Yesterday, I went to the University of Indianapolis for the Juneteenth celebration. This beautiful event featured the works of talented black creatives. And my friend Sam Onche was part of that bunch. I got a chance to see his work in person at the art exhibit. I gawked at how drawn people were to his pieces. I stood back and watched each individual admire and try to analyze his work. Words can’t express the pride I felt. While people admired the finished product, I couldn’t help but think about the inspiration and the work it took him to get there. This particular piece Colored Lines was created out of a really dark place. And I don’t mean this in reference to light and color. The audience gets to admire his greatness without seeing the trauma that Colored Lines was created from. At the exhibit, I realized that Sam is a microcosm of many Nigerian Immigrants.
We travel thousands of miles away from home. We move to a totally foreign country in search of a better present and hopeful future. We face numerous challenges, challenges that are often too difficult to speak of. And for that, I am deeply sad for us.
I am sad that we come from a country that does not care about the well-being of its citizens. A country where the leaders are more worried about the size of their pockets than the lives of their constituents. A country where the main qualification for leadership is greed. A country where leaders compete on who can make the country worse. And guess what, they outdo each other every single time. And for that, many Nigerians are moving away in search of greener pastures.
People often say the grass is greener where you water it. They say this as an opposition to the “grass is greener on the other side” rhetoric. But they often forget that soil plays a huge role in the growth of grass. I would know because I come from a country with tainted soil. The kind of soil that impedes growth and is toxic to the plants. Therefore, no amount of watering can make the grass greener. That is, the effort of the citizen are continuously in vain. So we leave. We migrate to countries where we can tap into our otherwise wasted potential.
I am sad for us because in many situations getting on the plane is the easiest part of the journey. Many soon come to realize that the manna we so seek requires years of wandering in the desert. There are simply not enough words to describe the obstacles that come with migration. But we wander and we plow through. Because you know “Naija no dey carry last”. And for that, I am proud of us.
I am proud because, like Sam, we consistently create light even when the darkness is overwhelming. I am proud of the Nigerian excellence that I am consistently surrounded with virtually and in person. The scholars, doctors, lawyers, creatives, athletes, etc.
I am proud of the ones working multiple jobs just to make ends meet.
I am proud of the ones who are still finding their bearings. The ones still navigating the immigrant struggles.
I am most especially proud of the ones that are simply existing and getting by because that in and of itself is commendable.
Be sad about the unfortunate circumstances. But be proud of where you’re at because I am.
Keep on keeping on. Keep mastering the art of making lemonade, because life seems to be in an endless supply of lemons.
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