I stared at him with ease. I was no more the little girl growing up in
the quiet Ughelli so it was easy. Besides I was sitting directly opposite him.
I tried to put my feelings into words- Cockiness, Confidence, Victorious, Strong,
Anger, and Pity. All these flowed through me as he spoke.
“Hmmn!
This Indian”, I thought to myself. “Just who did he think he was?”
Time
truly has passed. We live in a country where anyone in white skin was glorified
and treated with too much respect. I call it backward colonialism. I could not
understand why someone would rather than settle for the old colonial rule where
our roads were all tarred with sidewalks decide to glorify another mortal who would
disrespect you and ill treat you for nothing.
My
thoughts were formed early. Maybe because I still topped my class in spite of
the presence of white boy Richard or because I was used to seeing Kelvin, a
mixed blood, hawking tomatoes when my family eventually moved to Warri, I
simply did not see anything extra ordinary in being white that would allow for
first class treatment especially on my Nigerian soil.
I
do believe in respect. Anyone; white or black, deserved this. But when the
Indian wanted to take me for a ride I had to bare my fangs.
It
reminded me of the encounter I had with one of his kind in the penultimate
month where I had, in the line of work, gone to demand money owed. The man,
feeling superior, had refused to see me initially. Imagine the debtor; but I blame
am? The manner of people who give them rights in the street gave him the
audacity. When he saw I was having none of that, he came down and after all the
talk he felt sorry that this small girl (my apologies to my stature) was talking
to him like that.
Now
back to this one before me. He said my words sent him to his sick bed and that
if he dies I will be held responsible for his death. At that point I had to
control myself and not laugh out loud. My small size must really be deceiving
them.
In
case you are wondering what the bone of contention is, it was nothing out of a
routine as it applies to landlord and tenants in this city.
I
decided to shift from the contentious angle that he was in. So I asked him to
invest in Nigeria. He began to curse. He ended by saying he will never do that
even if a gun was put on his head. With that word I decided it was time to hit
the road and push this man out of my sight. I said my goodbyes and I was off.
As I journeyed down the road I could not help but think that I would never even
in neighbouring Benin Republic and act like I was a Don.
What
effrontery does this man have to speak all my ears heard?
My
Conclusion, we need a shift of values we must move to begin appreciating our
own even if it’s the man by the junction who owns little but makes an honest
living!
Keep
faith.
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