Out of Africa

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.

This year marks the 50th anniversary of Chinua Achebe’s “Things Fall Apart.” The book is hailed as the beginning of modern African literature. Chinua Achebe, hailed as the father of African literature.

There have been a lot of good interviews, articles, conferences and ceremonies, honoring the legacy both Achebe and his book has created for African writers.

The following is an interview with Evan Mwangi, an English professor at Northwestern University, who teaches African literature (and is from Kenya) about the beginnings of modern African literature, its evolution and how Achebe’s “Things Fall Apart” fits into it all.

Audio

Interview Transcription

Bunmi Ishola: We can kind of start out sort of with the history of African literature; where it all started out.

Evan Mwangi: The major books in African literature started in the 1950s. They started writing in the 1950s, and they did not make as much impact as “Things Fall Apart,” which was published in 1958. And so it ["Things Fall Apart"] became like the benchmark of African literature. And mainly, all these novels, were mainly a response to what the writers felt were distortions and misrepresentations of Africa by Western writers. [Achebe has said that he wrote "Things Fall Apart" to Joseph Conrad's "Heart of Darkness," and to books written by colonial masters like Mr. Johnson].

BI: Do you think, in a sense, that the book deserved to be the benchmark?

EM: Yes, the book is very well written. Achebe also has a very balanced view of both the Europeans and Africa. Those [older novels written by the West] would idealize colonial Africa as a perfect, romantic place. But Achebe views Africa from a much more objective position. So that he’s criticizing the pre-colonial culture, as much as he’s criticizing colonialism for some of the bad things that happened in Africa.

BI: And after this book was published, what was the development of Africa literature?

EM: Almost all the major authors in Africa wrote their versions of “Things Fall Apart.” So that, almost every country had a “Things Fall Apart;” again, talking about the contact between Europeans and African cultures, and the controversies that arose out of that. The writers persisted in talking about the pre-colonial past way into the 1960s. But later, in the late 1960s, they started talking about the disillusionment with post-independence condition. And mainly what I think they are doing by going back to pre-colonial past is trying to let African know that they have beautiful culture, that they need to preserve their culture. They should have confidence in themselves as a society.

BI: More recently there have been a lot of writers of African descent just coming up lately. I’ve noticed many of the ones that are getting the most remarks [Chris Abani, Chimamanda Adichie, Sefi Atta, Helon Habila] are from Nigerian. I don’t know if you have any theories as to why?

EM: Most likely it’s because of the exile. [In] Nigeria, military dictatorship has been really bad. So writers have been able to go to exile. It happened in the apartheid era too. There were a lot of writers operating in exile. And that’s why there’s a very strong Nigerian diasporic writing, I guess. I think, the reason that Nigeria is so prominent in African Diasporic writing could be because of the economic and political circumstances. If you remember, people like Chris Abani have been jailed. Yeah, he was jailed by Sani Abacha.

BI: I know, for both, at least, Abani and Adichie, they mentioned that Achebe had a lot of influence on the reasons why they write now, and even they way they choose to write. What do you see some of these influences being, and why do you think he is such a strong influence? 

EM: I think it is mainly the emphasis on the thematic relevance of the texts. Like when you read Adichie, she’s very sensitive to the politics of Nigeria. Even if she’s writing, like in [Half of a Yellow Sun], she’s writing about Nigeria of the 1960s, she’s commenting about the present. Just the way Achebe, still, when he’s talking about pre-colonial past — he’s not so much interested in romanticizing that past, he’s commenting about the present-day Nigeria. So, to say, the level of themes, and making sure they [newer African/Nigerian writers] are relevant to their communities, they have followed in the footsteps of Achebe. But they are also changing, they are not just imitating Achebe slavishly. Like Adichie forgrots gender a lot, in a way you may not find in Achebe. Even Chris Abani; issues of gender and sexuality are very prominent in his writing. So they use Achebe, just the way Achebe used the past — in a critical way.   

BI: Where do you see African literature going in the future?

EM: That’s a tough question. But, I think it’s growing. There are people who seem to see African literature as maybe off. Mainly because the kind of writers they see published in the West, they seem to be addressing Western audience as opposed to the African readers. So that this literature becomes part of the West, and the literature in Africa dies off. But I think there are very strong literary traditions in almost all regions of Africa. I think the literature is very good, and it’s going to be talking about issues to do with the Diaspora, issues to do with gender and sexuality. Literature that maybe the Achebe generation may not have been very much interested in.

“Yes We Can!”

That’s the motto, chant, or whatever you want to call it, of Barack Obama’s presidential campaign.

And a lot of Africans believe that “Yes, they can!” too … as it shows in songs created by the continent’s musicians.

“Yes, We Can” sounds the same in Luo as it does in English.

Here are some examples:

• Cameroonian ex-pat Fojeba, copied the Black Eyed Peas and splices excerpts from a speech over a Makossa rhythm:
  

• Here’s Ghana’s Blakk Rasta’s “Barak Obama Crunk,” the song mostly warns Obama to mind his safety, because there are racists out there:

• Kenya’s Tony Nyadundo song “Obama”

Oh, and not only is Barack Obama making it into Pan-African music … he’s infiltrating other parts of culture too:

The gap between America’s high-minded rhetoric and its historical, breathtaking insensitivity towards Africans and African-Americans has been a source of disenchantment for millions … Suffice it to say that John Kerry never had a beer named after him, whereas Obama is exalted in every hop and grain in Senator, a frothy and occasionally lethal substance sold cheaply in the slums of Nairobi. And John McCain, Hillary Clinton be damned. They’re already calling it President.

One of my last posts questioned whether or not the U.S. held any responsibility for the refugees they bring in, making sure they acclimated and survived in this new environment and culture. Here’s another story talking about some of the struggles of African immigrants (primarily refugees).

… now that’s what I’m talking about.