BN Prose: Inside the Mind of an Immigrant By Amara Nnaji

As fresh commuters crowded into the train, I looked up from the back where we sat and saw her. Already seated. She took up the entire row meant for three and stretched out, lounging with her feet on the chairs. The fact that it was a station and passengers were coming in didn’t faze her. As she leaned forward, chirping to her friends across the aisle, she thought in her world, anyone who couldn’t find a seat should either stand or hang.

I stared at her and cringed.

Dear God, how do humans put on their shoes in a shared public facility? Or is it me? There is no level of integration which will make me stop cringing and accept it as the norm.

Don’t even mention adaptability and accepting people as they are. This is so wrong on all levels. I could literally hear my friend Chinwe in Lagos complaining about my fastidiousness over which footwear comes in or stays where. 

I mean, you step outside your glass and look at it from the outside-in.  A footwear which parades everywhere, picks up all sorts of germs – including stepping on dog poop – is plunked directly onto a communal chair or table. Where is the logic in that? And I am expected to pretend it doesn’t concern me? Move on and write it off as another culture shock? This goes beyond culture shock. It is etiquette and manners.

“There we go again, the war of the savages and barbarians.”

“Oh, please, Lantana, just stuff it!”

“Sorry o, what did I say now?”

“You just inferred that it is okay to place dirty shoes on chairs and tables.”

“At what point did I say that? You are looking for a scapegoat.”

“Then what did you mean by the war of the barbarians and savages?”

“Girl, I am with you on this. I was referring to that line in Pocahontas when she sang about the colonists. How they referred to the indigenes as barbarians, while they, the invaders, were actually savages. Have you forgotten that cartoon? We watched it together…”

“I remember joor. Just not in the mood for your cartoon now.”

“Babe, I am on your side here o. No be me be oyibo wey dey put leg for chair.”

“As in, dem no dey reason am? Look around you. You step out of your home into a bus, train, library, or just about any shared space and you don’t know which germs you are inviting back home with you. I know germs are everywhere, and this is not even OCD, but do they not get it? And it is both young and old. Everyone who can simply plop their shoes on shared sitting spaces without a thought for the next person.”

“As in, we never even talk dog own finish.”

“Ah, don’t get me started! Aja wey dey waka for tiiti, road o, without shoes, den come balance on top chair for inside moto.”

“This is why I advocate for getting an education. Any education: travel, read, museum, history; just get out of your head and go to other lands and cultures. Find out how it is done in other places. Sebi, if you read, you would learn how other cultures live.”

“Madam, everybody cannot be like you.  You practically lived all over Nigeria as a child and grew up with oyibos.  Then, as an adult, you kept traversing everywhere as if you owed your landlord.”

“Money can never buy the education I derived. At least I am not like you Lagosians, who all you know is Lagos, yet highly opinionated about other parts of the country.”

“Shuo, we don comot Iya Charlie backyard enter Lasgidi now now?”

“All of dem join na. The depth of their ignorance reminds me of the same thing back home. Like how you Lagosians thumb your noses up at the Northerners and derogatorily call them Aboki or Mallam, without even knowing the meaning of the words. You would see someone who has never travelled outside of Western Nigeria and speaks only one language, yet they look at their Maigadi or househelp and scornfully tag them a bush person.”

“Ehn, when they behave backwards nko? Abi, you don’t see how they…?”

“Gbenu é dàké joo! Mechie ọnụ there! Team container-over-content. That is why you Lagosians are so easily beguiled yet una think say na una woke pass.”

“Where did container-over-content come into this matter now? How do you find it so easy to veer off in the middle of conversations? You and someone will be heading to Sokoto, the next thing you don divert enter Ogbomoso?”

“Sebi if you know road, you would have known that Ogbomosho lies on that route to Sokoto. But since na only Lagos and airport you know without even studying the physical Geography of your country, how I wan help you?  Anyway, as I was saying before, you rudely interrupted my tirade, a person who has lived in countries you only read of and shuttled between borders whose names you can’t pronounce, someone who speaks Hausa, Fulfulde, French, Arabic, Idoma, Igala, Egun, in addition to the English you speak. You look at such a person and tag them an illiterate.

Because your eyes estimate them as not woke like you, you think you are smarter than they are. Not knowing that they also look at you pityingly. Yes, with pity because it is such a jarring culture shock for them to see how you delight in taking advantage of others. They shake their heads with pity at the depth of depravity which makes one gloat about ripping others off.  Abi no bi wetin una dey call ‘smart’ be dat? But imagine if you had travelled and lived among them. Like really mingle with them, not stay cocooned up in a hotel or your relative’s house in the GRA.”

“GRA?  What is that?”

“Government Reserved Area. What you now term an Estate.”

“Reserved abi residential?”

“Very funny. Something I knew from primary school, naim you wan argue with me now.”

“Wait, why am I even having this conversation with someone who doesn’t know what GRA stands for? How old are you again?”

“When you hear Ikeja or Papa GRA, what do you think it means?”

“I don’t think anything. I merely think it’s a name.”

“Ha! And here I am, trying to explain to awọn oyibo why we do not bring outside shoes inside the house.”

“Yes, I was also trying to learn why, as I don’t understand why the Northerners make a fuss about it. It’s not even like they sit on the chairs sef, people that fold their legs on the floor.”

“A fuss?”

“So you mean, common sense doesn’t tell you that you cannot bring outside germs inside?”

“Explain.”

“When you walk outside, your shoes pick up things. Things that shouldn’t come into a house, and didn’t you just say they sit on the floors now? So, there I am, preserving the cleanliness of my home because I prefer being grounded with nature, then you thoughtlessly bring in your outside footwear and contaminate my neat space ba? Moreover, you say Northerners as if it is only peculiar to Nigeria. It is a culture spread across Muslim societies, be they in Africa or the Arab world, plus most of the Asian world, irrespective of their faith… Have you heard about the Japanese Tatami or the Korean Ondol?”

“Nope.”

“How many religions are in India?”

“I don’t know joor. All these your WAEC questions,” Lantana walks away.

“No o, come back. Don’t walk away yet. You don’t know the religions in India, but do you know that they all sit on the floor?”

“Really?”

“Yes. Really. But you see, as your small mind has biased you to think it is only Hausas who sit on the floor because in your head dem no fit afford chair or na dem dirty pass. You know say those oyibo sef sit on the floor too?”

“Na so I see o. But how come they wear shoes into the house, on chairs, tables, beds, etc?”

“Woo, that one concern dem. Pipu wey dey let dog lick their face. And that is where social intelligence comes in. If you mingle with others, you will learn and understand what is offensive, across cultures, in social interactions and how not to offend. Which is why I like the crash courses their foreign offices provide to tourists and expats. They inform them upfront that in the new country you are going to, you are a tiny speck, and the locals no send you, so you gats behave before you go there begin swagger like king”

“Babe, sebi you see your hypocrisy?”

“What?”

“So if they leave their lands, they should comport themselves and behave as una want and yet you no want them to relax if dem dey their land?”

“How did you infer that from this conversation, mbok?”

“They are in their land, na papa house be dat abeg. If you no like am, go back to your own papa’s house. Shuo! Imagine make househelp come dey tell ya pikin how to behave for your house!”

“Na today? When you no train your pikin leave am for househelp nko?”

“See ehn, next time you see person put leg for chair, either comot ya eye or carry your green pali come back to Murtala Mohammed Airport.”