Out of Africa

This summer, I had the immense honor of meeting Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie (who’s article for the Guardian is featured in my last post).  She talked a lot about her journey toward writing and becoming a writer: from writing about people with blonde hair and blue eyes playing in the snow and eating mangos to writing about about Nigerians playing in the sand and eating mangoes. All-in-all, it was a great hour+ spent.

When I first read her book, “Purple Hibiscus,” I fell in love. Here was a story about Nigeria and Nigerians that was cliche, that didn’t proliferate the horrible Western ideals of Africans. It was modern, unlike the books written by Chinua Achebe and Wole Soyinka (both who I also admire) which are rooted more in historical Nigeria. Her other books, “Half of a Yellow Sun,” and the most recent, “The Thing Around Your Neck,” are equally as great.

In the clip below (which is from one of the TED talks), Adichie repeats a lot of the things she mentioned in the talk when I heard her speak. Her point is this: without a variety of stories, with only a single type of story, the world is deprived of the truth. The single story of Africa must be changed — it’s stuck in Africans as poor, backwards; Africa as a place of negatives. Newer African authors, like Chimamanda Adichie, are becoming more prominent in the Western world and are changing this single story.

And I’m thankful for that.

The clip is engaging, funny, and informative. But most especially, for me as an aspiring writing, it’s eye-opening.

It’s about 19 mins long, so if you don’t have time to listen to it all, here’s some “soundbites”:

“Show a people as one thing, as only one thing, over and over again, and that is what they become. … Power is the ability not just to tell the story of another person, but to make it the definitive story of that person. … Start the story with the failure of the African states and not with the colonial creation of the African states, and you have an entirely different story. … The single story creates stereotypes, and the problem with stereotypes is not that they are untrue, but that they are incomplete. They make one story the only story.  … But there are other stories that are not about catastrophe, and it’s very important, it is justas important to talk about them. I’ve always felt that it’s impossible to engage properly with a place or person without engaging with all the stories of that place or that person. The consequence of the single story is this: it robs people of dignity… it emphasizes how we are different, rather than how we are similar. … Stories matter. Many stories matter. Stories have been used to dispossess and to malign, but stories can also be used to empower and to humanize. Stories can break the dignity of people, but stories can also repair that broken dignity. … When we reject the single story, when we realize that there is never a single story about any place, we regain a kind of paradise.”  

– Chimamada Ngozi Adichie, quoted from a TED Talk
(filmed July 2009, posted October 2009)

If I haven’t shared the Solving Africa blog/website, forgive me. I’ll do so now. 

One Wednesday, there will be an exhibit hosted at the NYU School of Journalism. If you’re in the area, it’s something you should definitely check out. 

The evening will start with a reading, and then attendants are free to wander around looking at photographs and videos of Junior Kanu’s trip across Africa so far.  

You can expect to:

1.watch several fun snippets of my interviews with young people around the continent.
2.see hilarious moments of cross-cultural engagement caught on tape.
3.look at and purchase some of the best photos from the trip.
4.listen to some writing that I’ve completed toward the book.
5.join me in raising the remaining $2082 needed to make it to Senegal, Ghana and Nigeria.

Here are the details:
The Solving Africa Exhibit 
Wednesday, April 8, 6PM – 8PM
20 Cooper Square, 7th Floor
Dept. of Journalism, New York University

Show up at any time, as you are free to come and go as you please. The event coordinators do request that people try and RSVP on Facebook or by email to junior.kanu@gmail.com

There’s a multitude of Africans in the Diaspora. How does your life in the Diaspora line up or differ from this view of “What the Diaspora is all about”?

Introducting Solving Africa.

Written and organized by journalist Kingsley Kanu Jr. Solving Africa is a project/quest to discover how young people can contribute toward the development of Africa. 
He is a currently on tour of seven African countries— Dakar (Senegal), Accra (Ghana), Lagos (Nigeria), Addis Ababa (Ethiopia), Tunis (Tunisia), Nairobi (Kenya), and Johannesburg (South Africa). In this interview with Farafina magazine, he explains what Solving Africa is all about: 

This project is a collection of dreams; asking young Africans what they see as wrong or right with the continent and their role in its development. But it’s not a policy book. This is first and foremost a work of creative nonfiction that I hope makes people think about some of these issues. …

The African dream is to leave Africa. There are many people like me. We are often at the tops of our classes and each year, our SAT scores and achievements prove that we can run with the best from any country on earth. We have capable people who do not see Africa as theirs to build as much as something to sidestep. But if it isn’t this generation of an educated, uninformed African middle class, who else is going to care? Who else has the resources – social, political and economic – to care?

For those of us in the Diaspora, let’s keep up with his findings and see how we can contribute as well!

Credit: RICHARD LEWIS/AP

Today Nelson Mandela turns 90.

