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. 

I'm Now a Fulani-British-Nigerian in Abuja!

Hello everyone, so sorry I’ve been away so long. I've been getting used to life and work in my new abode: Abuja, Nigeria. Yep, I’ve come back home!

I’ve been in two minds whether to continue this blog or not... but you know, here I am. So I guess I’m no longer a Fulani-Nigerian in the UK, but a Fulani-British-Nigerian in Nigeria (quite a mouthful) 

Abuja has been fascinating. They really spent our oil money well in this city: the major roads are wide, pristine and lined with neatly-trimmed hedges and massive corporate offices along the sides. Buildings like Transcorp Hilton is ostentatiously grand and inside is just as luxurious as you’d expect from the best hotels in New York or Dubai, and the prices of staying a night can run into the tens of thousands. I saw more over-head bridges, multi-lane highways and roundabouts in one ten minute journey in Abuja than I saw in the whole time I was in Accra.

Transcorp Hilton's massive building in Abuja

 Transcorp Hilton at night is beautiful (except for the rows of prostitutes that frequent the area targeting rich men!)

An example of the impressive road structures in Abuja

The fact that the FCT (Federal Capital Territory) as Abuja is called is only 20 years old, was hand-picked to be Nigeria’s new capital  instead of Lagos and planned in advance is evident. Poorer tribes were driven out of the area to make way for the shining city (although there are still poorer ghettos dotted around) and in the 20 years since its inception, the FCT has grown in population and in traffic too. The area near where I live has many buildings and roads still under construction, so that in another 20 years Abuja will be even more occupied and developed. But is that a good thing?

There are also many huge jeeps and other grand US-style motors on the road; which spells out the difference between Ghana and Nigeria: unashamed public displays of wealth. It’s not only that there’s much more money in Abuja than Accra thanks to oil and greed, but Nigerians also know how and where to spend it so that everyone can see.

 

An example of one of the grand houses in Maitama, an expensive area of Abuja

In the car park at a popular mall called Silverbird, I saw a group of Hausa teenage boys dressed like Hip Hop artists smoking and laughing, before walking casually to their big black monster of a vehicle (probably a Jaguar Range Rover, but I’m not a car enthusiast so I’m not sure), brand new and gleaming, before driving off. 

The type of car the Hausa teenagers were driving

Apart from that, as per my style, here’s the good, the bad and the ugly I’ve noted so far about Abuja:

Bad Driving & Car Accidents

This is the worst part of Abuja for me. I see the remains of a terrible accident every other day, including a crash between a bus and a car, the remains of a burnt-out car in the middle of a roundabout, and even a Keke Napep on its side, on fire on the side of the road. And it wasn’t as if it had just caught fire, but had been burning for a while. The unfortunate passengers had been pulled out and the vehicle left to burn. The fire service in Nigeria is chronically under-funded so rarely do they come out to put out fires, and ambulances are almost non-existent so victims of car accidents (both rich and poor) rely on the kindness of strangers to ferry them to the hospital.

A Keke Napep, a popular form of transport in Abuja

It’s no wonder that everyone professes to live by the grace of God in this country, cos when you can’t depend on Government, your money or the common sense of your fellow citizen, what do you have left but God?

I also saw a phone-video of a man involved in a car accident whose body had been severed in the middle, and only his spine was holding him together. He was bloody and his intestines were everywhere yet he was still alive, and people crowded around to stare, cry and shout (Oh my God O! Heh, Jesus! La Ila Ailallahu!) and film him on their phones as he weakly reached out to one of the transport police who held his hand before he died.

The outcry against such fatal car crashes rises almost every other week because of the number of avoidable deaths (a whole family of five lost their lives recently) bad roads and even worse driving. It’s like the majority of Nigerians just get behind the wheel of a car with no prior instruction and drive as they please; there’s very little courtesy or concern or consideration displayed. A road made for two lanes will routinely see five lanes of cars squeezing through, with some impatient drivers trying to pass through on the kerb, and motorists vehemently insult each other and overtake each other recklessly. It would be hilarious if it wasn’t so manic. I’ve vowed never to drive long distances in Nigeria; I’m too gentle a driver to make it out with my sanity intact.

Traditional Clothing

I love that the variety, colour and vibrancy of the traditional dress is fully embraced in Nigeria, both at private and public level. In a country that so values foreign influence, it’s refreshing that everyone from newsreaders, politicians, workers to market women and house-girls etc dress in traditional attire, from the Kaftans, Babanrigas and Hulas on men to the Ankara dresses, fitted maxi-skirts and head-ties on women; I’m in love with the styles and designs I’ve seen. 

My ‘ethnic' wardrobe is growing and I'm having fun experimenting with different ankara, lace and other materials; different tailors, designers and boutiques and various styles; fishtail, A line, one-shoulder and baby doll and even Ankara jackets, clutches and shoes. Not only are the dresses modest, flattering to the figure and a vibrant fashion statement, to me it’s an expression of national pride.

An architectural wonders: The Shiphouse, Abuja

Car Discrimination

Appearance is everything in Nigeria, and many believe that all that glitters is in fact gold. In most arenas, you are judged purely on how you look, how much you earn (or say you earn) and how well you go about flaunting it. So the bigger, newer and more expensive looking your car is, the more respect and patronage you get from everybody.

I've witnessed it first-hand: on one occasion we parked outside a public building to wait for someone in a beat-up Mazda, and the way the security personnel spoke to us and told us to “Move Joor!” was unfair, compared with the way the same men kissed the rich arses of the drivers of expensive cars. Conversely, on the occasions we passed through the security entrance leading to an estate in a Honda ‘End of Discussion’ (Great name for a car!) or our Range Rover, the way the security fawned over us saying ‘Oga’ this and ‘Madam’ that, it was hilarious, all because we drove a nicer car. 

