Nigerians in deep down south

GLOBE ROVING

How does it feel to be Nigerian in South Africa? Do we have to spend time,, defending ourselves every day? I have been duped twice by South Africans. I did not go around,, shedding tears and calling all South Africans criminals.

On Monday, 24 February, 2020 at 14:10, a day to my last day in São Paulo, I received an email that reads: “Dear Onyeka, we are interested in your manuscript. You are a brilliant writer. Thabiso wants to meet with you on Tuesday 2nd of March at 2pm. Please, may you confirm your availability and I will send you a meeting request with the venue.”

This was before I signed with my agent, Priya Doraswamy of Lotus Lane Literary. So, that afternoon in São Paulo, I gathered a few acquaintances at Galeria Presidente and drank, while Nigerian songs played loudly in the background. Those acquaintances are not readers and they don’t care about literature, so I am sure they did not understand why I was celebrating. They are here in this bustling city, to ‘hustle’ to make their dreams come true. My own dream just came true. 

I arrived São Paulo, to see how the carnival works. Colourful setting, fireworks, beautiful men and women, all in bum shorts and skimpy clothing. I had just spent the other night, talking to a Nigerian man, who is on parole, after spending 14 years in prison. I told him I would love to recreate his story into a book. He was elated about it. We joined the crowd, marching and he kept telling me all that happened, before and after his sentencing. He is now serving food in a dingy Nigerian restaurant in the mall. He is trying to reintegrate. As he told me, all his loved ones in Nigeria, have died. He chose to say they were killed. His story is harrowing. 

Thabiso Mahlape is the founder of BlackBird Books. She is a bubbly and energetic fellow. We haven’t met yet, because once Coronavirus came, everyone became scared. But, we had a WhatsApp call or Zoom? I don’t remember and she radiates elegance, grace and brilliance. She is interested in publishing my new work of fiction, The Strangers of Braamfontein. There is a suburb of Johannesburg called Braamfontein. There are lots of Nigerians there, running their businesses, alongside other nationals, especially the Zimbabweans and Cameroonians.

For South Africans, Nigeria is a den of crooks and con-men. For South Africans, foreigners have stolen jobs from them. For the South African men, Nigerian men have taken their ladies with their ill-gotten money. The South African finds it hard to look at himself in the mirror, to judge himself. He loves to push the blame to the foreigner, so nobody thinks he is incompetent. That is why I said to myself: “Write a book about the foreigners dealing with themselves in South Africa, without involving South Africans.”

Nigerians in Johannesburg create jobs for themselves and employ Zimbabweans. Most Nigerian restaurants have employees from Zimbabwe. Zimbabweans and Nigerians run hair salons together. They say South Africans think lowly of them and wouldn’t want to be employed in such places. I thought it is important to fictionalise these things and entertain the world. 

Whatever, my publisher is South African and she found this story intriguing. How does it feel to be Nigerian in South Africa? Do we have to spend time, defending ourselves every day? I have been duped twice by South Africans. I did not go around, shedding tears and calling all South Africans criminals. The last straw was by a young South African, who took R700 from me, to get me a travel permit from the police, to enable me go around during the Lockdown. He stopped replying my messages. I messaged him to tell him I would lodge a complaint at the police station and he said: “Also tell them you paid for an illegal permit.” I did not know I was paying for something illegal, but since he took my money, I could only perform Voodoo spells on him and his family. He returned to tell me he had hives on his face. I told him to go with the money, that more misfortune will befall him and his family. I have never gone anywhere to say all South Africans are dupes. 

I hope that when The Strangers of Braamfontein is published, it can start a conversation on nationalism and stereotype. I took my time, to observe and write. As I left São Paulo excitedly to Kingston, I was faced with another dilemma: there is the constant splash of belief the Jamaicans besiege me with, that we sold them into slavery. And I was not ready for it!

Nwelue is a writer, filmmaker and Historian, Advisory Board Member, Global Community of Social Sciiences: https://www.globecos.com/advisory-board, writes from Jo’Burg