Agu (a Nigerian name) was really good. He wasn't wooden or obviously 'acting' like the Nigerian kid actors I've seen, he was very real in his emotions and the part where he meets Elba's Commandant for the first time and tells him about his family's massacre was very touching. His fellow child soldier companion Striker was also a gem, that kid never spoke but he moved me immensely with his pained eyes.

Beasts of No Nation: Director Cary Joji Fukunaga, Abraham Atta and Idris Elba

Elba was good too, but not fantastic, and probably not Oscar-worthy. I like him best so far in Daddy's Little Girls, and I've just started watching Luther and he's great in that too. BONN's director, Attah and the story were commendable, but all were snubbed. I'll support the case for racism being behind its omission  in the Oscar contenders, if not for the fact that Netflix, the makers of the film, decided to stream it on their platform at the same time it came out in the theatres, which violated an industry rule. Maybe that was why the movie was snubbed. Either way it's a massive shame.

Half of a Yellow Sun

So after watching BONN, which is based on a book about war written by a Nigerian and starring a UK/US based African in a lead role, I compared it to Half of a Yellow Sun by Nigerian author Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie set in the 60s during the Nigerian civil war. I'd read the book years ago and liked it. I mean, I love Adichie, as noted by my many posts praising her brilliance. But unlike BONN, HOAYS was a mess.

Half of a Yellow Sun

The controversy surrounding casting Thandie Newton as Olanna and Anika Noni Rose as Kainene, two Western women playing Nigerian characters was never a problem for me. Both are capable, recognisable actresses and when a major International movie studio is financing the film, you can't realistically cast Nigerian actors in lead roles. They don't have the bankability and they're not as good. Nigerian home-grown actors are, 99% of the time, terrible by international standards, and the handful who aren't were in HOAYS, namely Genevieve Nnaji and Onyeka Onwenu who did well in their supporting roles as Ms Adebayo and Odenigbo's mother respectively. Onwenu's particularly luminous performance was rightfully praised in all the reviews I read that mentioned her.

Chiwetel Ejiofor can do no wrong in my eyes. I've loved him and followed his work and wrote profiles about him for years, my favourite of his roles being the brooding, dignified immigrant doctor in Dirty Pretty Things. He was good but not great in HOAYS, as he mostly reacted to Newton, whose 'angry-Black-woman' shtick is becoming all too familiar in this and roles in The Pursuit of Happyness and Crash, although she was brilliant in the latter.

But alas, the problem with HOAYS wasn't really the actors, but the direction by UK-based Nigerian Biyi Bandele. He was the wrong guy to helm this movie and they really should have given it to a well-trained, tried and tested and capable director, preferably an American.

Biyi Bandele: Good at directing MTV Africa's soap Shuga, but not an international movie

Upon reading reviews of HOAYS, it struck me how often many stated that 'the book was better,' and agreed with me that those who have not read the book will have no way of understanding the film in its fullness. It lacked context and omitted many important qualities of the book. With BONN, I'd never read the book yet followed the film, there were no huge plot holes and no character felt underdeveloped. But in HOAYS, village boy turned author Ugwu, one of the three main characters in the book was rendered unimportant in the film despite the fact that his coming of age story, his turn as a soldier, his love for Odenigbo and his family and his carnal desires were highlights of the novel. Also Richard, the shy white Brit had far too few lines and was a bit of a pathetic observer in the film, when he was much more endearing in the book.

The physical differences and animosity between twin sisters Olanna and Kainene was not depicted. Kainene's dry wit, aloofness and envy/hate of her sister was fascinating to me, yet none of it was addressed, and the fall out from Olanna sleeping with Richard was mishandled. Many reviewers thought the film was like a soap/melodrama at points, and that the savagery of the Biafran war, which was most memorably represented by images of malnourished kids with kwashiokor was absent. I agree.

Anika Noni Rose as Kainene and Thandie Newton as Olanna in Half of a Yellow Sun

I watched the film and after 20 minutes, I was just waiting for it to be over. The love scenes between Newton and Ejiofor was too much, and Newton was a bit too shrill for me; Olanna in the book was more centred and well-rounded. Whereas BONN carried me along and although it was brutal in places, it felt like a 'real film by a real film maker' and not some honorary project. I wonder what Adichie thought of the film. In her latest book Americanah, she thanked Thandie Newton in the acknowledgements which I thought curious. But after watching HOAYS, I understand now that they must have hit it off during the film.