And I’ve learnt that you get turned away from many expensive areas if you're in a ‘cheap-looking’ car. It’s not fair, the price of your car should not determine the respect you receive, but it’s the way it is in the FCT.

‘Runs’

The majority of Nigerians don’t rely just on their wages to live on, but have businesses on the side from which they fund their lifestyle. The average Nigerian’s ingenuity, ‘hustle’ and ability to make a business out of anything and collect from the generosity of others is impressive.

This is very different from the UK, where your salary is King and the culture and society doesn’t allow for people to create and sustain extra-curricular money-making schemes because demands like business taxes, licenses, permits etc often limits the flow of side enterprises. But in Nigeria, you could set up a newspaper or start selling jewellery tomorrow and all you need is the funding and customers and off you go.

And you will find some without jobs making a nice living, especially young women who make a career out of their 'runs,' which is courting (and sleeping with) rich men to fund their lavish lifestyles. I’ve even heard of men who look after their families from the money raised visiting one rich uncle, friend or cousin after another.

Another beautiful Abuja building: Central Bank of Nigeria (CBN) 

The Tiring Nature of Haggling

At first battering or ‘pricing’ items was fascinating and even fun, but after a while it got jarring. I got bored and angry with all the drama that goes with buying things in Nigeria: having to argue, pretend to be uninterested, use guile and tricks etc to pay for everything from a taxi to meat. I started restricting myself to supermarkets and shops where everything has a set price and you knew everyone spent the same amount on the same thing.

Respectable Men Peeing in Public

Yep: men peeing in broad daylight on the side of the road where everyone could see. And these were not drunk youths coming out of a pub late at night and peeing in the alley like it happens in the UK, but sober, well-dressed men who just need to pee. Granted there are very few public toilets around and those available are unhygienic, but it’s still appalling.

A residential estate in Abuja

The Culture of ‘Over-Greeting’

I think this might be a good thing, but because I’m not used to it, it’s awkward for me. When people meet each other in Nigeria, they greet, when they enter a room full of both people they know and don’t know, they greet everyone, and even when they pass someone on the street, they greet. And the greeting isn’t just a simple hello and goodbye either, but a long series of formal and informal exchanges that no one is in a hurry to end. The Hausas have their own (Ina kwana, lafiya; Ina gajiya, ba gajiya; yaya aiki, lafiya; sannu, toh sannu etc) and other tribes have even more elaborate greeting traditions involving prostrating full length on the ground and long, rambling questions and answers you must go through before the greeting is complete.

Coming from England where you say Hello to a stranger on the street and feel you’ve accomplished something great if they say hello back; where a smile or a nod of the head is enough of a greeting sometimes and where you don’t have to greet everyone in a room you enter or even greet someone because they are older, this culture of extended greetings is good, but a little... tiresome.

Death

Nigeria is deeply over-populated, so I often wonder whether the fact that the people I know here lose many people they know to car accidents, ill-health or violence is because nature and the universe is sub-consciously making space available. People don’t die in the UK like they do here. Or maybe the people I know in England don’t know so many people, so we don’t experience death so frequently. This is in contrast with Nigerians who – being sociable and fabulous-greeters – probably know three times the amount of people, and the more people you know, the more will die... Well, I don’t know.

‘Only in Nigeria’ Names

Old-school names that ceased to be in vogue in the UK centuries ago like Silas or Ethel, find their home in Nigeria. Shakespearean, Dickensian and Biblical-era names like Hamlet, Abraham, Claudius and Cyprian are found safe and sound here. Not only that, but Christian-inspired names like Faithfulness, Godswill, Believe, Goodheart, Favour and Miracle are widespread, as are Experience and Epiphany. I’m not kidding. In fact Experience and Epiphany where the names of politicians I saw talking on TV. I also saw men called Clever, Famous and Prosper, and a girl called Happiness. Oh, and I met a waiter called Genesis. 

But one name took the biscuit; a name I thought was only ever given to one man in history, a name that is above all names. A baby boy of two who was born on Christmas Day was called Jesus. And it’s not even pronounced ‘Heysus’ like the Spanish do it, but J-E-S-U-S. When the baby was introduced to me, I didn’t know whether to laugh or be stunned. The funny thing is that no one actually called the baby by this most unique of names; people said ‘Awww, baby is so cute’ or asked ‘where’s that cute baby boy?’ and even the baby’s mother called him by a pet name I can’t remember. It’s like everyone subconsciously knew that you can’t go around calling a baby Jesus. Imagine what the kids at school will say! 

Nigeria has been as fascinating, terrible, exciting, exhilarating, exasperating, annoying and hilarious as I’d imagined. And now with this fuel subsidy removal by President Goodluck Jonathan (Or Badluck as many  are now calling him) which raised the price of fuel from N65 per litre to N140 causing protests, strikes and doubled prices on almost everything, tensions are high and I feel like my country is on the verge of something major.

But that’s another post for another day. 

My Ghanaian Adventure: Part 2

So I'm still enjoying life in Ghana (see my first post: My Hausa Adventure in Ghana). And of course, being a curious 'outsider', I've made some interesting observations.

SHOPPING
There are four levels of shopping in Accra:
Street Vendor: Usually a middle-aged woman sitting by the road-side behind a boxed table selling 2 cedi to 10 cedi mobile recharge cards, items of clothing spread out on mats or food like meatpies, small bags of pure water, roasted meat. There's usually a large umbrella attached to the table to protect the vendor from the sun, and the cart and umbrella are usually emblazoned with advertising for a Mobile Phone Network company; either yellow for MTNor red for Airtel or Vodafone.

