african stereotype Archives

February 14, 2011February 20, 2011

The Kind OF Rebranding Africa Needs

The last decade witnessed the resurgence of the buzz-word ‘rebranding’ in major African nations. From South Africa to Malawi, from Kenya to Nigeria, the story was the same. We witnessed rebranding jingoes and colorful advertisements from country to country but after all these years, have these rebranding efforts achieved their intended missions?

Africa has come to be associated with the image of a helpless continent that needs salvation. A continent that must adopt a predetermined posture, a ‘wanna be like them’, of the so-called nations that are acclaimed to have possessed the most sought-after traits. However, the achievements of Africans in varied fields world-wide tell a different story. From science and technology, trade and banking, from academia to entertainment and sports, the catalogue of achievements are too numerous to have earned the continent and its people such a negative image. All we see are horrible footages and colorful-gloss pictures of hungry-stricken malnourished children, refugees receiving food items from international donor agencies, pockets of population nearing extinction due to the HIV/AIDS pandemic, over-crowded cities with dilapidated infrastructures begging for World Bank’s intervention, etc. Do you call this international media conspiracy? You may be right.

However, our problems remain our problems. The way we go about solving them relies on the pertinent questions we ask instead of playing the blame-game. It is time to stop attributing our under-development to Western conspiracy and colonization which always give us the soft-landing. A landing that have placed the continent on the wrong footing of corruption, poverty, hunger, civil wars, electoral fraud, over-ambitious leaders, etc. These conditions were the yardsticks on which the so-called international organizations and development partners came in to play the ‘Big Brother’ role. What we as African people need do is take a journey of soul-searching, speak the truth to our conscience and resolve firmly that we as followers and leaders are ready to flow with current dynamics of change. Someone has said that ‘all great empires ever built were readily built in the heart of men before they came to their physical form’. The kinds of images we conceive in the eyes of our mind become the reality with time.

The type of rebranding we need as Africans is the rebranding of the mind. We do not need spend billions that could be channeled responsibly to improve and save lives in expensive “Nation Rebranding” campaigns.

November 12, 2010January 2, 2011

The Black woman’s new look

"Naked woman, black woman. Dressed in your color that is life, in your form that is beauty!", reads the famous line from Leopold Senghor’s Femme Noire. And yet, day in day out, the man regarded as one of the most revered African intellectuals of the last century is ridiculed down to his toe nails. Natural beauty? What natural beauty. From New York, London, Paris to Brazzaville, via Abidjan, Bamako, Dakar, Douala…, it is becoming increasing rare to come across Black women strutting their naturally strong feminine magnetism. Apart from the outrageous skin lightening phenomenon, the sexy afro hair has not only given way to synthetic hair, but hairs that are grown on Indian, Brazillian and Chinese heads. Congo, a typical African setting, has become the quintessential burlesque of the counterfeited African woman. Needless to say, it is a high return enterprise for a woman who proudly calls herself the Congolese "Marilyn Munroe"!

It is a fine September morning in Brazaville, Congo, and the bourgeois species has invaded the main morgue in the city. They are here to make sure that the body of a defunct dear one is properly appareled and ready for a big showy funeral. As paradoxical as it may seem, it is here in this morgue that the tired flabby skin and breasts of a corpse imbibed with hydroquinone is reborn. The low neckline dress or decolté thrown on the corpse to show its expensive breast job is confusing! "If God is dead, everything is permitted". Dostoevsky and Nietzsche couldn’t be more right. After all, humility is a tributary of that great river called pride. In Brazzaville, what should be a place of meditation and mourning has become a replica of the red carpet at the Cannes film festival. Women go to funerals to show off their curves, bosoms, new hair. Funerals are all about whetting sexual appetites. Mourning has been relegated to the background.

