In the labyrinthine corridors of “The Lords of Poverty,” a disturbing reality unfolded, one that would change my perception of international aid forever. As an immigrant striving to make a difference, I proposed an idea to streamline our operations, inadvertently causing the redundancy of my own job. They offered me a new position under a team lead named B, renowned for his fundraising prowess and supposed expertise on Africa, where he had once been a missionary. Little did I know, this encounter would reveal the dark underbelly of an organization funded by our tax dollars.
A Question That Should Never Have Been Asked
One day, B approached me in an empty hallway, his presence suffocating and cornering me in an unspoken dominance. With an air of condescension, he asked, “Robert, how do Africans do courtship?” The question, laced with ignorance and prejudice, left me speechless.
I was at a loss for words, as often happens when faced with a question for which I have no ready answer. My hesitation must have been palpable because B walked away without pressing further. Despite being among the top 5% in English comprehension among skilled immigrants to Canada—proven by a random test I took within two months of arriving—B’s question baffled me. It wasn’t that I didn’t understand the word “courtship”; it was the sheer ignorance behind the question that confounded me.
The Ignorance and Arrogance of Uniform Assumptions
Firstly, it is sheer folly, or perhaps deliberate ignorance, to assume that there is a singular, monolithic way that Africans court. Africa is a vast continent with a rich tapestry of cultures, each with its unique traditions. B’s question revealed a simplistic and offensive worldview.
Secondly, traditional courtship practices within African communities, like the Kikuyu, were systematically dismantled by the likes of B. These so-called missionaries and experts saw Africans as defective Europeans, imposing their norms and destroying the social bonds that held our societies together. They replaced our traditions with a void, leading to a breakdown in the community structures that once protected children, nurtured families, and cared for the elders.
A Second Encounter and the Sting of Dehumanization
After our encounter, I quickly dismissed the incident, thinking B might have had a genuine desire to understand. I was wrong. Some time later, B cornered me again, this time with a smug certainty. In a low voice, dripping with condescension and with a sneer on his face, he declared he already knew how Africans courted. According to him, a young African man would sleep with different girls and only marry the one who gave him the “best sex.” He claimed that two men he had converted from their sinful ways to had confessed this to him.
The grotesque caricature bore no resemblance to anyone I knew. It was a painful reminder that the people I worked with, who were funded by my tax dollars, held such contemptuous and dehumanizing views of black people. This wasn’t an isolated incident but part of a broader, pernicious narrative that dehumanizes black Canadians and Africans alike.
This blatant dehumanization and reduction of a rich and diverse culture to a sordid stereotype were deeply insulting and hurtful.
The Real Impact of Aid
B’s narrative wasn’t just an ignorant misunderstanding; it was a deliberate and harmful distortion. It’s this very distortion that attracts the dollars. He shared this fallacy with friends, family, and potential donors, spreading a dehumanizing image of Africans. This behavior highlights a deeper issue: how international aid can become a vehicle for prejudice and dehumanization, all funded by the tax dollars of well-meaning Canadians.
The dehumanization didn’t stop with B’s comments. It permeated the organization, coloring interactions and shaping policies. This toxic environment affected not only how Africans were viewed but also how aid was administered. Instead of empowering and respecting the communities they aimed to help, these aid agencies often stripped them of their dignity, portraying them as helpless and incapable.
International aid, when executed with ignorance and prejudice, becomes a double-edged sword. It not only fails to address the root causes of poverty but also perpetuates harmful stereotypes that dehumanize entire populations. Canadians, whose tax dollars fund these initiatives, are often unaware of the damaging narratives being propagated in their name, overseas and at home.
A Personal Betrayal
Discovering that my tax dollars were fueling such ignorance and prejudice hit me like a ton of bricks. This wasn’t just about one misguided question; it was about an entire system that stripped away the dignity of both Africans and black Canadians. The funds meant to uplift and support were instead being used to perpetuate harmful narratives and entrench systemic discrimination.
To end, i borrow a quote from Mutuma Mathiu, a Kenyan journalist:
“The application of Western religion and thought has not helped Africa to create healthy and stable social structures, from the family all the way up to the nation-state.”
