Serendipity

brownisbeautiful:

atane:

This post was inspired by a recent conversation I had with b-sama. It started off about the growing numbers of African women who are nurses abroad, their relationships and the African men who want them primarily because they are nurses. I can’t speak on authority about this because although I’ve noticed the growing number of African female nurses in the US for example, I never really knew that some African men sought them out because of that. Of course, I don’t know what’s going on in every African community, and I’m not trying to paint a broad brush by saying it’s like this everywhere.
I can however speak about Nigerian communities, or the upwardly mobile, educated and professional Nigerians who are live abroad and the matter of dating. It’s a funny subject, because once you reach a certain age (late 20s), there is this expectation of marriage. Yoruba, Igbo, Edo, Ijaw, Ibibio, Efik, whatever you are, most of our parents all have the same mentality and expectation. You’re supposed to go to school, become something prestigious and awesome (lawyer, doctor, engineer, finance gig or something along those lines) and then get married and have a family. Like there’s a schedule. The expectation all comes from a good place, so it doesn’t really bother me much. I actually find it kind of funny to be frank. It just seems like there is so much emphasis on professional qualifications, credentials and titles.
Nothing pleases a Nigerian parent more than their child saying they’re going for their MBA. The only thing better is telling them you’re going for a PhD. You can come home and say “Mommy, Daddy, I just saved a bunch of children from an orphanage that burst into flames. I ran in and pulled them out individually. The mayor wants to give me a hero’s plaque and the key to the city!” and they’ll be like “Oh, that’s good.” But tell them you got accepted into an MBA program and it’s “Oh my child! Wonderful! God is good! I knew you could do it. When you finish your masters, what will your PhD be in? Hurry up and do it, you’re not getting any younger. When are you getting married? When your granny was your age in the village, she already bore 9 children, and had to fetch water in a bucket every morning so all the kids could baff. Then she made breakfast for everyone. She did all this before sun up. She still had time to go to the University in the city far from the village. She was a triple major in nuclear physics, international law and cooking. Why are you so lazy? Do you remember little Emeka? Mr. Chimadi’s son? Well, he’s in Harvard now studying to be the first Nigerian to simultaneously earn 3 PhDs, he already has a PhD from Yale in molecular underwater basket weaving. In his spare time, he delivers babies.”
Alright, I might have embellished a little, but education is important. Nigerians love school. Don’t take my word for it, look at this. That old Nigerian security guard you know is probably in night school somewhere, working on an Associates, so he can transfer to a 4 year college. Education is a good thing, but it often finds its way into your dating life, and sometimes impacts it negatively. I’ve seen it happen. If you have Nigerian parents that aren’t overbearing, then consider yourself lucky. You hit the jackpot. By a certain age, they want to play matchmaker if things aren’t moving according to their schedule. Yes, your life is on their schedule. They seem to know all the eligible bachelors and bachelorettes. They’ll say something like “Remember Ngozi? She’s in law school now. She comes from a good family. Her dad is Dr. Amaechi. You don’t remember him? He visited us that time when you were a baby! (they expect you to remember people you haven’t seen since you were a toddler) Maybe you should introduce yourself the next time Ngozi comes around.” wink, wink, nudge, nudge. So that’s it, her future profession qualifies her to be a potential life partner, and vice versa. That’s it! hahaI’d like to think younger Nigerians don’t think that way, but they do. We are younger versions of our parents. If you are a creative (artist, painter, writer, social media person etc), have you ever endured spending a large amount of time around a group of young professional Nigerians? It’s unbearable. It usually goes like this “So you’re a writer? What do you do, just write things? Like letters? When are you getting a real job?” or “You’re an artist. You draw? What kind of job is that? That probably doesn’t pay well.” It’s almost like they have become their careers and titles. Don’t you dare address a doctor as Mr. or Mrs. by accident. If they are lawyers, all their magazine subscriptions will be addressed to ‘Esquire’ or ‘Esq’.
Short blurb on me, immediately after college, I worked in finance, was preparing for the GMATs, doing everything expected of me, until I realized it wasn’t what I wanted to do. I sat down with my folks and told them I was jumping ship. I have supportive parents, so it was cool for the most part, although I know they would have preferred me to stay with that career path. My mom still drops hints about me going back to school. Oddly enough, most of the problems were with my peers, other “professionals”. They couldn’t understand why I would be walking away from a sure thing. Eventually the GF at the time got upset, despite initially being supportive. I don’t blame her, that’s how she was raised. We were all raised to cherish education above anything else, including your dreams. Unless your dream was to become a doctor or a lawyer. I’m not so sure if that’s a great thing. Such is the path of a Nigerian. C’est la vie.
I’ve rambled enough.

