Showing posts with label History. Show all posts
Showing posts with label History. Show all posts

Thursday, 3 November 2011

Fernando Ortiz and Nigeria


Fernando Ortiz was a Cuban intellectual who began writing about black urban culture in 1906. However, it was in 1940 that his seminal work, Cuban Counterpoint: Tobacco and Sugar was published. In this work, Ortiz coins the term transculturation, a process that occurs when cultures collide. None remain the same. Instead, they all rub off on each other and produce a hybrid that incorporates aspects of all participants. However, before this hybrid can be produced, all the cultures involved must undergo what Ortiz calls a deculturation. In this process, which can happen under extremely harsh conditions, distinct identities will be lost as the cultures are ground into each other.

Ortiz speaks of the transculturation of the African slaves transported to Cuba in the nineteenth century.

'The Negroes brought with their bodies their souls, but not their institutions nor their implements. They were of different regions, races, languages, cultures, classes, ages, sexes thrown promiscuously into the slave ships and socially equalized by the same system of slavery.'

Under the slave whip, they would lose their Wolof, Hausa and Mandinga distinctness and become African. Their descendants would not see themselves as belonging to one tribe but to all. Years after slavery was abolished in Cuba, the poet Nicolas Guillen would write in his Son Number 6,

I'm Yoruba,
singing,
weeping,
and when I'm not Yoruba,
I'm Congo, Mandingo, Carabali.

The first time we read this poem in my seminar group, I said to the class, "This man is very confused. He does not know where he is from." My teacher replied something along the lines of, "It's not that he doesn't know where he's from. It's that he's from all of them."

Nigeria has been a country since 1914 when Lord Lugard united the Northern and Southern Protectorate to simply administrative work. Igbo, Yoruba, Hausa, Efik, Ibibio, we have been thrown together, cheek by jowl for almost a century and still, we continue to cling to our separate identities. We refuse to let the inevitable process of transculturation take its course. I say inevitable because we can not live together without rubbing off on each other. We cannot rub off on each other without changing. We can choose to accept the change or we can fight it and call the transcultured hybrid a degenerate creature, hearkenening back to the days of 'racial purity. We can either and accept our multitribal reality or we can fight the integration of our cultures every step of the way. The Rwandans fought transculturation. Thousands of lives later, they have abandoned all forms of ethnic identification and abolished the terms Hutu and Tutsi from public discourse. Surely we don't have to wait until such drastic measures become necessary.Why not be wise like Guillen and decide,

I'm Igbo,
singing,
weeping,
and when I'm not Igbo,
I'm Yoruba, Hausa, Kanuri
Efik, Ibibio, Calabari, Ijaw,
I am Nigerian.

The historian Nancy Morejón wrote in an article,

"The history of the African continent has been plagued by thousands of tribal conflicts. Only in America [both North and South America] could Africa become a unity, due to the diaspora its descendants interwove in search of their liberation."

Why must we Efiks, Ijaws and Hausa's wait until we are in the diaspora before we know we are Nigerian? Why must we wait until we have fled a country ruined by tribal politics before we realise that being Nigerian is the most valuable of all identities.

There is no doubt that as transculturaion occurs, we will all lose a little of our 'Igboness' and 'Hausaness' and 'Efikness' and 'Kanuriness' but in doing so, we will gain our Nigerianess. Jesus said to his disciples in Matthew 10:39: If you cling to your life, you will lose it; but if you give up your life for me, you will find it. There is a corollary for nation building in Africa. If you cling to your tribe, you will lose your nation but if you give up your tribe, you will gain a nation of many tribes.

Sunday, 1 August 2010

On The Way


I've never met a person who doesn't like Yeshua. Love your neighbour as yourself, do onto others as you'd like to be done to, what's not to like? Yet, the people who claim to follow His creeds are some of the least liked on earth. Tomas de Torquemada, Spanish Inquisition Mastermind and murderer of thousands of Spanish Jews, claimed to be a follower of Yeshua; settlers who slaughtered millions of indigenous peoples claimed to follow Yeshua, and in more recent times the Congolese and Nigerian witch hunt pastors who accuse innocent children, also claim to be disciples of Yeshua.

Isaiah 61 is one of my favourite verses in the Bible because it says in very poetic language what Yeshua came to do. I'll just put the first verse here.

Isaiah 61:1 (KJV)
1 The Spirit of the Lord GOD is upon me; because the LORD hath anointed me to preach good tidings unto the meek; he hath sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to them that are bound;

Christian means little Christ, little Isaiah 61 verse 1s. When it was coined in Antioch the word was used pejoratively but the early Christians reclaimed it and reversed its connotations. When people of our generation hear the word Christian, I wonder how many of them think positive things. You can blame the media, you can blame the politicians but as Yeshua was wont to say, remove the log in your eye first abi.

God will help us.


Thursday, 29 July 2010

My Cousin N


My cousin N is a doctor and a mother and a wife and an Msc and my cousin as I have already mentioned. When I grew up with N, she was only a medical student and my cousin, the other titles were still far in the future.

I remember the day N came. According to her I threw all the clothes out of her box, according to me I helped fold her clothes and put them neatly in a wardrobe. That's the thing about History. It's open to debate.

One thing that was undebatable was that N was an egg when she arrived. She was a yellow that turned an easy red whenever she smiled, whenever she cried, whenever she stayed in the kitchen for too long. Her voice was soft, her hands were soft and she was the only girl in her family.

If you had asked me to write a list of strong people when I was younger, I don't think my cousin N would have made it. Strength was not the yolk colour that is so prized in Nigeria, strength had a more booming voice and strength, never, ever cried.

Now N runs a house, has pushed out a kid, is jointly raising him, and somehow, she's still found time to move to England from Nigeria, get over the shock, get a Masters, get a job, maintain her much prized complexion and above all maintain a strong relationship with God.

N still turns red easily and she still has soft hands but I don't think she's an egg anymore... most of the time :)
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