This is the cheapest way to shop and street vendors can be found along the side of most roads in Accra. The items for sale are cheap enough so haggling is not often necessary, but the quality and cleanliness of items is of a low standard.

One of the MTN Street Vendors

Markets: I visited Makola, a long, busy street consisting of tiny, one-storey, often ramshackle, wooden store fronts next to each other, selling everything from fresh tomatoes to combs. There are also women selling behind tables and men holding their wares as they walk, e.g. a man holding a handful of belts for sale on one hand and phonecards in his other hand who'll come up to you.

Here you haggle. We were awful at haggling and spent way more than we should have on common items, much to the amusement of our Ghanaian friends! The traders can 'spot' a foreigner and they double the price for you, expecting you to halve it if you're smart, then work your way back up until you reach an amicable settlement, e.g. Trader: 10 cedis Me: No, 5 cedis Trader: Nooo, OK, give me 8 cedis. Me: No, 6 (and on and on until you both agree)

Some street sellers selling pure water and plantain chips

Osu Are (Oxford Street): This is the more up-market high street shopping area I described in my previous post. Here the street stalls are larger, the goods better quality and the traders smarter. On sale are mostly touristy items (small carved statuettes, jewellery, African-print bags, African print dresses etc) and ready-to-eat foods from street vendors. There are also more up-market stores and boutiques selling (high-priced) dresses as well as smoothie bars, fast food restaurants, offices, banks and electrical stores.

Men selling their hand-held wares are also plentiful here. One man hand-makes threaded bracelets of your name and colour choice whilst you wait. I was impressed!

The handmade bracelt made by one man in five minutes sharp!

Accra Mall: This is the most expensive place for shopping, but it is also the most picturesque, with swanky stores, supermarkets, restaurants, eateries, juice bars and book stores. There's also an arcade and a cinema on the first floor. Here you can buy Birkenstocks for GHC300 or Kit Kat chocolate from the supermarket for GHC3.99. There are also more foreigners and children and you might even forget you're in Ghana altogether!

PROSTITUTES
On our way to pick a friend up from Accra's Kotoka airport one evening, we stopped by this nice hotel-bar place to pass the time. We walked up the stairs to the open-air bar area where you can look over the high balcony and see the skyline and enjoy the breeze. It was quite nice. Then we noticed a couple of provocatively-dressed Ghanaian ladies sitting with two white men at a table behind us.

"So, are you married?" We overheard one of the ladies asking the portly white Englishman. My English-Ghanaian friend and I looked at each other, then giggled. Then it dawned on us. "Oh my God, are they prostitutes?" My friend asked her Ghanaian boyfriend. "Yeah, this place is known for the 'working girls' that come here" he replied.

"Oh my God!" my friend and I exclaimed, wild-eyed. In England we'd never been in such close proximity with prostitutes before. "Why did you bring us here?!" My friend chastised her boyfriend, who begged her to keep her voice down. "People might thing we're prostitutes too!" We were not amused.

But soon, curiosity got the better of us and we stayed, drinking our drinks and pretending to talk but really eavesdropping on the table behind us, where the 'working girls' sat with their British 'dates' making small talk before they go and...complete their transactions.

A scene from inside the German speaking Taxi driver's car 

One of the many taxis in Accra

TAXI DRIVER
We didn't always have the use of a car so we relied a lot on taxis. The alternative was the buses (tro-tro), but they were small, hot, crammed and often ramshackle, so taxis were really the only way around (Motor bike transport isn't popular in Accra) It wasn't cheap though!

One of our taxi drivers was a small, gentle, elder Ghanaian man (I forgot his name) with a stutter. After guessing I wasn't Ghanaian and thinking I was 'European or African-American' I told him I was British but originally from Northern Nigeria. He then told me he'd lived in three Northern Nigerian states, Lagos, Germany for seven years and all around Ghana.

He spoke Yoruba, Igbo, English, Twi, Ga and German. I was pleasantly surprised. He said he'd once had a German couple in the back of his taxi, and as they never guessed that their lowly Ghanaian driver spoke their language, they talked about how peaceful Ghana was, but how very dirty the people were. At the end of the journey, the driver asked for his fare in German, much to the surprise of the couple! So they tipped him generously.

He also told me how he recently picked up a Nigerian doctor who had told him how he had returned to Lagos after 36 years in America, only to be attacked at gun point by five armed robbers in his house one night who stole everything. They also made him watch them rape his wife and ordered him to applaud their performance afterwards. The very next day, the man packed up his family and moved to Ghana, telling his children never to return to Nigeria. The man's wife later committed suicide.

I was appalled.

The driver said many Nigerians are coming over to Ghana because it is a better alternative, but some have brought armed robberies with them, as well as a smarter, more aggressive way of doing business. As a female, many of the people I meet feel free enough to tell me about their prejudices against Nigerians (although this driver had no hatred for us) but I think if I was a Nigerian man they would be less open.

WEATHER
Hot and humid. I haven't sweated this much since I was last in Africa. Tiny beads of perspiration form on my top lip, along the bridge of my nose and on my forehead. And the heat can weaken you. We only go out early in the morning or after 5pm when the sun isn't so hot. And I've grown at least two shades darker too.

Then there's the rain. When I first heard it, I thought someone was throwing rocks at our roof; it was so loud! It thumped at our windows and was quite fierce. Then the lightning would strike: short and sharp, and the thunder would roll; a long, strong, deep growl that was more menacing than anything I'd heard in the UK. But thankfully it doesn't rain for long, and the sunshine is back soon after.

In the evenings, mosquitoes come out to play, so I rub a nice-smelling cream repellent on my arms and legs. But invisible bugs still feasted well on my skin, leaving welts and small bumps everywhere. For two weeks I itched constantly. It has stopped now though, I think the bugs have moved onto fresher foreign skin.