But even more surprising is that out of the 500 women present here at the morgue, 480 have long discarded their natural hair. They are either wearing wigs or weaves. Woe betide anyone who dares break the code of new womanhood and not wear a wig! And not just any wig. It has to be Brazilian or Indian! Insults and mockery against the prodigal daughter who doesn’t are virulent. "Brazilian" and "Indian" hair are second to none. And the Indians, whose hairs are transformed into wigs and are certainly unaware of their own abuse, continue to brighten the days of hundreds of Congolese women who line up to buy or rent fake hair with a mutinous urge, thousands of miles away.

In a corner of the morgue, one of the womenfolk’s "Indian" hair flows all the way down to caress her huge round buttocks, whilst her three year old daughter’s "Brazilian" dances the samba on her shoulders. "Without it (the Indian), I feel uneasy," says the Indian-haired Black mother, with a smirk. "From the first lady to the very last, we are all keen on frills, without which we are nothing". No one dares to challenge her as all eyes covetously move to another woman in the middle of the room, brazenly sporting nothing natural; from her bleached skin, false eyelashes, enhanced breasts, false nails, nose job, surgically implanted bluish green eyes, and of course her long Beyonce-looking wig. She is apparently a Congolese French-born Parisian gallery manager. "Like all women, I need to change my hairstyle from time to time for that surprise effect. This requires wigs or weaves, without which I am not in harmony with myself" she says.

And Congo is the land of The Miss. There are so many pageants to make Donald Trump run for dear life! The list is inexhaustible… Miss Fifty (years), Miss Forty (years), Miss fight against flies, Miss Total, Miss Fortune … All these women spend up to 700 Euros each (450 000 FCFA) on wigs. The Lace Wig, especially, can easily reach the sum of 1000 Euros.

"As long as there are black women, I wont be found wanting"

And in this big burlesque oratorio – where the most unnatural is queen – a young woman has found her perfect act. She organizes the orchestra of fakes. Thirty something, her unnaturally lightened skin is imbibed in cortisone. She would be white had it not been for those dark and stubbornly natural knuckles. Nonetheless, she’s got the title all the Bacongo women would die for: "the Congolese Marilyn Monroe". She is a natural blonde. Natural because her wig is. She gets her hair from Brazil. A businesswoman at heart, she does not own a wig or weave shop. No, she does not. She has made it big by renting out wigs that come straight from Brazil. More than four times per year, she travels from Brazzaville to Rio. Her business is a force to reckon with.

Every single Saturday, a myriad of superficial and extremist women armed to the nail hasten to her home at dawn, hours before she gets out of her satin linen bed. They have to be among the first arrivals to get the best. They are all fanatic converts of the "mine" (the art of borrowing clothes or accessories). Among them, are those who would rent a wig for 10 000 FCFA at the weekend, while there are those who rent a wig for 30 000 FCFA per week. The business woman has hundreds of customers in Brazzaville, with the exception of those who live on the outskirts.

Only recently, she rented a wig to a Member of Parliament for 50 000 CFA francs for two days. "The MP counted five fresh notes of 10 000 CFA francs without batting an eye, and she did not even try to bargain," enthused the entirely artificial Marilyn Munroe, adding: "As long as there are black women, I wont be found wanting: my head is throbbing with so many ideas for black beauty …" One of her biggest wishes is to have more customers like that good MP. And for good reason: "wigs rented by VIPs are returned intact, unlike those rented out to those ordinary girls". Besides, she wants to penetrate foreign markets. "Why not Cameroon where even the simple braids have not been seen for the past five thousand or so years?"

Her success has however stirred jealousy. And gossiping is rife: "Witchcraft partly explains her success," "She has lovers in every street corner, they are the ones who give her the money for her numerous trips," etc.. But "Marilyn Monroe" won’t be bothered. "It is true that many men want me! But my one and only boyfriend is enough!" What she fails to explain is her boyfriend’s probable fetishist tendencies; one that involves dating a woman who is artificially made from the crown of her head to the soles of her feet with the exception of her…

Notwithstanding the burlesque charade, "Marilyn Monroe" can be spared for one simple reason: Congo is an open madhouse. A place where everyone applauds everyone for no reason at all. On all fronts and at all levels there is someone ready to applaud… an applause for power cuts, one for water cuts, another one for that new dance move in town, how about a big one for Marilyn Munroe’s new wigs, an even louder one for that skin lightening product that bleaches the stubbornly dark skin on the knuckles? Yes the one with its own Black mind! Here, Michael Jackson is not seen as an artist, but one to be emulated.

