The Perils of a Single Story - Nigeria Edition

The Nigerian author Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie speaks about the danger of a single story in her now viral TED talk. It refers to a narrative that presents only one perspective, repeated again and again. She asserts that the danger of the 'single story' is that it can result in perspectives based on stereotypes.

When I found out I had to go to Nigeria on work, ironically, it was this stereotype shaped by the long shadow of the Nigerian Prince scam, the Boko Haram kidnappings, and the high crime rates of Lagos that played on my mind.?

My single story of Nigeria was informed by western media, pop culture references, and internet memes. It didn’t help that several well-meaning colleagues and friends warned me about muggings and asked me not to step out alone or after sunset. ?

I kept reminding myself that there has to be more to a country that produced Chimamanda, one of the most prolific storytellers of our generation, and Chinua Achebe, whose novel Things Fall Apart was a part of my English Literature curriculum in college and gave me my first glimpse into the misinterpreted narrative of Africa by Europeans.?

When my plane touched down in Abuja, the federal capital territory based in Northern Nigeria, I thought I was mentally prepared and had a very open mind, ready to capture the other ‘stories’ of Nigeria.?

Then I walked over to immigration and handed my passport to the officer. He was very friendly and asked me questions about Bollywood. And then proceeded to smile at me expectantly without handing back my passport. Surely, it was an urban legend that you are expected to slip in a 10 dollar bill into your passport when handing it to the immigration officer!

Nope. Not an urban legend.?

Officer: Oh you come from the land of Bollywood. You must give some uru to appreciate Bollywood fans like me in Nigeria.?

Me, thinking to myself : I haven’t lived in the land of Bollywood in 20 years. What on earth is uru? Is he really asking me for what I think he is asking??

Me, out loud: umm… I only have Singapore dollars.?

Officer (big smile) - That’s fine. We like all dollars!

Me, rifling through my hand bag hoping I had some cash...(who carries cash in 2023?)…finding SGD 10 buried deep inside and sighing in relief.?

Here you go, Sir.?

Officer (very big smile) - Welcome to Nigeria. I have given you one month stay and I recommend that you try our famous Jollof rice and Ogbono Soup.?

Side note - Uru is an Igbo (an ethnic Nigerian language) term for something that aids or promotes well being.?

Still reeling from the encounter (mostly amused) I went over to baggage claim and retrieved my bags. As I approached the customs officer, he asked me where I was coming from.?

Dubai.?

(Cue, big smile) - what did you bring for me from Dubai?

My inner voice - Oh come on dude! I’ve been on an 8 hour journey and I haven’t slept in 20 hours. And I am not about to hand you a 100 dollar bill (which is all I had left in cash).?

My outer voice - sorry sir. I’ve been down with the flu in dubai and didn’t get time to shop.(all true). cough cough?

He gave me a disappointed look but he let me go and I emerged into the muddy brown landscape of Abuja. It could have been any city in India.?

I’d arrived just a few weeks before their big national election so Abuja was a hive of activity. And, it turns out the day I arrived was the last day of the rollout of Nigerian central bank’s demonetisation initiative where high value bank notes were being replaced with new notes. I am very familiar with demonetisation. My home country of India implemented it in 2016 and even those of us who didn’t live in the country heard the horror stories.?

I arrived at a time when the entire country had run out of cash. There was complete chaos and anarchy everywhere. There were daily withdrawal limits of $45 at ATMs for individuals. My hotel (apparently the largest in Nigeria) had 5 ATM machines, each of which had a long line and several armed policemen for crowd control.?

As I crashed in bed that evening, exhausted mentally and physically, I wondered if the stereotype was true after all.?

Chimamanda’s voice echoed in my sleepy brain - “The single story creates stereotypes, and the problem with stereotypes is not that they are untrue, but that they are incomplete. They make one story become the only story.”

Fortunately, in the days that followed, I found the other stories in the many fascinating conversations with Nigerians from the North, the South, and the East. I heard the lyrical sounds of Hausa, Yoruba, and Igbo.?I learnt why Nigeria is called the Giant of Africa, a country full of diverse cultures. There are more than 500 ethnic groups each with its unique language and cultural practices. A country rooted in tradition but also making headway into the 21st century with a booming tech sector and a burgeoning youth population.?

A country of contrasts, much like my own. We gave the world Bollywood. Nigerians take pride in their Nollywood. (They are the second-largest film industry in the world today; there is even a MasterClass hosted by Jodie Foster about the Nigerian film industry.)

I discovered that Nigeria is the fashion, technological, and creative hub of Africa. I learnt that Nigerians are known for their boldness, resilience, and hard work.

And most importantly, I understood that the story of Nigeria is a sum of its many stories that are just waiting to be discovered