Now that Lupita Nyong'o has bought the film rights to Americanah and plans to play the lead role of Ifemelu herself, I'm a bit worried that this book too will be a disaster on the big screen. But the key to the success of Americanah the movie is simply a good director and a great screenplay that will capture the fire and fierceness of Ifemelu's thoughts on race, racism and America. Adichie's books have to be rendered well to do justice to her brilliant writing.

Nnamdi Asomugha, Concussion and Fela

I saw in the credits that one of the executive producers of BONN was Nnamdi Asomugha, the NFL player and husband of Scandal actress Kerry Washington. That was a nice surprise, as it turns out he's more than just Washington's husband because the second-generation Nigerian has also won awards for his philanthropy and charity work around America and Nigeria. Good for him.

Kerry Washington and Nnamdi Asomugha

His involvement in BONN reminds me of how one Nigerian, Ayo Shonaiya spoke up against the shade many Nigerians threw on Will Smith's Oscar Contender film Concussion, which is about a Nigerian-American doctor Bennet Omalu who uncovered the truth about brain damage in American football players. A positive Nigerian character in a sea of negativity, yet what irked many Nigerians was the fact that Smith's Nigerian accent was poor. Unlike Elba's Commandant in BONN, who did not only do the accent well but also the mannerisms and the 'ahs' and 'ehs' exclamations that punctuate the sentences of West Africans. He was a believable African (well, his parents are from Sierra Leone and Ghana) but Smith wasn't.

Will Smith with the real Dr Bennet Omalu

Shonaiya stated that Nigerians should ignore his accent and be pleased that a powerhouse like Smith put his resources behind this film, just as Smith along with his wife and Jay Z put their mettle behind the staging of Fela! on Broadway when the rich Nigerians that were asked to finance it refused.

I saw Fela! at the Sadler Wells theatre in London and it was a great show, although I was irked that the actor playing Fela wasn't Nigerian, but a Sierra Leonan-American Sahr Ngaujah whose pidgin English was poor. I too fell into the trap of focusing on the unimportant and ignoring the blessed magnitude of the respectful homage paid to one of Africa's biggest, best and most important musician by other Blacks. It's sad how during the major anniversaries of Fela's death, there are tributes in London museums, music venues and in newspapers and radio, yet nothing of note is done in Nigeria to celebrate the icon.

Broadway poster for Fela!

That powerful African Americans and British Blacks are in a position to finance and bring the stories of Africa and Africans to a larger audience is something to be proud of, who cares that they don't speak pidgin with the inflections of a Lagosian?



*I think an apology is in order to readers of this blog for my long delay between posts (seven months!) It had to do with many things, not least of which was my personal disillusionment with my Fulani heritage due to private experiences and the systematic, criminal and murderous actions of some Fulani herdsmen/young men in Nigeria. More on that soon, once I figure out how to address it all... 

Now That Nigeria's President Is a Fulani Man...

Muhammadu Buhari - a Fulani man from Daura in Katsina State - was inaugurated as the 5th democratically elected President of Nigeria on Friday May 29th 2015 in a landmark event that Nigerians had waited for since March, when he was declared the winner of the 2015 elections.

President Muhammadu Buhari during his inauguration

His was a victory much heralded after 16 long years of the corruption-riddled rule of the People's Democratic Party, most recently headed by the now former President Goodluck Jonathan. A determined Buhari triumphed at his fourth try at the Presidency, and his All Progressives Congress (APC) Party gained power at a crucial time when Nigeria is been battered on every side by Boko Haram, fuel scarcity, electricity shortages, the colossal theft of the country's funds and reserves by the few at the expense of the many; spates of kidnappings and the continued dearth in the basic funding of hospitals, schools, roads and agriculture.