One of Accra's side roads 

The beach by the side of the road

GHANAIAN TV
I think there are around 10 channels on non-cable TV, and shows I've enjoyed include Ghana's version of Who Wants to be a Millionaire called Who Wants to be Rich as producers couldn't afford to give out a million cedis (this was funny to me!) There's MTV Base Africa playing the latest music, and Channel 1 had some great South African soap/dramas, where the acting is impressive and I've become hooked! The Ghanaian version of University Challenge and Family Fortunes was also interesting.

I noticed that 90% of the news readers and programme presenters 'put on' an accent, whether British or American, which caused great amusement to my friend and I because it mangled their pronunciations and made them sound ridiculous sometimes. This is a problem across Africa, where people feel they have to speak with a foreign accent, and although fellow Africans who know no better may be impressed, actual British or American people (or those with genuine accents) are not fooled. Incidentally, the presenter of Who Wants to be Rich was one of very few presenters who retained a natural, educated-Ghanaian accent which endeared him to us and made him easier to understand.

We've also been watching Nigerian and Ghanaian movies (also a source of much amusement!) as well as Bollywood movies and Latin tele-novellas dubbed with robotic American voices.


Random Things I Also Noticed:

• Ghanaian girls in secondary schools are required to cut their hair really short as part of the uniform (which I think is a shame)
• The gutters on the sides of many roads are potential death traps! I almost fell into one that was missing its cover, and most were made with no covers
• Ghanaian chin-chin (they call it chips) is salty and long whilst Nigerian chin-chin is small and sweet. I prefer Nigerian chin-chin
• Mobile phone companies are a major part of Ghanaian life and business; they sponsor sports and music events, are behind some TV channels, provide traders with their tables (as I described above) and the majority of the shop signs in the area I'm staying were provided by a phone company, which gave a uniformity to their colours and appearance
• In the UK, people stare at you, then turn away immediately when you meet their gaze. In Ghana, people stare at you and continue staring at you even when you meet their gaze. They look until they're satisfied
• When you buy glass bottled drinks, they charge a deposit for the bottle and when you bring it back you get your money back. They can also refill your own bottles
• I've never felt fear or felt threatened on the streets of Ghana. My friend and I walked home in the dark at around 9pm one day and we never felt nervous
• Airtel's Blackberry messenger service is terrible! I should have bought an MTN sim-card

My Hausa Adventure in Ghana

I haven’t published a blog post for a while because I am currently in Accra, Ghana, getting used to being back on African soil, not having to wear coats and boots and dealing in Cedis and Pesewas, instead of Pounds and Pence.

There are more Hausa people in Ghana than I thought. The main languages here are Twi, Ga, Ewe and English, but a sizable minority speak Hausa, so much so that when calling the Airtel mobile network to register my new Ghana SIM-card for my phone, the automated message said “Press 1 for English, Press Two for Twi, Press Three for Hausa.”

The house I stayed in in Ghana

I’ve also met some Hausa people in my two weeks since arriving in Ghana. The first was a roast meat seller-man in Osu, Ghana’s Oxford Street. My friends and I were bargaining for a good price on the spicy delicacy (the NHS nurse in London where I got my ‘African holiday injections’ told me to stay away from street food, but it’s oh so delicious!) the meat-seller looked Hausa so I tried my luck and asked “Ka na jin Hausa?" (Do you understand Hausa?)”

He laughed and nodded. I wondered if he laughed because my sentence composition was a bit off. Anyway, my friends, thrilled that they may get a good price on the meats because I could bargain in the man’s language, encouraged me to haggle with him. So I asked for tasters, softer meats and a good price. “Wuni irin nama ne wanan?" (What kind of meat is this?)” I asked. “Shanu (Cow)” he replied. He then said something along the lines of “It’s tough meat, but here are some soft pieces for you”, but he said it so quickly that I had to ask him to repeat it twice. I’ll give myself 5 out of 10 for that Hausa transaction.

Then we continued walking along Osu until a stall selling beautiful African print dresses caught my eye. The stall-owner was also Hausa and he was sweet as he patiently responded to my Hausa-English-Pidgin hybrid (“A-a, zan baka goma-sha-biyu mana, ko? That’s fair now, haba. Wanan riga ya yi kyau, ama ya yi tsada!") He ended up giving me a good price for a beautiful blue African-print strapless dress.

It felt good: here I was, speaking my Mother-tongue in the Motherland! I brimmed with pride.

The lady that did my hair (Back-length ‘pick and drop’ style for those that know) was also Hausa. She’d started plaiting when she received a call and had a brief Hausa conversation. So I told her that I understood and she told me she was originally from a Hausa-speaking tribe in Burkina Faso but her family had settled in Ghana. She also spoke Twi, Ga and English. I quickly realised that most Ghanaians spoke at least two Ghanaian languages as well as English.

Unlike with the meat-seller, I struggled a little to understand her accent but we still had a short conversation before reverting back to English. I’ll give myself 7 out of 10 for that exchange.

The next Hausa person I met was a Suya-Seller near our house (Suya is another type of meat delicacy seasoned with tasty spices). The man’s ‘office’ consisted of him standing in front of a rudimentary barbecue-cum-work-top with a few red onions, spices in a bag, knives, skewers, the grill and a notebook from which he tore out a page to wrap the suya-meat in for customers. We went up to him and I asked again “Ka na jin Hausa?” This time this man, who was older and stricter than the other meat-seller, responded “A-a, ni Bahaushe ne! (I don’t just speak it, I am a Hausa man.)” Implying that anyone can speak Hausa, but he in fact was an original Hausa man.

This transaction was less fun, as he was less patient with me. I got the impression he saw me as a silly British girl trying to practice Hausa for fun when he was trying to earn a living. The suya meat was delicious though.