A few months ago, Kenyan women had declared a sex strike to urge politicians to make more constitutional reforms. Men should do the same to encourage women to become more natural. But alas! some of the very men who can encourage that change are busily applying skin lightening creams and lotions. Do not say you were not forewarned, if you come across a poster with a male Congolese singer.

November 10, 2010February 5, 2011

How do we say your name?

In this article, I will be discussing some of the problems those of us who are ‘unlukcy’ to bear African names in the West go through. If you are lucky to be called John or Harriet, this will probably not make much sense to you. But I know to most of us it will.

First of all, let me admit, and of course if we’re going to be honest with ourselves, we all have some formulaic, rigid, over-simplified image of other people or group of people. The phenomenon just gets too wearisome when it is applied to Africa, an African or group of Africans. Everything about African is so simplified that a kindergarten kid should be able to comprehend it in its entirety. As Chimamanda Adichie described it, it is always a ‘single story’

It is not the over-simplification of the ‘African thing’ that is the problem. The problem is that in most cases, they tend to be untrue. This false African mindset enslaves the one that holds it, not the one about whom the label is held. As Jesus said, ‘and ye shall know the truth and the truth shall set you free”?

I cannot count the of times I’ve met people who will not even endeavor to mention my name for fear that it is too ‘African’ and they might get it wrong. Some years ago, I work in a company where the mail carrier never mentioned my name or even ever attempted to mutter it once. He used to stand at the entrance to my cube and throw my mails at my table and laugh it off saying, “man, I dare not try to pronounce your name”. “That’s fine”, I’ll interject. The paradox is that this man was someone I knew could easily say ‘very hard to say names’ on our floor such as those I have below as if he was singing ‘‘twinkle, twinkle little star”.

I know ‘hard to say’ is always relative but please come on, be objective and help me through this.

If someone can say Kuzszczak even in a dream, why can’t he utter Kwaku?

Why would someone who said Przemyslaw with ease ever complain about Prempeh or Gyamfi or Amponsah (all from Ghana)?

How about kizhcikzwarzcy against Abibola (Yuroba?)

Then help me with Solskjaer versus Similoluwa (Yuroba)?

Finally weight Szvzeven or Tzeentch against Kimutai (Kenya), or Tshabalala (South African)?

This is my explanation and I know I may be wrong. The first step in this process is for the person to see the name as African name, and there is nothing wrong with that. I see names that I can easily identify to be Chinese or Iranian names. However, when it comes to African names, this realization subsequently means that, as formula predicts, it should be difficult to pronounce and therefore even too scary to make the attempt. The individual gets incarcerated by his or her mathematical opinion of Africans and their stuff.

Does this bother me? No, not at all. But I know to a lot of people it does. Can we do something about it? May be not much except to show pride in our names, customs and traditions just as Indians and Chinese in the west do. It is ordinary people like you and I who have to embark on a mission to change the narrative for our children.

African names are cool.

November 7, 2010December 2, 2010

The danger of a single side story, by Chimamanda Adichie

Our lives, our cultures, are composed of many overlapping stories. Novelist Chimamanda Adichie tells the story of how she found her authentic cultural voice- and warns that if we hear only a single story about another person or country, we risk a critical misunderstanding. (TED Talks)

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Whose Report will you Believe?

The Western media for has decades depicted Africa as a continent synonymous with genocide, disease, corruption, poverty, ignorance, deprivation, banditry, brigandage, slaughter fields, child soldiers, gang-raped girls, harassed mothers and wasted children. The continent is even at times referred to as the ‘dark’ continent. Surely, we are plagued by some of these challenges as a result of our own attitudes and leadership but also as a result external forces.