Buhari's Fulani Characteristics

Hopes are high that President Buhari, more than any other Presidential contender or leader in recent times, will impose order and stem the tide of iniquity and the haemorrhaging of the country's oil money, purely because of his impeachable character.

His intolerance of corruption and disciplined approach to leadership, along with his simplicity and integrity witnessed during his short-lived first stint leading Nigeria between 1983 and 1985 - then as a military head of state - is widely acknowledged by all and sorely needed at a time when Nigerian leaders have been widely derided for being incompetent. One of his main initiatives during his previous tenure was his War Against Indiscipline, which saw armed officials firmly maintaining order in such civic responsibilities as straight queues and punctuality at work.

General Buhari in the 80s when he was the military head of state

Buhari is a classic example of a stern, self-effacing Fulani man; simple in his ways, firm in his convictions and committed to a sense of duty. Like many Fulani men, he stands tall and erect, is slim yet sturdy and has an unlined face that looks younger than his 72 years, with dignified mannerisms and a regal walk. Like many Fulani men, ostentatious displays of wealth and garish trappings of riches is far from his mind. Despite being a former President and former head of the NNPC and PTF where he had access to billions, he has no overseas mansions or fleet of luxury cars to his name.

Instead Buhari has his much beloved home in Daura, as well as a farm and the customary Fulani sign of success: cattle. His simplicity was such that he once remarked that he only has only one million Naira in his bank account, in an age where Nigerian men of his political experience have billions of dollars in several accounts.

President Buhari (centre) at his farm in Daura with some of his cows

Buhari's upright, no-nonsense character can be attributed to both his nature as a Fulani man and his nurturing as a retired army general old enough to imbibe many of the disciplined traits the former colonial masters instituted in the country, that was evidenced until the 1980s. He belongs to the generation that wore starched shirts, read newspapers in the mornings and books in the evenings, spoke with British inflections (not the faux-American accents affected today) and behaved with decorum in public.

Buhari and Boko Haram

Too young to remember his first outing, two things stood out to me from his inaugural speech at his second coming; his now famous line: "I belong to everybody and I belong to nobody" was a journalist's dream in terms of concisely capturing Buhari's proposed leadership style in nine words. He was saying he is a man of the people but is beholden to no one; he is ready to listen to all but owes nobody anything.

The other thing was his assertion that: "Boko Haram is a mindless, godless group who are as far away from Islam as one can think of." This clinched it for me. Before his win, there were concerns by the opposing PDP party that Buhari was a sympathiser of Boko Haram, and being a staunch Muslim, would bring Sharia Law to all parts of Nigeria. I was wary of him, but by the beginning of the year I along with most Nigerians were so desperate for relief from PDP that we were willing to give even Buhari a try. His win was welcomed because finally a change had come, and there was no anarchy to mark the end of the elections and the predicted disintegration of Nigeria was avoided, with credit for that going to Jonathan's early phone call to Buhari to concede defeat.

But I still wondered about Buhari's religious intentions, until he made that statement. It allayed my fears, and his efforts in the first week after resuming power of moving the military to the heart of the insurgency in Borno State and meeting with other West African Presidents to discuss how to end Boko Haram speaks of man that has made getting rid of these terrorists a priority.

Buhari's Wife

Aisha Buhari was thrust into the limelight during the latter stages of Buhari's presidential campaign, where her clear-headed speeches in support of her husband and her grace and decorum was in direct contrast to Jonathan's wife Patience, whose forceful rants and 'Bulldog in a China Shop' approach to things rankled. Mrs Buhari's reserved beauty is another welcome change, as is her eloquence.

President Buhari's wife Aisha, a Fulani woman from Adamawa State

A Fulani woman from Adamawa State, the new First Lady married Buhari in 1989 when she was 18 years old. She is his second wife (Buhari divorced his first wife Safinatu, with whom he had four girls and a boy) and they have five children, four girls: Amina, Halima, Zarah and Aisha and a boy named Yusuf.

President Buhari with his late first wife Safinatu and their five children

Educated up to Masters level with training and certificates in professional beauty treatments and management from various universities both in Nigeria and abroad, Mrs Buhari, until her husband's presidency ran a Beauty Spa in Kaduna and Abuja.