Ghana has been fun so far, even though my first experience of the country was a bad one: getting off the plane, we had to walk down stairs and I was lugging my heavy hand-luggage with me, and despite there being around five stewards, security men etc around, they all watched as I hauled the suitcase down the stairs by myself, until with just three steps to go, one of the younger men helped me carry it down. I was not impressed. In the UK the men would surely have helped.

An elder Ghanaian woman who had seen me struggling said I should have asked for help. “But I thought they would offer” I sulked. “There are no gentlemen like that in Africa anymore o!” She said, and laughed.

But since then Ghana has redeemed itself. The people are very friendly and easy-going, the weather is hot but not too harsh and although Accra is not as swanky or architecturally-developed as Abuja, its peaceful, humble nature won me over.

I enjoyed the open-air gardens: sitting sipping Malta or Alvaro soft drinks in the cool night breeze as thumping (often Nigerian) High/Hip Life music blasted from the speakers and one or two tipsy Ghanaians Makosaed in the dark; the beach-front hotels and sandy/rocky beaches (sometimes the sea was just yards from traffic) the markets and the shopping malls, where we saw lights and cameras inside one particular jewellery store as they filmed a scene for a Ghanaian movie, which saw the young actress beaming as she swept her fabulous weave away from her neck to allow her Romeo to fasten an expensive- looking necklace to it.

One of the beaches we visited

I’m also enjoying the one Cedi food stuffs from the street sellers. I've stayed away from the small Pure Water bags and only drink from sealed plastic bottles, but so far I’ve bought chin-chin, roasted pork, meat and fish pies, Kelewele (seasoned plantains with groundnuts) and even sweet green apples from a traffic-hawker who cantered to keep up with our slowly-moving car in rush hour as he shoved the fruits wrapped in cling-film through our car window.

But don’t tell the NHS nurse!

My Life as the Only Northerner Amongst Southerners

Because I'm a Christian and Fulanis are Muslims, and because my family never lived amongst other Northerners in the UK, I have grown up surrounded by Yorubas and Igbos. So at the Nigerian event I go to I am the only Northerner present. I am sometimes the first Fulani person many people have ever met.

Being amongst your countrymen yet feeling out of place for being the only one of your ethnicity is an interesting predicament.

Feeling Like an Outsider
No one ever assumes I'm Nigerian, so I'm always self-conscious at a Nigerian gathering. People say I look Jamaican, West Indian, Sierra Leonean, Ethiopian, Cameroonian, Somalian...I've heard it all, except Nigerian. When people question your origin all the time and are surprised when you tell them where you're from, you start to view yourself differently.

Sometimes I feel like declaring my origin the minute I step into a Nigerian event to avoid confusion, or tattoo 'Yes, I am Nigerian too' on my forehead. I often feel like an impostor at these gatherings, and I imagine that some people are thinking "What's that Jamaican girl doing here?"

In a couple of churches I've been to (and I've been to a lot both as a worshipper and a Christian media journalist) the Pastor would tell a Yoruba joke or proverb at the pulpit that everyone laughs or nods at except me; or the choir would sing a popular Yoruba song everyone else would sing along to except me. I've even been to a Nigerian comedy show where comedians told their jokes in pidgin and Yoruba.


The 'Are You Nigerian?' Question
I've been asked the question 'Are you Nigerian?' at least once a week since forever, and at least three Nigerian acquaintances I've known were unaware that I was one of them for many years. They assumed that I was West Indian.

The funny thing is that when people want to decipher my origins by asking my name, hearing my English name doesn't help. They then ask for my surname (because most Nigerians despite an English first name usually have a 'native' surname) and my equally English surname doesn't help either.

Some people who asked me these questions leave it there and I thus retain my ethnic ambiguity in their eyes. The majority just ask outright "Are you Nigerian?"

People Treat Me Differently

In certain situations, people would speak Yoruba or pidgin to everyone else in the group I'm with, then turn to me to translate what they've just said or joke that I probably don't understand (I understand Pidgin and a bit of Yoruba).

Or people are more gentle or nicer to me than they would be to a fellow Nigerian. For instance when I go up to be served food at the buffet table at a wedding reception, some of the ladies serving would describe the details of the yam porridge (asaro) or beans (ewa agoyin) they're serving me, assuming I'm new to these foods (I'm not). Or a Nigerian Auntie we don't know would chastise my Nigerian friend for doing something, but won't chastise me for doing the same thing because she doesn't feel familiar enough with me.

When people don't think I'm 'one of them' they are nicer in a detached, polite way, but this just strengthens the invisible barrier between us. And some only become 'real' with me when they find out I'm Nigerian too.

Changing Accents

A few people will be verbally-jousting in pidgin, but when I join in the conversation they respond in a British accent. Or someone would talk to my friend in a relaxed Nigerian-accent, but talk to me in a forced British accent.

Or my conversation with someone would begin with them 'forming' the Queen's English to me, but after I tell them I'm Nigerian too thinking that this should get them to relax, they continue to form because they're not quite at home with me being Nigerian.

The Fulani Ambassador 

People often ask me to "say something in Hausa" or they say the Hausa words they know and ask for a translation or a response from me. Some ask me if various stereotypes they've heard about Fulanis are true, and when any Hausa-related issue occurs, they want my thoughts on it.

A couple of Southern Aunties who grew up in the North were delighted when they found out I spoke Hausa, and were happy to speak it again with me. It's always lovely when this happens, and the aunties then make sure to always speak to me in Hausa whenever we meet.

Much to my chagrin though, a few people who have a bit of exposure to Fulanis want to show they know a lot about my people and challenge me on some aspect of my culture. For example:

Them: Isn't the Fulani traditional dress a type of lacey material?