Nevertheless, such one-size-fit-all description is irresponsible, to day the least Some countries and sub-regions have made significant strides but these are never reported and the western media doesn’t seem to be interested even if they can get this news for free.

It will take a lot of energy and time to expunge this mindset about our continent and people. I have a role to play and so do you. We’ve got to graciously but aggressively challenge people when we know they are wide of the mark. But this requires that we arm ourselves with the best facts and figures about our people and continent.

How many times have you heard someone recounting African as a country that is in a civil war? Both are false. The truth is that Africa is not a country and Africa is not in a civil war. Perception becomes a reality if it is not confronted.

How long do you think it should take for us to let people know that:

Africa is a continent of 54 independent countries with nearly 1 billion people (about 3 times population of the US)
That the size of the African continent (30,3 million km²) is larger than the combination of China (9,6 million km²), the US (9,4 million km²), Western Europe (4,9 million km²), India (3,2 million km²) and Argentina (2,8 million km
That African’s population consists of blacks, Arabs, whites, and Indians?
That Africans abroad remit back home about $40 billion annually and still manage to pay their mortgage and credit cards.
That English, French, Arabic, Portuguese are used as medium of instructions right from kindergarten in most countries.
That like Brazil, Peru, and Australia, the Democratic Republic of Congo has one of the richest ecosystems in the world (have you ever heard something good about the DRC?)
That Africa is not a parasite on the western economy but rather make significant contributions to the global economy, with an estimated combined purchasing power of more than $2.5 trillion [source: United Nations Development Programme (UNDP)].
That Africa has the only street in the world to house two Nobel Peace prize winners. It is Vilakazi Street, Soweto, South Africa. Both Nelson Mandela and Archbishop Desmond Tutu have houses on the street (that’s significant, I think).
That Africa is not all slums. From Johannesburg to Dakar, Dares Salaam to Nairobi, Accra to Cairo many African cities boast of towering skyscrapers, complex infrastructures, 21st Universities and a sizzling nightlife that will amaze any first time uninformed tourist
That the continent can boast of some of the most talented athletes on the planet. Every major club in Europe can boast of a couple of African athletes and most European stadiums are empty (permit a little exaggeration) for the 4 weeks African athletes leave for the African Cup of Nations.

The more we’re able to communicate some of the positive values, customs, cultures and achievements, the more we will see tourist choosing Zambia or Tanzania for their vacation. The ripple effect is that hotels and places of attraction will cash in, hire more people who will then spend more. It is time to uncover the Africa they don’t know. I take pride in that and benefit from it too, and I think you do also.

So whose report will you believe?

The Danger of a Single Side Story, by Chimamanda Adichie

Our lives, our cultures, are composed of many overlapping stories. Novelist Chimamanda Adichie tells the story of how she found her authentic cultural voice — and warns that if we hear only a single story about another person or country, we risk a critical misunderstanding.

Why you should listen to her:

In Nigeria, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s novel Half of a Yellow Sun has helped inspire new, cross-generational communication about the Biafran war. In this and in her other works, she seeks to instill dignity into the finest details of each character, whether poor, middle class or rich, exposing along the way the deep scars of colonialism in the African landscape.

Adichie’s newest book, The Thing Around Your Neck, is a brilliant collection of stories about Nigerians struggling to cope with a corrupted context in their home country, and about the Nigerian immigrant experience.

Adichie builds on the literary tradition of Igbo literary giant Chinua Achebe—and when she found out that Achebe liked Half of a Yellow Sun, she says she cried for a whole day. What he said about her rings true: “We do not usually associate wisdom with beginners, but here is a new writer endowed with the gift of ancient storytellers.”

“When she turned 10 and read Chinua Achebe’s Things Fall Apart, about the clash between Igbo tradition and the British colonial way of life, everything changed: ‘I realized that people who looked like me could live in books.’ She has been writing about Africa ever since.” Washington Post

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TED TALK