Nigeria Part I

Contrary to what the news would have you believe, Nigeria is NOT burning. While there is violence from the Islamic radical group Boko Haram and mass distrust of and frustration towards the national government in Abuja, the vast majority of Nigerians (I am fairly certain) are living normally. But we shall see. The expressed worry and concern that I've received in the past month from both family and friends is understandable and respected. After all, the day that I officially told my father of my trip just so happened to coincide with the organized mass bombing of a bus terminal in downtown Abuja that claimed the lives of 73 people and maimed hundreds more. A bad omen? I don't think so. In attempting to calm the nerves of loved ones and those close to me, I will regularly write about Nigeria both while I am there and before my trip. Consider this post to be the first of many.

Nigeria is a country as diverse as it is big. There are over 300 ethnic groups that make up the whole, many of them speaking vastly different languages and adhering to divergent traditional histories and practices. With this, of course, comes conflict, usually at the borderlands where ethnic, linguistic, and religious differences rub shoulder-to-shoulder. The physical border of modern-day Nigeria was drawn up by the colonial British. Disregarding the vast cultural and historical differences of the many African nations that made up "Nigeria", the English bunched Muslim Fulani and Hausa with Christian and animist Igbo and Yoruba into one "nation state" (only to name the largest 4 of Nigeria's aforementioned 300 ETHNIC GROUPS!). Consequently, there are multiple cleavages that run the length of the Nigerian state, none stronger than the North-South axis, which splits the predominately Muslim north from the Christian south. While many of you watching the news might find the recent Boko Haram violence as another manifestation of the 21st Century "War on Terror," the reality is much different.

Prior to English "Indirect Rule" in Africa, there were powerful African kingdoms that engaged in their own continental and international trade. Often, these groups developed complicated internal trading networks, where they exchanged a diverse array of goods from gold and salt to kola nuts and slaves. In so doing, cross-cultural exchanges were common. Languages mixed, religions spread, and people (inevitably) slept with each other. The Muslim traders from the north of Africa influenced this region greatly. Because of their emphasis on literacy, education, and an adeptness in trading, many Africans began to follow and practice Islam. They established some of the worlds greatest learning centers, libraries, and cities (Timbuktu being one). One such political empire was known as the Sokoto Calphiate, which came to dominate the region of modern-day northern Nigeria at the beginning of the nineteenth century. There, the Hausa and Fulani people were united under a religious and civil authority that imbued the people with pride and power. This was destroyed with the coming of European colonialism. And in some sense, the fight to regain this independence has never left the northern ethnic groups. Boko Haram, contrary to being just another "crazy radical group" (which they are for sure) is not just a cheap manifestation of Al Qaida; they believe they are a people attempting to  reclaim a past heritage and history that for the past 200 years has been ignored. There is no "Nigeria" to them. It is a made up concept imposed upon them by a foreign power. Destroying the nation state of Nigeria isn't their goal. They answer to their own worldview and their own version of their history. In some sense, it makes the problem of Boko Haram much more difficult to solve. Instead of chalking the conflict up as simply crazy Islamists (they are crazy) or another "African stick war," we westerners should see that the problems of Nigeria (and much of Africa for that matter) are not a consequence of African backwardness, but of a history of economic and cultural oppression....ahem...good job white guys...ahem.

Sorry for the long history lesson, but it's part of understanding why I am still willing to go. In this story fit the people I will be living among for six weeks, The Igbo. The Igbo are one of the largest of Nigeria's ethnic groups. The language they speak is called Igbo. Many of you who are old enough probably remember the Igbo as being the ones who fought a brutal civil war in Nigeria from 1968-1970. In an attempt to right what they saw as abuse and oppression from the northern-controlled Nigerian government, they founded their own state known as the The Republic of Biafra. Throughout the course of the fighting, over 2 million Igbos died in a brutal campaign of starvation and warfare. The Yorbua-northern-controlled federal government of Nigeria resented the Igbo's attempt to form their own state and implemented a planned action of mass starvation. A vast majority of those killed were children and women. It was because of this planned government action of starvation that led the United States, under President Nixon, to declare genocide. The limited resources of the Republic of Biafra and rampant malnutrition and suffering brought the war to an end. But the memories of the fighting and death are still very much alive in the Igbo homeland of southeastern Nigeria. The famed writer Chinua Achebe is Igbo and many of his works and poetry deal with his observations throughout the war. In all honesty, I am really looking forward to exploring the ways in which a people survive and move on (or don't) from such a terrible tragedy. The town I will be staying in is called New Owerri, which was one of the last strongholds of the Republic of Biafran Army. Over the course of my trip preparations, I have spoken with my professor Dr. Chima Korieh from Marquette who has mentioned many times that every person he knows has had someone close die from the war.

While many of you might worry for my safety with the whole Boko Haram craziness, I want to attempt an assurance: I will be more than 2,000 miles away from the Fulani/Hausa homeland where Boko Haram is most powerful. Not only is Nigeria the 7th most-populous nation on earth, but it is literally the size of two Californias. I will be in the tropical belt of the country closest to the ocean and the famed Niger Delta. Those of you who don't know anything about the Niger Delta should learn quickly. Aside from being a cultural and historical powerhouse on the African continent, Nigeria also serves as the 4th largest exporter of oil to the United States, with BP and Shell being the two main international companies working (I mean, exploiting) the oil fields in the delta. Notoriously greedy and corrupt, these two energy giants have siphoned away oil from underneath Nigeria's mangroves for over 50 years without any money going back into the local economy. Now, of course, some of this can be attributed to local and national political corruption, but nevertheless, the region with the 4th largest oil reserve on the planet doesn't have regular power or a functioning network of gas stations. Seems a little fishy to me. The people in the Niger Delta are desperate for better living conditions, schools, and want their environment to be cleaned. Yet, the small people of this earth can't match the billions that go behind keeping Shell oil "cheap" for American and European consumers. All of us should think critically about the external "costs" of our cheap, comfortable lifestyles in America. I'm going to be seeing it for myself in about a month and I'm honestly terrified of what my personal reaction will be. Will I feel ashamed? Angry? Embarrassed? I know one thing for sure, however, I won't feel good.

Not all of this story is one of doom and gloom. I've given you "the bad" because that seems to be what most African stories consist of. That is a complete lie pushed by cheap media and garbage news programming. There is plenty of good and I will be writing about the natural and cultural splendor of Nigeria while I am there. I am enthralled with the idea of watching the sunset slowly slink under the horizon, casting its magenta hues across the Bight of Biafra. I anxiously look forward to a night in a bar, listening to the pulsing primal beats of African drumming. I want to hear the lively poetry and spoken song of the bewildering, tonally-inflected Igbo language. And I want to feel the energy of an African metropolis, like Lagos, crackle through my skin and bones.