MY HiGHLiGHTED LiFE

-alors-on-danse-:

mangoislandfugitive:

want to tell you a story about how I stopped explaining Africa to my American peers. It all started the year I enrolled into a vastly unfamiliar territory called ” high school” in the United States. I had transferred out from secondary school in Nigeria, and at 16, I had been thrown into the American education system, where I wearily exchanged my “ours” for “ors” and my “ise” for the incomprehensible ” ize”. Where I thought for seconds before I wrote my date, and my Fahrenheit transcended to celsius, kilograms became pounds, and centimeters became meters. This was part of the system, so I willingly traded these things I had learned in Nigeria to succeed in high school in the United States, which I did… easily. However I still watched as a stream of red, in the form of pen, wielded by teacher, crossed line after line in essay’s I had carefully written under the burn of a 220-watt light. Everything was easy, and everything was hard.

The hardest part was explaining where I came from, to my peers, to teachers, to school administrators… to the bus driver. Explaining things that I had somehow hoped people would have discovered through media, through textbooks or through school.  I mean, I had learned about the United States through all those things, so why would the favor not be returned? Needless to say, my high school conversations seemed to strike the same format, and the repetition was exhausting, the ignorance was hurtful and anger was building.

Person A: “Hi! OMG YOU ARE FROM AFRICA? LIKE DO YOU SPEAK AFRICAN, SAY MY NAME IN AFRICAN, CAN YOU DO THE TONGUE CLICK THING?” (Aggressively clicks tongue, and sprays saliva into the growing spatial length between us)

Me:( with a voice weary from this constant verbal battle) “I am from Nigeria, where we speak over 250 ethnic languages, English is my first language because Nigeria was a British colony, hence English is spoken, especially within major cities. “, (grabs backpack and proceeds to leave classroom)

Person A: “Okay” (said divisively) well I heard you guys swing in trees and run around naked like Tarzan, I can’t believe people still do that back there, and with all the AIDS running around the place. I know Africa is a really big COUNTRY, but you guys need to find a way to control the AIDS crisis, your country really is like you know a dark country.

Me - ” This bitch” (thinks to self, begins packing bag with super human speed)

Person A: (continuing right along) ” Well then how did you get here? do you guys even have telephones? I heard you live in mud houses and by Safari’s that’s really cool”

At this point my angry face has won the raging Dr. Jekyll /Mr. Hyde battle within me.

Me- ” Well I rode on a Zebra here”

Person A: “huh?” (Blank stare)

 An awkward silence ensues, while I contemplate continuing a conversation that might end up condescending.

Me  ” Yeah you know I rode on a Zebra here, it was quite the ride, rough skin scabbing the sides of my thighs, and the don’t even get me started on the Sahara desert, my gosh that place is hot, my naked body couldn’t take it, so we wrapped ourselves in the leaves we brought back from the swamps”

Person A: …

Me: Oh and I wouldn’t be too worried about telephone’s either, we just send smoke signals like some crazy indigenous shit.

Person A: … ” okay (drags out to show their brains ability to pick up sarcasm), what about the child soldiers and the AK 47’s huh, you can’t even tell me that’s not true (face glowing with the false feeling of victory)

Me: Ohhh you mean the AK-47’s the US and Russia have managed to circulate around Africa and the Middle East? in their efforts to control governments that oppose them, and resources they seek to control. I won’t deny that we have some greedy dictators, but I wouldn’t blame them completely for the shit we are in. The AK-47’s that are most likely prevalent in some African countries, seeing as Africa is a CONTINENT, are found in areas that are war torn.

Person A: ” Okay so, by the way, if you are African why are you not so dark, like isn’t everyone really dark skinned over there”

Me: Fuck off

Person A: ” dude seriously? You don’t have to be so rude about it!”

Me: “Yeah I fucking do. I am tired of people, not taking the time to actually read and research shit, and then coming to my face to spew ignorance. Go read a book, and switch off your fucking Red cross ” SAVE AN AFRICAN BABY” avec Sarah Mclachlan soundtrack bullshit television crap and actually learn about a world outside America, other countries are doing it, so why wouldn’t you?

Person A: whatever man, no one really cares about Africa anyway (walks away)

Me: (walks away)

I hop on the school bus, read my last name to the bus driver twice for good measure, knowing that it would take approximately one weekend for it to return to the hands of verbal bastardization, and it would take approximately one more year for my name to be further bastardized again on stage as I spoke for my class and collected my diploma. I take a seat at the back, and stare at the lights and signs outside my window. I would give anything for a fucking safari right now.

FIN.