                                     

President Buhari and his wife Aisha during his inauguration

Although always covered up with only her face and hands showing, and wearing a wrap around her body in public, the bespectacled Aisha Buhari gets her makeup professionally done, wears expensive jewellery and even wore fashionably-darkened glasses during the inauguration, where her all white attire matched her husband's. This First Lady, I believe, will be characterised by carefully selected media utterances in national matters relating to women, children and her family, and displays of pricey fashionable pieces complimenting modest clothing designs befitting of a prominent Hajiya when she accompanies her husband to state functions.

I doubt she will seek the limelight, seek political power for herself, engage in politics with male politicians or show any signs of friction or disagreements with her husband in public, unlike her predecessor. I've heard that Mrs Buhari is no wallflower and is quite formidable within her close circles, but hers will be a reserved tenure where she will be largely invisible.

But only time will tell.

Buhari's Beautiful Brood

Buhari is a father of 10 and is blessed with seven beautiful daughters (his first-born daughter with his first wife died during childbirth) and an equally handsome young son, whose striking good looks captivated Nigerians on social media in the run-up to his inauguration.

Zahra Buhari: The face that launched a thousand votes

First to be thrust into public adulation was one of Buhari's younger daughters Zarah, who attends a university in England. Her pictures and tweets were hugely popular and many praised her beauty; she received marriage proposals and some vowed to vote for her father simply because they admired her.

Zarah was then photographed along with her brother walking behind their father at Nnamdi Azikiwe airport in Abuja as they arrived from the UK days before the inauguration. Girls drooled over Zarah's brother, Yusuf, whose easy good looks and calm demeanour marked him out as his father's son.

Zarah walking behind her father with her brother Yusuf

On the day of their father's inauguration, the Buhari girls took a photograph with their mother/step-mother, and Nigeria rejoiced at the nation having such a photogenic First Family, whose ladies were pretty, proper and poised. Most of the girls are now married with children, except the youngest two (below in blue), and no doubt their weddings and future milestones will be grand events.

Buhari's Beautiful Brood: His daughters and wife pose for the cameras 

A New Fulani Era

President Buhari's victory has brought a Fulani man with a Fulani-influenced style of leadership to Aso Rock, and his Fulani family with Fulani values, traditions and style will be of huge interest to me personally and for this blog. 

I look forward to a firm and competent leader, whose anti-corruption stance will influence the rest of Nigeria and whose tenure will be marked by huge strides in combating many of the ills plaguing the country. A leader whose simplicity is powered by his Fulaniness and who will reconfigure and continue on with the various successes of previous Fulani presidents. I look forward to a First Lady who will be more like former first lady, the late Maryam Babangida in carriage and influence, and who will enhance and not obstruct her husband's leadership. 

Nigerians can look forward to lessons in modest femininity from Buhari's daughters, in stark contrast to the slack, salacious and over-exposed lifestyles of many young women today. I look forward to seeing more of the seemingly shy Yusuf Buhari, who will no doubt inherit the better characteristics of his father.

I'm sure there will be some drama, disappointments, controversies and rumours surrounding them at some point in their first four years and beyond, but I believe that on the whole the Buharis will always be respectable in public (if not in private) as they take center stage as the most famous Fulani family in the world.

The Olympics and The Bragging Games

So the biggest event to ever happen in my dear city of London is the Olympics, and I miss it completely. OK not completely, I got to watch the whole thing on TV.

I was impressed with the legends that Michael Phelps, Usain Bolt and Mo Farrah, welled up with emotion singing the British national anthem at the medal ceremonies, was disappointed with the weird and lackluster opening ceremony (the best bit was the Queen jumping out of the helicopter) kinda liked the closing ceremony, especially the Spice Girls and Oasis singing Wonderwall; and disappointed that the small African country of Gabon won a silver medal, and even Afghanistan won something yet Nigeria came home with nothing.

Anthony Obame from Gabon won a Silver medal in Taekwondo

My family were on holiday away from England during much of August so I decided to postpone my visit home until later in the year, but I still went through a mini depression wishing I was back in London to experience everything live. Many people I knew had tickets to the games or were volunteers and others told me about the electric atmosphere that was charged all around the city, and I was kicking myself that I wasn't there. 

