When my grandparents were born, their arrival into this world was marked by a simple, yet profound ritual. There were no baby showers laden with gifts and cash; instead, the new mother, my great-grandmother, would be surrounded by women from the neighborhood, there to assist in the delivery. These women, who we might now call midwives, played a crucial role. Once the baby was born and its gender determined, the women would make a celebratory sound called “ngemi.” Twice for a girl, four times for a boy. Contrast this with the birth of my own children, who were greeted not by tradition, but by a hospital bill.
In just a generation, we have shifted from a life where cash was irrelevant, to a world where cash reigns supreme. To get that cash, we often have to sell something to a Eurocentric world, usually raw materials, which barely cover our expenses. To make up the shortfall, African governments resort to begging and borrowing—beggrowing—from the rest of the world. This has been the story for decades. I recall in the 80s, whenever the Kenyan Minister of Finance had an appointment in Washington, it was front-page news. Today, the narrative remains the same but with some notable changes.
The first is subtle: it’s no longer just the ministers who go on beggrowing missions, but the presidents themselves, a sign of the increasing desperation. These missions are no longer limited to Washington D.C.; they are global. Our leaders trot from west to east, north to south, beggrowing.
The second change is more significant and has everyone talking. Africans have noticed that their leaders live lavishly, enjoying the spoils of their beggrowing trips. Like sheep following a shepherd, ordinary Africans have decided to emulate them. They may not afford private jets, business class, or presidential suites, but with the help of family, friends, and by selling family assets, they scrape together enough for an economy ticket. But woe unto them, obtaining a visa to any Eurocentric country is often harder than getting water from a stone. I should know—I am one of them.
As if to add insult to injury and death, to the Africans dismay, they are now increasingly not welcome anywhere, except perhaps in Rwanda and Kenya.
I wasn’t always a wannabe European. Up until my children were born, I never considered leaving my country except for short trips if the opportunity arose. But things changed. I noticed that the best jobs went to those with Eurocentric educations, often the children of the well-to-do. I began to think I wanted the same for my children.
During my first trip to Europe, I went to Belgium and was impressed by the order and productivity of the people. One thing stood out: in the four weeks I was there, I never had to brush my shoes. There was no dust. Hard to believe.
I like order, a clean environment, great education for my kids, and opportunities for amazing careers in fields like aerospace, biotechnology, finance, agriculture, and research. A family friend informed us that Canada accepts skilled immigrants. I visited their website to learn more. Between my wife and me, the skilled part was a no-brainer, but the process came with a high price and the risk of losing the application fee. Confident in our abilities, we gathered our documents and paid the processing fee. For two years, we waited, our lives on hold, selling everything to raise the settlement fee and fight tickets for the four of us.
We arrived in Canada as skilled immigrants, but recently I’ve begun to rethink that status. I’ve been informed by a Nigerian lawyer and human rights advocate that Africans are not merely migrating; they are fleeing, risking everything, including their lives, for the hope of a better life in any Eurocentric country.
So, why are we fleeing?
The answer lies in the stark contrast between our values and those we aspire to adopt. In my homeland, we cherish community, tradition, and a slower pace of life. But in the modern world, particularly in Eurocentric countries, success is measured by different metrics: individual achievement, material wealth, and the ability to provide a certain standard of living for one’s family.
Adapting to Canadian values does not mean abandoning our roots. It means integrating the best of both worlds. We can keep our rich traditions alive while embracing the opportunities that come with living in a developed country. We must learn to value order, education, and the rule of law. We must adapt to a society that values punctuality, cleanliness, and productivity.
Adapting is not about losing ourselves; it’s about evolving. It’s about running away from the mountain of old limitations and climbing the mountain of new possibilities. We owe it to ourselves and our children to strive for a life that marries our rich heritage with the promise of a brighter future.
In the end, fleeing is not about fear. It’s about hope. It’s about the dream of a better life, where we are not defined by the scarcity of our resources but by the abundance of our potential. So, we run from the mountain, not because we fear it, but because we believe in the promise that lies beyond it.
