A philosopher said there are two kinds of suffering: one leads to more suffering; the other brings an end to suffering. Nothing distresses one more than running away from poverty and misery at home and meeting miserable death abroad. The lot of Nigerians in South Africa is not unique to that branch of Nigerian refugees. If it is the loudest, it is because the beat of suffering is danced to differently by the afflicted. In South Africa, they suffer, shout and attempt a fight-back. In Asia, Europe and America, they suffer, sob and flash consolatory smiles on Facebook and Instagram. In the arid deserts of North Africa and Saudi Arabia, they cluster in shivering cold, muttering silent, ambiguous prayers. They must not sob and shed tears and be seen doing so by their Arab owners. They are lower than lower animals – check the internet; it has stories to tell. The Diaspora Nigerian suffers humiliation and sometimes death everywhere Nigeria has chased him to. And yet, he won’t come back home. He cannot. If there is certain death abroad, there is equally certain shame at home. And is it not stubbornly said that death is better than shame?
Read Also:
It doesn’t take long for luxuriant rivers to dry up in Africa, killing off all their fishes. Rich, proud Nigeria that chased Ghana out in the 1980s now begs for menial seats across the world. Black lakes don’t grow larger; they get silted, they shrink and foul the earth. The world has always noted and anticipated this. Most times they assist in quickening the descent. August 16, 1985, apartheid South African President Peter Botha addressed 1,800 whites in Durban’s City Hall at the opening of the Natal Provincial Congress of his then governing National Party. He looked his people straight in the eyes and said, look, if blacks were allowed to take over the country, it ‘’will drift into factions, strife, chaos and poverty.” He was a prophet. Chaos is the first name of that country today. It has gone so pitiably steadily wrong in leadership and off the radar in direction. South Africa has climbed down from the heights of iconic Nelson Mandela and mercurial, calm Thabo Mbeki, to the lows of rotten Jacob Zuma and xenophobic Cyril Ramaphosa. The country is yet to finish with itself. Its focus is ground zero, and it must get there whether the world likes that or not. If you are in doubt, listen to the very loud incompetence and arrogance of its present leaders. They sound exactly like 1980 Nigeria and its Ghana-Must-Go cries
Yet, it is an African problem. It is a great thing to be born; it is greater to know why and live that why. The black man continually seeks to paint shadows in the dark. He is a mismanaged patient drifting from one infirmary to the other. He cannot get well unless he gets the right attention at the right time from competent care givers. Is it not funny that even lazy, lousy black South Africans work very hard to set themselves apart from the other ‘blacker’ parts of Africa? They say they are South Africa, not Africa. They say this repeatedly in cryptic figures of speech and with ugly, bloody body languages. And is it their fault? Blame that ‘destiny’ that has repeatedly given dark Africa bumbling leaders – cooks who get handsomely paid for preparing watery, tasteless soups.
In a 2010 article, Greg Mills, then director of the Brenthurst Foundation based in Johannesburg, South Africa, noted that sub-Sahara African countries suffer because they have refused to grow and think since independence. They grieve and do nothing and would rather blame their gods or the old, ugly colonialism and new colonialism for their ailments. He said: “while other developing countries and regions have grown over the past 50 years, much of Africa has stagnated. African leaders have become adept at externalizing blame, holding others responsible for Africa’s failings. Yet, African leaders—not a lack of capital, access to world markets, or technical expertise—are to blame for the continent’s underdevelopment.”
Before you shake your head and say he was wrong, please pause and consider South Africans’ excuse for attacking their African brothers; think of President Muhammadu Buhari and his predecessors; remember Robert Mugabe who died on Friday and his descent from good to bad. Think of all the ugliness around and about the confused rent seekers and takers pretending to be running your country.
Look at Robert Mugabe who died last week at 95. He made 200 hefty heaps with his youthful hands, but once in power, he, with his strong legs, scattered them all. He was a hero. He was a villain. He was god. He was human. His life was a mirror image of Africa and its leadership. In Africa, we aim high and shoot low – almost always. Now that Mugabe is dead, maybe we should use his death to ransom Africa out of its life of sit-tight misfortunes and contradictions.