Now I’m planning to be in Rio in four years for the 2016 Olympics. But seeing that seven years ago, when London first won the bid to host the games, I’d planned that by 2012 I’d be married with five kids, be the editor of my own lifestyle magazine, own a house in South London and watch all the track and field events live with my family, I now know that things don’t always happen as planned. I would never have imagined I’d be living and working in Abuja with new and wonderful friends and family in 2012. It’s amazing how plans and desires can change.

   

Speaking of new friends, I’ve been in Nigeria long enough now to note one major difference between how Nigerians interact compared with the British: Bragging. Whether insidious, implied or obvious, when a group of people come together in Nigeria they jostle for position; who has foreign education, who lives in or visited (or their mother/brother/uncle lives in or visited) the UK or US, who has the most expensive designer thing from abroad etc.

Now, my British friends and I would find such ‘showing off’ distasteful. The British way is to be modest and mention your achievements when necessary. I once worked in an office in London with PhD Doctors and reputable engineers, and I had no idea until I was privy to their employment records, and found out that at least five of my co-workers had many published books to their name and were somewhat celebrated in their fields. I mentioned this to them and one blushed, and I jokingly insisted on calling another one ‘Dr’ and he laughingly declined, telling me not to be so silly.

But in Nigeria, such men and women would insist on everyone addressing them as Dr so and so and would find every opportunity to ‘casually’ mention their doctorate or study abroad, and would believe they were better than their non-lettered colleagues.

I have models, editors, chattered accountants, film makers and well-traveled people amongst my group of friends, but we wouldn't dream of recounting our every accomplishment when we got together. But not so in Nigeria. Here people find reasons to continuously mention their foreign experiences, the purchase of their 'authenticly foreign' weave/iPad/washing machine/designer bag.

Not everyone does it, but too many do. I find it all unnecessary and uncouth. But I guess it’s different for me: where visiting London is considered something to shout about for them, I grew up there. Where buying a washing machine is impressive here, such appliances are standard installations in houses where I come from. And where buying a bag imported from Italy is noteworthy here, my friends and I go to Italy to buy such bags.

So I find myself retreating from such conversations. I don’t want ladies to compete with me in a game I have no intention of playing, and even if I were to play, would win anyway. And many times people lie to make their lives seem more fabulicious than it really is. It’s silly, exhausting and sad. And I find that when I casually mention something about my life in England, to them it’s like I've upped the ante and they feel challenged to offer their own fantastic story.

My friend in Ghana (we left England together at the same time) also reports of such ‘Bragging Games’ among Ghana’s high-flying young people, where some girls falsify their accents in comical ways to prove they’ve lived abroad; one girl always managed to work in stories about her time studying for her Masters in Atlanta into every conversation, and one guy spent 10 minutes displaying his various mobile phones and recounting how much each cost.  

It’s slightly worrying really. Here we are, my friend and I, trying to embrace our Africanness, recapture the culture we’d lost or forgotten and play down our ‘otherness’ in the motherland, whilst our African peers are busy trying to prove their Westernness by feverishly attaining the trappings of Western culture that we think little of in order to gain respect.

Sometimes, if you can’t beat them you join them. But not me. My inherent Fulani-shyness and adopted British reserve merge together to prevent me from all the braggadacious displays of Western-originated wealth or education, or revel in the celebrity this brings. I was never into all those status symbols and expensive fashions whilst in England anyway, and I’m not about to enter that world now.

Sure I speak of my experiences, but only when asked or when it’s genuinely relevant. To do otherwise would be vulgar.

4 Things I Noticed About Working in Abuja

I've been working in Abuja for a few months now and I'm enjoying it. My colleagues are hilarious, the work I do is the kind of work I've always wanted to do in London but couldn't, and the benefits are great. People are people everywhere you go so there aren’t any huge differences between working here and working in the UK, yet here are four things I have noticed:

You Get Paid More If You Have a Foreign Education

I was told this before I moved to Nigeria, and it’s true. It’s like, there’s a base rate companies will pay ‘ordinary’ Nigerian graduates, then you get 20% more if your degree is from abroad, 20% more if you have a Masters degree from abroad, 20% if you have an authentic foreign accent, 20% more if you’ve worked for many years abroad, 20% more if you know the same people your employer knows, and 20% more still if you talk, walk and behave as if you’re the best thing since sliced bread because of your foreign experience.