Me: No it's a white, cottony top and wrapper combo with pastel colours at the front.

Them: Are you sure? I swear it's a kind of lacey, covered top that kinda flares at the sleeves...

Me: Nope

Them: I don't think so. Are you really sure?

'Nigerian' means Yoruba

I go to events marked as Nigerian - like the Nigerian carnival in London or a Nollywood film premiere, but usually these events are attended by 85% Yoruba, 10% Igbo and 5% other Southerners. There's even a Yoruba festival in the UK. But I've never heard of an event that celebrates Fulani or Northern culture or ever been to a large Hausa or Fulani gathering that involved more than two families. In my UK experience, being Nigerian means being the only Northerner in a room full of Yorubas.

I enjoy being with my people. There's an easiness and familiarity I appreciate when I'm at such events, and a jovial humour and sense of fun and craziness you wouldn't get anywhere. There's also no wedding like a Nigerian wedding (see my Nigerian Wedding vs British Weddings post)

Yet sometimes I feel acutely aware of my difference: I often don't act, know, understand or feel like everyone else in these places, and for all our kinship I might as well be a white person due to their perception of me and my perception of myself.

Seeing Two Sides
For those that carry clues to their origins in their name, appearance or personality, people have already made up their mind about you before they meet you or the minute they meet you. But my apparent ambiguity means I'm able to note how people respond to me before and after they find out where I'm from.

The majority of White People are indifferent when they find out I'm Nigerian. In fact, many don't even ask unless they have a legitimate reason to. Some express mild surprise because they say I didn't act the way they expected Nigerians to act, and a few have 'the look' of negative pre-judgement quickly pass over their eyes but even then, they successfully continue to act normal.

Nigerians are generally guarded or civil with me to begin with, then when they find out, become friendlier and more comfortable around me. They are also very surprised and ask lost of questions; I've had to recount which State in Nigeria my parents come from, the number of years I've lived in the UK and whether I speak Hausa so many times! 

Northerners embrace me and tell me they suspected it when they find out, but on the whole they have no idea I'm Fulani too due to my non-Muslimness.

Other Africans are surprised because they expected me to be a certain way. Some Jamaicans are so sure I'm one of them that they speak Patois to me and feel very comfortable around me, and when they find out I'm Nigerian they are disappointed. 

Life as 'the only Fulani in the village' is interesting to say the least!

Is a Hausa Film Industry (Kannywood) Necessary?

About 20 years ago, Hausa producers developed a film industry called Kannywood (named after Kano state where many of the movies are filmed) catering to a Hausa-speaking audience, despite the fact that Nigeria already has an established and popular film industry called Nollywood.

 

 Kannywood stars from top to bottom: Maryam Booth, Ali Nuhu, Jamila Umar, Ibrahim Maishunku

Many wonder why Kannywood is necessary. Doesn't Nollywood represent us all? Well, yes and no.

Firstly, the majority of Nollywood's film-makers and film-stars are from Southern Nigeria, so much of its storylines and themes are centred around the unique experiences of Igbos and Yorubas. But there is no common Nigerian culture, only dominant ones.

Secondly Nollywood is mostly Christian and westernised, whilst Northern Nigerians are mostly Muslim and Middle-Easternised. This means that Hausas often cannot identify with much of the motivations, interactions and morality in the films.

Kannywood movies are also more conservative in style, (modest dressing, almost no male and female touching) concentrate on Hausa-Islamic culture (e.g. polygamous marriages, the Qu'ran) and music and dance interludes are used as a storytelling device similar to Bollywood films. However, both industries share similarities in that marriage and familial relationships dominate plot lines and popular conventions like village life, religion, absence of child characters and respect for elders are integral.

Kannywood film with English subtitles: Uwar Miji
Starring Ali Nuhu, Hajara Usman and Zainab Yunusa Odariko
A domineering mother does everything she can to get rid of her son's virtuous wife

Kannywood is an expression of a Hausa-Fulani sub-culture within the Nigerian national culture, in the same way that the African-American TV channel BET exists alongside mainstream channels and the Black British MOBO awards exists despite the Brit Awards.

Criticisms of Kannywood for being tribalist are disingenuous because we are all aware of our cultural differences. 

Nigeria was a region populated by hundreds of tribal groups and leadership systems, where distinct kingdoms like the Benin, Oyo, Nupe and Sokoto empires lived independently from, and sometimes were at war with each other.

Abubakar Tafawa Balewa, Nigeria's first Prime Minister said in 1948:

"Since 1914 the British Government has been trying to make Nigeria into one country, but the Nigerian people themselves are historically different in their backgrounds, in their religious beliefs and customs...Nigerian unity is only a British invention."

Eminent Politician Obafemi Awolowo said in 1947:

"Nigeria is not a nation. It is a mere geographical expression. There are no 'Nigerians' in the same sense as there are 'English', 'Welsh' or 'French'. The word 'Nigerian' is merely a distinctive appellation to distinguish those who live within the boundaries of Nigeria and those who do not."

If Africa hadn't been colonised by Europeans, there probably would be over 2,000 countries in the continent due to the diversity of its peoples and their desire for autonomy; and the area called Nigeria would be made up of at least eight countries. In contrast to Western Europe which has 18 countries speaking around 18 languages, Nigeria alone houses 250 languages. 

Kannywood film with English subtitles: Alawiyya
Starring Aminu Shariff and Maryam Booth
A girl is raped and becomes pregnant and a kind stranger pretends he's her husband to avoid her parents anger

Although Nollywood and Kannywood both cater to Nigerians, Nollywood has a higher profile, generates more revenue and is increasingly collaborating with Hollywood and been viewed by an international audience.