Not only does this man represent a sense of pride, progress and change for South Africans, he represents it for Africans as a whole.

He represents the moral integrity Africans need from the leaders to move forward into a better tomorrow.

Even in the Diaspora, he represents an image that is large than life.

He’s won a Nobel Peace Prize. He’s been TIME’s Man of the Year. He was South Africa’s first black president. He’s a man who changed history.

BBC has a collection of his most famous quotes. My favorite:

“The value of our shared reward will and must be measured by the joyful peace which will triumph, because the common humanity that bonds both black and white into one human race, will have said to each one of us that we shall all live like the children of paradise…

“But there are still some within our country who wrongly believe they can make a contribution to the cause of justice and peace by clinging to the shibboleths [dogmas] that have been proved to spell nothing but disaster.

“It remains our hope that these, too, will be blessed with sufficient reason to realise that history will not be denied and that the new society cannot be created by reproducing the repugnant past, however refined or enticingly repackaged.”

Here’s an interview he gave to CNN, looking back on his life. There’s also a series of news coverage on his life and how this landmark birthday is being celebrated. His life already is, and forever will be, memorialized.

Happy 90th Birthday, Mr. Mandela!

Update: If you’re in the Chicago area, on Monday, July 21, the Jazz Philharmonic is hosting a free concert in honor of Mandela’s 90th birthday.

Right now I’m really interested in the history and culture of Liberia, since I’ve worked on some articles and am hoping to do some other work about Rainbow Town and the Shine Foundation in the future. While doing some random reading/research, I fell across this piece published in the New York Times Magazine. It’s an excerpt from journalist Helene Cooper’s book “The House at Sugar Hill,” which comes out in September.

The piece is compelling, and I’m eager to read the book in its entirety when it comes out. While it’s a memoir, it offers historical information about Liberians – both natives and descendants from former American slaves. I learned so much from the little printed in the NYT magazine.

 It also tells a personal story of choosing to return home after being absent for so long. Regardless of where she lived, Africa remained a part of Helene Cooper and “The House at Sugar Hill” recounts how she found it again.  

by Leila Noelliste

From the outside, parking garage attendant Kobina Azhir looks like an American-born Black man. But Azhir, a Ghanaian seaman who came to the city 22 years ago, is one of 23,000 African immigrants living in metropolitan Chicago.

On May 31, the United African Organization, a partnership of 20 African immigrant communities, held a summit at the DuSable Museum of African American History, to shed light on immigrants like Azhir. Alie Kabba, executive director of UAO, said that “public eduction” is necessary since African immigrants are often overlooked, or misunderstood.

“We realized a few years ago that the challenge for (African immigrants) is to end our invisibility and help to educate people about contemporary African issues in order to better understand the experience of African immigrants and refugees in Illinois,” said Kabba, who came to Chicago from Sierra Leone in 1991.

The second Chicago Summit on African Immigrants and Refugees attracted more than 200 African, Arab and Latino immigrants, as well as African American supporters. Issues that Africans face within their own countries, as well as in Illinois, were discussed in plenary sessions. Though the number of participants is higher than last year’s 160, the modest turn out is a reflection of Africans’ struggle to catch broad attention and support.

“Within the larger immigrant community, we tend to be overshadowed by the Latino community because they have the numbers. So when people think about immigrants, they think about Latinos, and not Africans,” Kabba said. According to 2000 U.S. Census data, there are approximately 582,000 Mexican immigrants living in metropolitan Chicago, compared to just 23,000 African immigrants.

Nigerians make up the majority of that count. European and Asian immigrants account for 366,000 and 321,000 respectively. Like most immigrants, Africans come to America to flee political instability, pursue education, or establish a better life.

They are the most educated immigrant group in metropolitan Chicago and nationally, Kabba said. According to 2000 U.S. Census data, 95.4 percent of African immigrants who had entered metropolitan Chicago in the past 10 years had a high school degree or more, compared to 39.1 percent of Latin American immigrants, 73.8 percent of European immigrants and 85.3 percent of Asian immigrants.

But when it comes to accessing language, housing, employment and medical services African immigrants still suffer “institutional neglect,” Kabba said. He added that this is particularly damaging since African immigrants face the dual challenge of being Black and foreign. “Resources are directed to the community with the largest numbers, which is Latin Americans… The francophone (those from French-speaking African countries) have a language barrier.

“When I hear about bilingual resources, I think, ‘The definition of bilingual has got to go beyond Spanish. It’s got to include those in other communities’,” Kabba said. Carol Adams, secretary of the Illinois Department of Human Services, spoke at the summit and said that the state would take an “extra step to be inclusive” of African immigrants.