I personally found this all to be true, but I’m sure if I’d walked around the office as if I’d dined daily with the Queen back in England and insisted on a chauffeur and for everyone to call me Madam, I’d get paid more still. Humility doesn’t get you praise in Nigeria, it’s quite the opposite actually. The more you act as if you’re better than everyone and treat everyone as if they’re less than you, the more respect you get. People actually expect this of you, especially with your foreign background. I’m having to re-programme myself to think ‘like a big Madam.’

The More You Earn, The Less You Do

I was shocked to discover that graduates can earn just N20, 000 a month in companies in Abuja. It might sound a lot to those not used to the Naira, but it really isn’t.  And these graduates work hard, yet the higher you climb the ladder, the less work you actually do.

Naira: The highest bank note in Nigeria is N1,000, yet that's the cost of a single magazine

Taxes and Pensions

Every month, my quoted salary is less by a few thousand Naira, so naturally, I queried this discrepancy and was told the deductions were to cover taxes and my company pension. I accepted this, but later I remembered that I hadn’t actually signed any documents agreeing to having a pension, and as for taxes...hmmmm. Later, some of my colleagues confirmed my suspicions, that there wasn’t actually any ‘Pension Fund’ to speak of, and the collection, implementation and accountability of taxes in Nigeria were arbitrary at best and non-existent at worst. It seems as if some clever accountants are syphoning off a bit of everyone’s pay to line their pockets. Hmmmm.

High Level of Respect For Senior Staff

For someone used to the informal, laid-back nature of London offices, where you call your boss by their first name and they joined you in the pub for a drink, the Nigerian workplace is a lesson in hierarchical protocol. Here you call even your immediate superior ‘Sir’ and ‘Madam’ or ‘Ma’ and defer to them in everything, not speaking when they speak etc. I’m still getting used to and enjoying being called ‘Ma,’ but still find it odd and false to call anyone likewise, so I don’t. I show my respect for them in other (better) ways. Also, senior staff rarely socialise with lower level staff.The only person anyone called ‘Ma’am’ in England was the Queen, so the evident deference here is interesting. 

7 Reasons Why Nigerian Sites Have Bad Grammar

I visit a lot of Nigerian-produced news and entertainment sites, blogs and forums, and unfortunately a lot of the writing there leaves a lot to be desired. It's disappointing when a fascinating subject is ruined by bad grammar, the hyper-zealous use of a thesaurus or grand, convoluted sentences when simpler phrasing would do.

I wish I could 'red-pen' websites...

As an avid wordsmith who has studied the art of writing, sentences like Yes, i understand; 90's CD's and DVD's or Am in love irks me. (If you see nothing wrong with these sentences, then I envy the ease of your daily reading experience!)

And the habit of writers to use twelve words when three would do is also bothersome, so that a sentence like:

"Little five-year-old Ayo Azeez's mother had left his biological father after irreconcilable misunderstanding which led to their separation. The boy then became gravely ill and was immediately rushed to a nearby hospital but he gave up even before any medication could be administered on him."

Should be edited to:

"Five year old Ayo Azeez's mother had separated from his father before he fell ill. He was then rushed to a nearby hospital but died before receiving treatment."  

It sure does

Here are 7 reasons why I believe many Nigerians employ verbose, unprofessional English:

1. Sub-standard University Education

All Nigerians that can afford it go to university because education is a matter of pride and necessity. But the education many receive is often of low quality due to the lack of government funding and rampant teacher strikes caused by the non-payment of salaries, which turns a three-year degree into a six-year interrupted struggle. Inconsistent electricity also interrupts the use of computers and other technologies vital for a thorough education. Eventually poor students become poor teachers and the cycle is unbroken.