But the two industries were never in competition with each other and I think Kannywood is content with simply entertaining its Northern audiences in ways they can appreciate.

*Quotes taken from 'The State of Africa: A History of Fifty Years of Independence' by Martin Meredith

Helpful Hausa Words and Translations

Most Nigerians are familiar with some Hausa words. But have you ever wanted to talk to Hausa people or toast a pretty Hausa girl but didn't know how? Well have no fear, your friendly Hausa-speaking Nigerian is here to help.

Below is a list of words and phrases you can use to communicate with (stereo) typical Hausa people. Note the extensive use of a as described in Why I Love the Hausa Language. The pronounciations can be tricky though and a word can have two meanings depending on the stress of a syllable, so good luck!

Talking to a Hausa/Fulani girl
Kin yi kyau walahi! .... You are very pretty!
Me sunan ki? ............. What is your name?
Ina son ki ............. I love you
Baban ki barawo ne, dan ya sata               Your father is a thief cos he stole the stars
wuta daga sama ya sa a idon ki! .............  from the sky and put them in your eyes!
Za ki aure ni? .............. Will you marry me?
Kina son ki je Dubai da ni? ...........  Do you want to come to Dubai with me?
Baban ki yana gida? .................   Is your father at home?               

Fulani girl in traditional Fulani costume

Talking to a Hausa Gateman
You
Menene? .............What is it?
Ka gama? ............. Have you finished?  
Ka tafi ............. You can go (male, replace ka with ki if female)
Ka dawo gobe .............. Come back tomorrow
Ina zuwa ............ I'm coming
Bude gate.............. Open the gate
Kule gate............... Lock the gate


Him
Bani kudi na ............ Give me my money
Na gama ............I've finished
Zan tafi ............ I'm going
Ban gan moton ka ba............ I didn't see your car
              
Talking to Almajiris
Ka na iya karatu? .............. Can you read?
Ka na jin yunwa? ...............  Are you hungry?
Ina maman da baban ka? .......... Where is your mum and dad?
Ina gidan ka? ................ Where is your house?
Tafi chan! ................ Go away!
Ka barni! ................. Leave me alone!
Ba ni da kudi ............. I don't have any money
Ka je makaranta ................. Go to school
Boko ba haram ba! .............. Western education is not a sin!

Other helpful words:

Greetings
Yayade ............ Hello/How are you
Answer: Lafiya ............ I'm fine

Ina Kwana ........... Good morning
Answer: Lafiya ......... Fine

Sai wata rana .......... See you later
Sai gobe .......... See you tomorrow

Speaking
Bin sani ba .......... I don't know
Ba Hausa ...........  I don't speak Hausa
Ba Turanchi ........ I don't speak English

At the Shop/Store

Nawa ne? .................... How much is it?

Ina son in siya ..............  I want to buy

Kudi ................ Money

Wanchan ................. That one

Ya yi tsada ................ It's expensive

Nagode .................. Thank You

Bani... .................. Give me....

Ai (as in hay) ..................  Yes

A-a (as in rapper) ...........  No (Listen to this)

Ba kudi ............... I don't have money     

Numbers

Daya (One)                                     

Biyu (Two)

Uku (Three)

Hudu (Four)

Biyar (Five)

Shida (Six)

Bakwai (Seven)

Takwas (Eight)

Tara (Nine)

Goma (Ten)

Goma-sha-daya (Eleven: ten and one; and so on)

General  Words and Phrases

Gobe ............ Tomorrow

Yau (as in Go) ............ Today

Jiya ................ Yesterday

Da Safe ................. In the morning

Da Rana ............... In the afternoon

Da Yama ............. In the evening

Da Dare ............. In the night

Zo .......... Come

Tafi ......... Go

Zauna ............Sit down

In sha' Allah ............ By God's Grace

Yaro/ Yarinya .............. Boy/ Girl

Mata/ Mutum ................ Woman/ Man

Takalmi ................ Shoes

Riga .............. Dress

Hula ............. Cap          

Eating 

Abinchi ....... Food

Ruwa ........ Water

Shinkafa ........ Rice

Wake .......... Beans

Miya ........ Soup

Doya ......... Yam       

The Body

Kai ......... Head

Gashi ........ Hair

Ido ........ Eye

Hanchi ....... Nose

Baki ........ Mouth

Hanu ......... Hand

Chiki ......... Stomach (also means 'inside' depending on stress on last syllable)

Baya ......... Back

Kafa ......... Leg

Duwawu .......... Bottom

If you want to learn how to speak Hausa click here

Debenhams' Hausa Sign Annoys Nigerians

People were surprised that major department store Debenhams in London decided to appeal to Nigerian customers by using the Hausa language in their signage last month, because they felt that Hausa was the least popular language spoken by Nigerians in the UK.

Debenhams' Oxford Street store puts up signage featuring the Hausa language at the bottom 

The signs featured the words "Na gode don sayayyarka a Debenhams" which means "Thank you for shopping at Debenhams" in Hausa, with the words also in Arabic and Mandarin. Debenhams said it selected the languages based on the highest number of overseas shoppers who claimed their tax back within the store.

One poster commenting on the topic on the Nairaland forum said:

"I think the shop owners may just be misinformed. Igbo or Yoruba would have been better. I have met very few Hausas in the UK. . . very few."

But I think Debenhams and other major stores like Harrods and Selfridges are right to court Hausa customers.

Hausas may be few in number, but the majority of those in the UK are wealthy and influential and spend lots of money in London. On the other hand, Nigerians from other tribes in the UK are largely working class and often shop in the inner-city areas. The ratio of rich Hausas to average Nigerians may be as low as 1:8, but in terms of spending power, major retailers respect them more.