“When we talk about doing things for African American women, we are also including women who come from Africa,” Adams said. And the relationship between Africans and African Americans is critical, though plagued by miscommunication. The selection of DuSable for the summit was to represent the link between African Americans and African immigrants, who Kabba described as the “new African Americans.”

“Culture is a dynamic process,” said Kabba, and it’s a fact he has himself experienced. He had plans to move back to Sierra Leone after getting a degree in public policy from the University of Illinois, but a lengthy civil war in his homeland kept him here, where he is raising his 7-, 9-, and 12-yearold children.

“Being an African here is such a temporary identity. It’s a bridge to connect us to a more permanent space, and that permanent space is, naturally, within the African American community,” Kabba said. “When my kids grow up, they’re not going to think Sierra Leone. They’re going to think South Side, West Side, Chicago.”

(Source: The Chicago Defender)

Recently I wrote a blog about whether or not Africans in the Diaspora should return home, or stay where they are. Well, if this beginning quote from an article in Zimbabwe’s Sunday News then all Africans have a strong incentive to go home.

DESPITE a general upward trend in economic and social growth in Africa, massive brain drain continues to its take toll on the continent, with analysts claiming that it has the same effects as the slave trade and is worse than colonialism.

For those of you who don’t know, brain drain is defined as the large emigration of people with technical skills or knowledge. Usually the drain happens as a result of conflict, lack of opportunity, political instability or health risks. For most Africans, I think lack of opportunity and political instability are on the top of the list for why they have left their homes.

According to Wikipedia, little has been discussed about the brain drain in regards to Africa. Only, since it’s listed as one of the main biggest issues facing the developing countries in Africa … I think it’s being discussed a lot. Maybe it’s not as researched.

Either way, it’s a big concern for the United Nations right now. One officials estimated that in 25 years, Africa will be void of most of its skill and intellect.

But how do we reverse Africa’s brain drain? And is it really a brain drain? I mean, there are A LOT of very very smart people in Africa. Very innovative and absolutely ingenious. What they lack is a platform and opportunity. Which, again, is why many of them find themselves overseas — getting good educations and making more money than they would be at home.

But if that keeps happening, what happens to Africa?

I won’t say that every African in the Diaspora needs to pack up and return back to their homes. But in some way we must aim to return the expertise we are gaining elsewhere.

A question I get asked often is whether or not I have intention to live and work in Nigeria when I’m done with school and stuff. It’s a valid question, I suppose, but also one that is very difficult to answer.

While I lived in Nigeria as a child, I’ve only been back once since I returned to the U.S. in 1998, and I’m not so sure how I’d fare in any African country as an adult. And not because it’s Africa … just because it’d be a whole new country, a whole new continent. It’s not like moving to a new state.

And while I acknowledge that going back “home” isn’t for everyone, a part of me does hope to do so. My parents did it, and are very happy with their choice. So we’ll see …

I found this blog by Mwangi (The Displaced African) that discussed the pros and cons about returning to Africa versus staying in the Diaspora. The writer seems to be leaning more on the side of returning versus staying since he gives 4 reasons to go, and only 3 to stay.

But see what you think? Valid enough reasons to return home? Or is there more incentive to stay in the Diaspora?

Reasons to Return to Africa

1. Money and Entrepreneurship: It’s easier for a person to leave the West and make their fortunes in Africa than it would be had he not left in the first place.
2. To follow in great footsteps: African greats like Nkrumah and Nyerere left the luxuries of the West to return to a life of servitude in Africa.
3. To be with people like you: As Mwangi put it, “The person who created the expression, “There’s no place like home,” must have been an immigrant.”
4. Retirement: “We want to retire in style and in dignity and so we return to the place where we can: home.”

Reasons to stay in the Diaspora

1. The people are mean: I’m not going to even attempt to explain the blogger’s reasoning with this. You’ll just have to read it yourself.
2. It’s Hard: “Put the Western government-industrial-corporate-military complex which also likes the status-quo on top of all that and you have the road that an African community organizer must take.”
3. You like where you are: Self-explanatory.

Based on this list, I think I’d go back to Nigeria. Or any African country. But while I think Mwangi’s discussion of the issue is a bit trite, I do agree that it’s a hard decision to make. And those who do chose to return home make a noble and often courageous choice, in my opinion.

This story is the first part of a two-part series on NPR about polygamy.

In many African countries, polygamy is a way of life. And not only if you’re Muslim (as the NPR piece seems to say). Polygamy is a sign of wealth and of status. Many African chiefs (an honor given out somewhat freely nowadays; I’d liken them to the American socialite or something) take on two or three extra wives as his wealth increases or as he moves up in honor.

Even if this story focuses on polygamy in African Muslims, it points out many of the issues polygamy has for the many wives of the men who practice it. And what happens when these men move to America, or other parts of the world where polygamy is illegal?

Listen in and find out.