My thought evolution about being black and African has taken quite a ride. I have always been a proud African, not much of a patriot of my country, and a firm believer in following your dreams, no matter where it takes you. By traveling away from my home, I have learned the value of what I call the 'other perspective', and a deeper appreciation for who/where/what I am, It has increased the respect I have for all those who had to venture far away from what they call home, to make a living. Refugees, immigrants etc.
Surprisingly however, I have come to love my motherland more now than I ever did before, even though I work and live on shores which are far more advanced and with so much more opportunity. I suppose I can ascribe that to the classic cow not knowing the use of its tail till its cut off allegory. But in searching myself and discussing with others of like background, I have come to an appreciation that is not just nostalgia for home - There is something more to it, something deeper.
Yes, I miss the food, and the community of people with similar values. And yes I fully appreciate our cultural heritage and diversity because now I have a point of reference and can make more informed comparison with more nations and peoples, other than from the perceptions I grew up with, watched on TV and read in books. As most people in the Diaspora will tell you, it is not all thornless roses on the other side of the lawn. There is more opportunity to make a living, but that living is typically a struggle day by day,with hand-to-mouth, bills and credit. There is of course the very tangible glass ceiling of opportunity, belonging and ambition that almost always lingers as a foreigner, no matter how many times you tote the flag and sing the Star Sprangled Banner - Our accents and allegiance might change, but our essence remains.
I have finally come to the conclusion that 'Love for Land' is a real thing. This is what makes Americans fight in wars all over the world, and what makes Britons die for Queen and country. It is the idea, the 'urge and itch' of Belonging and Knowing. Of affirming and coveting that unique set of values and memories that make your part of the world unique. Of feeling like you own a stake in this country/region, no matter what its status quo may be, and most times, in spite of the aptitude of the governments in charge, It is the realisation that no matter your achievements anywhere else in life, moving the needle or making any difference whatsoever, in any small way back home comes with an unparalleled sense of fulfilment, unlike anything else you might feel or achieved. An 'ache' to make something happen, or to improve the odds for those of your kin. It might be a need to implement things you have seen from the 'other perspective' you now inhabit. Or just the realisation that your contributions and legacy to this world might have so much meaning when applied to where you come from due to the opportunity, promise and potential you see of, and from it.
Surprisingly however, I have come to love my motherland more now than I ever did before, even though I work and live on shores which are far more advanced and with so much more opportunity. I suppose I can ascribe that to the classic cow not knowing the use of its tail till its cut off allegory. But in searching myself and discussing with others of like background, I have come to an appreciation that is not just nostalgia for home - There is something more to it, something deeper.
Yes, I miss the food, and the community of people with similar values. And yes I fully appreciate our cultural heritage and diversity because now I have a point of reference and can make more informed comparison with more nations and peoples, other than from the perceptions I grew up with, watched on TV and read in books. As most people in the Diaspora will tell you, it is not all thornless roses on the other side of the lawn. There is more opportunity to make a living, but that living is typically a struggle day by day,with hand-to-mouth, bills and credit. There is of course the very tangible glass ceiling of opportunity, belonging and ambition that almost always lingers as a foreigner, no matter how many times you tote the flag and sing the Star Sprangled Banner - Our accents and allegiance might change, but our essence remains.
I have finally come to the conclusion that 'Love for Land' is a real thing. This is what makes Americans fight in wars all over the world, and what makes Britons die for Queen and country. It is the idea, the 'urge and itch' of Belonging and Knowing. Of affirming and coveting that unique set of values and memories that make your part of the world unique. Of feeling like you own a stake in this country/region, no matter what its status quo may be, and most times, in spite of the aptitude of the governments in charge, It is the realisation that no matter your achievements anywhere else in life, moving the needle or making any difference whatsoever, in any small way back home comes with an unparalleled sense of fulfilment, unlike anything else you might feel or achieved. An 'ache' to make something happen, or to improve the odds for those of your kin. It might be a need to implement things you have seen from the 'other perspective' you now inhabit. Or just the realisation that your contributions and legacy to this world might have so much meaning when applied to where you come from due to the opportunity, promise and potential you see of, and from it.
However this manifests itself, its presence can hardly be denied. This realisation led me to want to evangelise about this deeper feeling and meaning of being an African, a Cameroonian. To make all Africans in the diaspora see what I see and be proud of their Africanness, while rising to the challenges, creating new paradigms and challenging the prevalent stereotypes. My purpose for a long while had been to make others 'catch the fire', and be released from the 'whitewashing' mentality of the western world being the only 'IT' place; hoping they could bring to their homeland, what they have come to appreciate and love in the present stations. I was moved to pontificate about the duty to 'Do Something'. It gave me a new zeal to persuasively preach about our Home, Our motherland - Mboa-su! .
That 'all or nothing' approach has gotten me into heated arguments, disagreements and obscured the real essence to my message with not only friends, and acquaintances from all over Africa, but also people back home who thought it a little condescending of sorts. The intention might have be good, but the execution of the rallying call was sorely lacking in empathy and perspective.
The learnings of that 'John the Baptist' phase in my life have left me with a few learnings, some of the more recurrent ones being that - Not everyone feels the way I do. The aspirations they had for themselves is what they have fully attained, and that is good enough for them. The opportunity to do, and be compensated for one's work, while provide for family and loved ones, trumps the motivations of identity and heritage, however noble. In other words - they have arrived! I still do not share this worldview from fellow immigrants and Africans in particular, but I have come to make my peace with it.
Secondly, some people rightfully think they owe their homelands nothing, given how much it took away from them. Lack of opportunity, wars, strife, persecution etc. And that hurt which still lingers, determines their outlook as much as any achievements they might have, or goodwill they might harbour for where they come from. This I empathize with, as I too hold no admiration for my nation's government,leaders, or feel I owe them anything.
However, what stood our to me is that no matter what most people might feel about topic, that feeling of attachment, belonging and heritage to 'Home' never fully goes away, no matter your sentiments towards the nation that houses Home. It is typically just diminished enough to obviate the need for any kind of spur to action. More importantly, I accepted the fact that no one preached me into it - I felt the urge or itch, re-connected and that left in me the burning need to do something for Home.
So an evangelist in words I ceased to be. And an evangelist in action I have now become. My fulfilment maybe tied to the debt I feel for home, but my identity isn't. With my present understanding, has come the clarity that not everyone has to be a doer, nor is every immigrant needed in achieving the potential that Home has, as those that are needed will react - 'the world will unfold as it should!', says the "Desiderata'. It is said that action speaks louder than words and that I have come to agree with completely. I am happy that in my evangelistic stage, I did help change some minds, but I am almost certain that if I just do my part, however small it is, I'll make more noise and turn more heads than I ever could, preaching from the mountaintop. Besides, even Jesus had to heal the blind and build tents - what more then, from a mere mortal like myself ?
SoP
From 10Km on high.
15/1/16
SoP
From 10Km on high.
15/1/16