I appreciate this so much! I know for a fact my parents are vexed at my educational path, or lack thereof, but I also know they’re not wrong, which makes it all the more difficult to have faith in the path I’ve chosen. I also know of Nigerian peers who have crashed and burned midway through undergrad or graduate school for various reasons. I ALSO know of plenty Nigerian peers who have jumped through the hoops and truly enjoyed it.
So complex this Nigerian identity. So deliciously complex.

atane:

This post was inspired by a recent conversation I had with b-sama. It started off about the growing numbers of African women who are nurses abroad, their relationships and the African men who want them primarily because they are nurses. I can’t speak on authority about this because although I’ve noticed the growing number of African female nurses in the US for example, I never really knew that some African men sought them out because of that. Of course, I don’t know what’s going on in every African community, and I’m not trying to paint a broad brush by saying it’s like this everywhere.

I can however speak about Nigerian communities, or the upwardly mobile, educated and professional Nigerians who are live abroad and the matter of dating. It’s a funny subject, because once you reach a certain age (late 20s), there is this expectation of marriage. Yoruba, Igbo, Edo, Ijaw, Ibibio, Efik, whatever you are, most of our parents all have the same mentality and expectation. You’re supposed to go to school, become something prestigious and awesome (lawyer, doctor, engineer, finance gig or something along those lines) and then get married and have a family. Like there’s a schedule. The expectation all comes from a good place, so it doesn’t really bother me much. I actually find it kind of funny to be frank. It just seems like there is so much emphasis on professional qualifications, credentials and titles.

Nothing pleases a Nigerian parent more than their child saying they’re going for their MBA. The only thing better is telling them you’re going for a PhD. You can come home and say “Mommy, Daddy, I just saved a bunch of children from an orphanage that burst into flames. I ran in and pulled them out individually. The mayor wants to give me a hero’s plaque and the key to the city!” and they’ll be like “Oh, that’s good.” But tell them you got accepted into an MBA program and it’s “Oh my child! Wonderful! God is good! I knew you could do it. When you finish your masters, what will your PhD be in? Hurry up and do it, you’re not getting any younger. When are you getting married? When your granny was your age in the village, she already bore 9 children, and had to fetch water in a bucket every morning so all the kids could baff. Then she made breakfast for everyone. She did all this before sun up. She still had time to go to the University in the city far from the village. She was a triple major in nuclear physics, international law and cooking. Why are you so lazy? Do you remember little Emeka? Mr. Chimadi’s son? Well, he’s in Harvard now studying to be the first Nigerian to simultaneously earn 3 PhDs, he already has a PhD from Yale in molecular underwater basket weaving. In his spare time, he delivers babies.”

Alright, I might have embellished a little, but education is important. Nigerians love school. Don’t take my word for it, look at this. That old Nigerian security guard you know is probably in night school somewhere, working on an Associates, so he can transfer to a 4 year college. Education is a good thing, but it often finds its way into your dating life, and sometimes impacts it negatively. I’ve seen it happen. If you have Nigerian parents that aren’t overbearing, then consider yourself lucky. You hit the jackpot. By a certain age, they want to play matchmaker if things aren’t moving according to their schedule. Yes, your life is on their schedule. They seem to know all the eligible bachelors and bachelorettes. They’ll say something like “Remember Ngozi? She’s in law school now. She comes from a good family. Her dad is Dr. Amaechi. You don’t remember him? He visited us that time when you were a baby! (they expect you to remember people you haven’t seen since you were a toddler) Maybe you should introduce yourself the next time Ngozi comes around.” wink, wink, nudge, nudge. So that’s it, her future profession qualifies her to be a potential life partner, and vice versa. That’s it! haha

I’d like to think younger Nigerians don’t think that way, but they do. We are younger versions of our parents. If you are a creative (artist, painter, writer, social media person etc), have you ever endured spending a large amount of time around a group of young professional Nigerians? It’s unbearable. It usually goes like this “So you’re a writer? What do you do, just write things? Like letters? When are you getting a real job?” or “You’re an artist. You draw? What kind of job is that? That probably doesn’t pay well.” It’s almost like they have become their careers and titles. Don’t you dare address a doctor as Mr. or Mrs. by accident. If they are lawyers, all their magazine subscriptions will be addressed to ‘Esquire’ or ‘Esq’.

Short blurb on me, immediately after college, I worked in finance, was preparing for the GMATs, doing everything expected of me, until I realized it wasn’t what I wanted to do. I sat down with my folks and told them I was jumping ship. I have supportive parents, so it was cool for the most part, although I know they would have preferred me to stay with that career path. My mom still drops hints about me going back to school. Oddly enough, most of the problems were with my peers, other “professionals”. They couldn’t understand why I would be walking away from a sure thing. Eventually the GF at the time got upset, despite initially being supportive. I don’t blame her, that’s how she was raised. We were all raised to cherish education above anything else, including your dreams. Unless your dream was to become a doctor or a lawyer. I’m not so sure if that’s a great thing. Such is the path of a Nigerian. C’est la vie.

I’ve rambled enough.

I appreciate this so much! I know for a fact my parents are vexed at my educational path, or lack thereof, but I also know they’re not wrong, which makes it all the more difficult to have faith in the path I’ve chosen. I also know of Nigerian peers who have crashed and burned midway through undergrad or graduate school for various reasons. I ALSO know of plenty Nigerian peers who have jumped through the hoops and truly enjoyed it.

So complex this Nigerian identity. So deliciously complex.