2. Journalism is an Unpopular Degree

Law, accounting and medical degrees are popular choices for Nigerians, but journalism is not. This is due to the little attention paid to literature and the lower pay journalists expect. The country's children are not encouraged to pursue a writing career and the majority of the country's journalists today began their careers in a completely different profession.

In my case, my father was a broadcast journalist and I read all the books on our bookshelf (my mother was once an avid reader though she no longer cares for books). My favourite was Enid Blyton's The Adventures of the Wishing Chair and I wanted to be a children's writer before deciding on journalism. I was neither encouraged nor discouraged to pursue it, and growing up I'd never heard of any Nigerian print journalists.

3. Poor Reading Culture

It is a sad fact that Nigerians don't value reading. Things Fall Apart by Nigerian Chinua Achebe is the most famous book written by an African, yet the ratio of Americans to Nigerians who have read it is probably 3:1. The more one reads, the better their grammar, and Nigerian writer Chimamanda Adichie set up The Farafina Trust to encourage reading and creative writing stating that::

"...If my novel had been first published in Nigeria...I would not have had an editor or publicity or marketing. The newspapers would have taken scant notice... [and] I would expect only family and friends to buy the novel because we are a country of people who do not regard and do not read literature. Many Nigerians say...we are too poor to read. Literature is, after all, a middle-class preserve and... reading has been put aside for the pursuit of basic survival."

Nigerians should encourage their children to read

4. Bribery

Institutional bribery means that the least intelligent but wealthy students often get the best grades above the intelligent but poorer students, so that those that get the writing jobs in the end are unqualified having only bought their grades.

5. Nepotism

To get a good job in Nigeria, who you know gets you further than ability or education. Many under-qualified people become 'Features Editor' or 'Reporter' because their aunt or brother-in-law is the Editor or Publisher. So someone with friends in high places, a degree in Forestry and a disregard for proper sentence structures can have their work published in the country's most popular publications.

6. English as a Second Language

English is the official language but all Nigerians have a different mother-tongue and many are only familiar with pidgin-English. This means that the level of acceptable spoken and written English in many arenas is lower than in western establishments, and the errors prevalent in using imperfect grammar is ignored or not even noted.

7. The 'More is Best' Thinking

Nigerians are often extroverts and this follows into their writing where the 'posher' the words sound, the better the writer is regarded. I remember reading a letter from my grandfather to my mother and being perplexed by the formal tone, along the lines of  "it is with the utmost trepidation that I hasten to..."

This contrasts with Western writing where simplicity and succinctness rule, and industry standards mean that British articles have a particular flow unlike Nigerian articles. Of course there are Nigerians trained in universal journalistic principles from the country's best universities, and quality publications like Thisday are thankfully well written, but Nigerians desecrating the English language abound all over the web.

Some of the websites I visit leave me shaking my head in disbelief or giggling at the unintentional humour of the more ambitious sentences.

6 Reasons Why Rap Music is Bad for Nigerians

I used to like rap back when it was poptastic and artists like Mase, JaRule and Nelly were making hits. But now (maybe because I'm older?) I think the popular forms of the genre is detrimental to Black people's achievement because it encourages a culture that:

1) Turns ignoramuses into millionaires that buy $50 million cars, huge necklaces worth more than houses and a full set of diamond teeth
2) Encourages middle-aged men to dress like teenagers who wear caps, hoodies, jeans and trainers to corporate events
3) Reduces beautiful women into willing sex-objects (video vixens) valued for nothing more than their fat behinds
4) Funds and fuels violence by making violent rappers rich
5) Glorifies and promotes promiscuity, greed, revenge, hate and other shameful vices
6) Turns would-be doctors and lawyers into education-less layabouts with delusions of grandeur who spit boastful, violence-ridden lyrics that get them nowhere, until they wake up one day aged 40 and discover that they have wasted their youth chasing pipe dreams of becoming the next Jay Z.

Yes, rap music has given Black people a voice, can be a force for good and a source of enlightenment and has provided an avenue for many to attain wealth and influence. But for every 50 Cent there are a thousand more who never make it and lead unproductive lives because they wasted their best years chasing a fruitless dream and end up bitter because of it.

I'm putting aside the entertainment value of rap music and looking into its societal effects.

