Niyi in NAPEP

I spent 19 years of my life growing up in Nigeria so I can fairly say I am ” used” to how things operate in Nigeria. I am now 28, I have seen a bit of the world and with a little exposure and privilege( I do consider my education a privilege) my heart longs for a Nigeria for Nigerians. I’ve just been in Lagos for 2 weeks to solidify an offer to move back home. These 2 weeks have been extremely infuriating, the insane driving, the general impatience of people, personal space, personal hygiene, defensive condescension, because I speak better than you in your mind, you immediately puff up like a peacock to prove something to me. I can go on….
But in a new plight of maturity and acceptance that this “so called life” I should be used to, will be my life again; I began to swallow my complaints especially when they are matched with “madam welcome to Lagos, welcome to Nigeria”.
I’m not certain how I can accept that? I had the most delicious seafood okra from a place called Yellow Chilli, the prawns were larger than I’ve ever seen in any foreign country, the peachy color of the tail said to me they were fresh ofF the boat, the large grooves of its curl and the fleshy texture in every bite said “I just hit the hot water and then Niyi’s plate”, it was amazing! I was very expressive on how amazing I thought this dish was but no one said to me ” welcome to Lagos, we rest on the Atlantic so this is what you should expect”. If I spoke up about being harassed by a security official, or I was in traffic for 3 hours on a journey that should have taken 15 minutes, I get the “Welcome to Nigeria”
The psychology of that tells me that we have a negative outlook on our country and on our state, and with worse, we have accepted it. I guess it’s this acceptance that I battle with. I don’t want to be a complainer, a butter girl, I don’t want to be a fighter, I want to pick my battles wisely and ensure I can win them. But with all my suppressed negative feelings about accepting the negative things as unchangeable, I am bound to blow up.

I’ll give you an example
In the name of traffic, I headed for the airport at 4pm for a flight that was scheduled at 9:30pm. traffic was indeed horrendous. If you knew me, you would know that there was a hurricane brewing inside me and as much as I love Jesus, I kind of didn’t want Him to intervene, I wanted to blow. It was random “officials” asking me to open my handbag outside the airport entrance and then passing it though a scanner which Casper the friendly ghost or some unseen ogbanje was monitoring. Gone through all the process and it was time again for 3 “officials” 2 male 1 female to physically go through my suitcase. As I approached the lady, she immediately took off the gloves she was wearing and replaced them before proceeding to check my suitcase, I smiled at her in appreciation and as I looked away I caught the next inspector, picking his nose, his finger nails long yellow with black grime under them. As she passed my suitcase toward him, I immediately said as locally as I could ” oga please put on your gloves”. Was I ridiculous in demanding that for my safety and his as well(though honestly I was more preoccupied with mine) that the best practice was for him to wear his gloves. He flipped out! “who do you think you are?” me, a Nigerian, “is it because you are going to America?” me, well no, because your hands are dirty, you were just looking for 10kobo from the 80’s in your nose, I think you found it and it’s of no value to me so I don’t want it in my things, thank you very much!. ” you are not leaving this country today, do you know who I work for?” Me, you work for me! ” I work for you? Did you buy me gloves? I work for the agency. So I proceeded to ask him what agency he worked for, of which he did not know the name but insisted that he worked for the government and I should carry my suitcase and go back home. The airline, being a private agency could not overthrow his authority, they would not issue my boarding pass because he had not checked my luggage and then the famous words I loathe to hear were going to ensue in the next 2 sentences “madam please beg him so he can let you go, welcome to Nigeria!”
Really? Ebola scare amongst a very colorful bouquet of other respiratory diseases, I had to beg the gloveless illiterate buffoon to check my suitcase? Because in a bid to protect myself, I had bruised his bucket sized ego? The other male official chimed in “women don’t behave like this, confronting a man”. I am not even that feminist, I will someday submit myself to my husband and serve the living day light out of him, I hope my husband will do the same in return. But somehow the statement gravely offended me. I was over it and homeward bound mentally, till something unexpected and amazing happened

3 women asked me what happened, I could barely complete my sentences before they began fearlessly demanding that this uniformed official put on his gloves. Before I was out of the velvet rope, the crowd had grown more boisterous, they began to make demands that he change his gloves per every suitcase he checked, I beamed with joy and his senseless defense of himself became classic “Oga at the top” stammering. What was even more beautiful to watch was my people stand up for me, for themselves. Watching them making demands within reasonable means not accepting the tyranny of an uneducated government official who probably doesn’t know the part of our pledge “to serve Nigeria with all my strength, defend her unity, uphold her honor and glory” Well we taught him, he put on the gloves and I proceeded to open my suitcase. In his chauvinistic bid to passively punish me, he made me open every lotion and potion, secured and bubble wrapped items. And in my passively feminist way I assisted him in digging through my suitcase and throwing my lacy bras and thongs on his hand as he dug.

What’s the point to all this, I never want to get used to how bad my country is, I want to be able to speak about her with pride and joy and not accept poor treatment of me and my fellow human. I want to be adept in picking battles, little to big ones and hopefully we can someday collectively fix the Goliath of a mess some things are in Nigeria. No end date to the madness yet but after the whole glove saga, I feel that there is hope and with that hope is how I will like to welcome myself to Nigeria.
Btw, MMA is coming up roses these days, thumbs up to the people involved.