Also, Hausa/Fulani shoppers are concentrated in the Oxford Street/ Edgware Road area because of the large Muslim and Arab community there, so whilst other tribes spread their wealth across the UK, Hausas are repeat, respected and respectable customers in the same large stores around Oxford Street.

A funny cartoon comparing Igbo, Yoruba and Hausa/Fulani shoppers

Because of the common sight of poor Hausa children begging on the streets of Nigeria and the 'Maiguards' (gatekeepers) of many Nigerian homes been poorly-paid Hausa men, many think that rich Northerners are too few to matter to British retailers.

But professional, educated Hausa/Fulanis in the UK (see my post 8 Reasons Why You Meet Few Hausa People in the UK) are harder to spot because they are not usually found in Nigerian-dominated areas in London as many live outside London. Also, many Hausa/Fulani men and women look 'different' because of their Islamic attire. 

People underestimate Hausa/Fulanis. They imagine we're poor, uneducated and uninterested in the finer things in life. This is true to some extent, but rich Alhajis and their families travel abroad to shop just as much as other tribes, having made their money in politics and business like other Nigerians.

Hausa is also the second most widely spoken language in Africa after Swahili, with approximately 43 million speakers across West Africa including Ghana, Sudan, Togo, Burkina Faso, Benin, Cameroon and Niger. So though Yorubas are dominant in the Nigerian diaspora, there are only 20 million speakers worldwide, the majority of whom are Nigerians with some speakers in Togo and Benin.

I applaud Debenhams for featuring Hausa in its signage, not only because of the language's popularity across Africa but also because this helps to show other Nigerians that Hausa/Fulanis have an important presence outside of Nigeria.

5 Annoying Stereotypes People Believe About Africa

I was watching TV recently and a programme called Prince William's Africa came on. Now programmes about westerners going to Africa inevitably focuses on huts, tribal wear and bare-footed urchins, all of which makes me cringe. But following the Prince's beautiful wedding and my increased admiration for him, I thought I would give it a chance. Alas, the stereotypes about my continent that is deeply embedded in the Western psyche were prominent.

Here are 5 popular assumptions about Africa, plus the reality:

1. DRUM BEATS
Any show about Africa always but always opens with 'appropriate African music' which is: fast drumming accompanied by lone, mournful wailing or aggressive chants by deep-voiced men.

Reality: Modern Africans listen to African-flavoured Hip Hop, RnB and Afropop by homegrown artists performing in English/pidgin/local languages. Drums do play a major role and traditional African Highlife-style music is popular, but most of the jungle-drumming, Lion Sleeps Tonight 'African sound' you hear is only venerated by Westerners.

Modern African music: If You Ask Me by Omawumi (Pidgin)

2. HUTS
Prince William's Africa took some British youths to Botswana for the first time, and the voice-over stated that they were to "live as Africans: in a simple hut with no hot water, no electricity and a diet of pap porridge." I almost kicked my TV in anger.

Reality: I've visited Nigeria and I NEVER saw a thatched roof, mud-walled hut. Basic, ramshackle structures yes, but even when I visited my grandparents' village I saw two-storey houses and paved roads. I have been to a house with one of those 'squat over a hole' toilets, but the majority of homes in towns and cities are built with bricks and have (sporadic) electricity and water out of taps thank you very much.

Lagos: Look, no Huts!

Lagos Airport: But Western journalists want the 'real' Africa

I'm not saying huts don't exist, I'm saying 60% of Africans live nowhere near one. The funny thing is that airports are situated in the cities so the first thing Western journalists see when they arrive is the bustling traffic and office buildings common to every city, but they don't start filming until they've driven six hours into the most remote village out in the middle of nowhere and call that Africa. Then they return to their comfortable hotel rooms in the city to prepare their reports.

3. WILD ANIMALS
The prevalence of nature documentaries filmed in Africa means that wild animals are so intertwined with notions of the continent that some think lions, tigers and rhinos are a common sight for Africans.

Reality: I saw lizards, cattle, emaciated dogs and one snake, but no safari animals. I know these are mostly found in South Africa or Kenya, but contrary to popular opinion the majority of Africans don't live side by side with giraffes, and only a small population of poor tribes living away from their country's cities hunt game for food.

4. AFRICA AS A COUNTRY
The former US vice-presidential candidate Sarah Palin famously referred to Africa as a country, and when many visit Ghana for example they say they've been to 'Africa,' lumping 54 unrelated countries into one indistinct entity.

Reality: The African continent is made up of 54 countries with over 1 billion people and 2,000 languages with almost as many cultures. Each African country has a particular personality and differentiating one from another helps to promote this fact.

5. LOIN CLOTHS
There's the over-used convention when film crews visit Africa of filming a row of scantily clad women in grass rara-skirts and beaded ankle jewellery, and spear-wielding, loin-clothed men with feather-headpieces singing and hop-dancing to welcome visiting western dignitaries who look on in benevolent appreciation.

Reality: I watched the DVD extras for the well-known movie The Gods Must Be Crazy (1981) which revealed that the loin-clothed African Bushmen running around the Kalahari dessert featured in the film were wearing costumes the director provided, as they usually dressed in trousers and T-shirts. Most of the 'authentic Africans' presented as a spectacle for tourists dress that way to make money. Whilst this display of culture is interesting, it does not reflect the daily attire of rich and poor Africans who wear 'western' clothing or fully-covered ethnic designs similar to those featured on my British Weddings vs Nigerian Weddings post.

Constantly featuring images of Masai warriors and Zulu dancers and saying 'This is Africa' is like focusing on Burberry & gold-jewellery-wearing 'Chavs' or handkerchief-waving Morris Dancers and saying 'This is Britain.' These are distinct sub-groups and traditional 'actors' that do not represent the whole population.

A rarity on western TV: Well-dressed and well-fed African children