Thank God Nigerian parents still demand that their kids to go to university and become accountants and engineers and that many young Nigerians chase professions. Although some born and bred in the West are lost to the Music Monster, a lot more excel in jobs that will actually feed their families long term.

It could be argued that the music genre itself cannot be held responsible for leading countless people astray. And the fact that many youths prefer to get rich through the relatively simplistic art of rhyming rather than the discipline of education and apprenticeship has more to do with our skewed culture than rap itself.

I don't know.

All I know is that I'll be a typical Nigerian mother who will discourage my child if they tell me they want to rap. I want to stop them from becoming a stereotype because the industry is over-subscribed with countless black boys and girls hoping for music superstardom. I'll tell them that they must earn a degree otherwise I will cut them out of my will, and if they continue to have a passion for music, I'll encourage them to learn a musical instrument which would actually earn them money in the future when their lyrical flow doesn't.

8 Reasons Why You Meet Few Hausa/Fulanis in the UK

I have met few Hausa people in all the time I've lived the UK, but I have many Yoruba and Igbo friends and have met hundreds of others.

I know we're all one; ever since the British decided to bring these three distinct peoples together under one nation called Nigeria, we have shared a destiny and a future. But the Hausa and Fulanis- two distinct groups united by Islam, inter-marriage and history- remain mysterious to many Nigerians abroad due to their relative invisibility. Below are some reasons why I think this is so.

(WARNING: These are wild generalisations. They are based on some facts but it is in NO WAY conclusive, there are lots of exceptions to every rule!)

1. Private People

Hausas are private, reserved people who mind their own business. They are often, in very Islamic states, not as exposed to Western influences as other groups which means that emigration to the UK or the US is not the 'great ideal' they've dreamed about as a result of consuming Hollywood movies or music, as it is to others. Because of their Muslim religion, Islamic countries like Dubai and Saudi Arabia are also more attractive.

2. Simplicity

Hausa people are known for their simplicity (rich Hausa men have been known to walk everywhere and wear the same clothes even though they can afford cars and expensive clothing) so the bright lights of Hollywood or the golden streets of London doesn't hold the same appeal. They are modest and unmaterialistic and don't have the need to obtain expensive things from abroad.

3. Laid-Back

Of course they enjoy the finer things in life, but both Hausa Christians and Muslims don't often go to the great lengths others do to secure a visa to the West. The rigmarole of waiting in line under the hot sun for the whole day outside the US Embassy, the thousands of Naira necessary to secure your tickets out and the paperwork and often dodgy means of acquiring visitor status to enter these countries is not something they pursue. It could be said they lack drive and ambition, which is untrue. A Hausa man's home is his castle and he's able to be content with the little he has as long as he provides for his family.

4. Less Education

Northerners are also less educated than their Southern counterparts. Indeed, many eschew Western-influenced education for traditional Islamic schooling, so going overseas to study and embark on a career is not open to them. They may also prefer travelling to Arab and Islamic countries because they see the West as Christian-influenced which puts them off coming here.

5. Docile Women

Hausa/Fulani women are even less likely to be university-educated than their men, and are sometimes married at an early age, thus their aspirations are stunted and their opportunities for exploring the world limited by their tradition and home lives.


6. Knowing No One Abroad

Another limiting factor to Northerners going abroad may be the fact that they don't know many of their kinsmen living in other countries. If you know people in Mongolia the thought of going there could appeal, otherwise you might choose to stay home instead. Yorubas and Igbos have large communities in many areas around the world so stepping off the plane they have the name of an 'Uncle' or a church to go to.

7. Wealth and Poverty

There are many wealthy Hausa/Fulani Alhajis who do travel abroad, send their children to study in Western universities and conduct business in different countries, but they don't always live amongst other Nigerians. There are also many poor Malams who cannot afford to travel even if they wanted to and learn to make do with the little they have.

8. You Have Met Them But Didn't Know...

Some Fulanis don't 'look' Nigerian. You may also know or have met Nigerians but didn't know they were Hausa/Fulani. So next time you meet an African with a Muslim name, you might be talking to a Hausa or Fulani person; a minority amongst Nigerians in the diaspora.