WHAT’S IN A BIRTHPLACE? – PART 1

Whenever I tell friends and relatives of my plan to visit Nigeria, some ask me why – as if I need a reason to visit a country in which my father gave me the most important lessons about life and love of country years before he made the transition to the world beyond.  “It does not matter to me where you choose to settle and spend the rest of your life”, he once told me. “It will not bother me where you choose to marry from”, he continued, “all I want is that you always remember that Nigeria is the land of your birth, and it is home.  I want you to know that God in His infinite wisdom put rivers on lands where he knew His water would be safe.  Perhaps that’s the reason He ordained that you would be born in Nigeria”. 

In retrospect, I did not understand the deeper meaning of any of my father’s statements but I thought I did.  It took decades to get here but I believe that I now know what it all means.  It means that however beautiful and comfortable another town or country may be or feel, there is a reason why one’s birthplace would be the one chosen by the omniscient God and, while one may never know what that reason was, it behoves a person to regard that birthplace with some sense of reverence, respect and responsibility. 

Quite recently, I spent a week in Nigeria, the country that I have always been proud to call the land of my birth.  The headline occasion was my niece’s wedding.  However, I accepted the opportunity to also address a very large group of Law students at Delta State University.  As I took the stage and spoke, I could sense in the students a high amount of respect, a remarkable yearning for knowledge, and strong sense of gratitude to a man who was introduced (and they obviously perceived) as a son of Nigeria who went abroad and made good but could also have greatly succeeded in Nigeria where he obtained his undergraduate degree.  As I received their standing ovation and then listened to a “vote of thanks” presented to me by the designated student at the end of the session, I could almost hear my father’s voice reminding me that I was born in Nigeria for a reason.  I could almost hear him tell me that there was a reason why I was standing on that podium; and I could almost hear him remind me of my responsibilities to the land of my birth.  At the same time, I wondered if the students in front of me truly understood the magnitude of their good fortune to have had the renowned Professor Badaiki, who is one of Africa’s leading scholars in Constitutional Law, arrange this opportunity for them to interact with me on that day.  Did they know how fortunate they are to be in school in an age where so much knowledge is at the finger tips of the willing student?  Did they know that they also have a responsibility to their nation?  Would they be willing to do the selfless work that is needed to transform their society and provide hope to generations that come behind them? I do not know the answer to any of these questions but I told them that the future of Nigeria’s people and democracy hangs on their willingness to serve professionally, honestly, sincerely, generously and selflessly; and their ability to always choose truth and justice with courage.

No less than 90% of the questions that the students asked me were about race, racism and social justice in the United States.  One student asked me: “How can anyone be sure that racism has not permeated your justice system in the United States to the point where black people should never expect justice to be fair”? Another asked: “Why was the white boy who killed nine black people in a church in South Carolina get treated as a king when he was being arrested?  We know that he would definitely have been killed had he been black”.  That question was immediately followed by another one: “Why did the judge in whose court the murderer of those nine black Christians was arraigned last week say that the family of the killer should also be seen as victims in the same way as the families of the nine murdered people”? “Why do white police officers always kill black people in the US”?, another asked.  “Would you please explain to us the human factors that you perceive in the American jury system”? Why…”?  “Why…?”  “Why…”?

On this day in Nigeria, I discussed with the students the role of power in policing and reminded them that the three of the police officers indicted for the murder of Mr. Gray in Baltimore were black.  I informed them that, relative to much of Europe and even India, the United States is a young country but the difference between the US and others is our acknowledgment that not only are we not a perfect nation, our journey to a less porous union is one that is often made longer every time police officers and racists act in ways to which the students were alluding.  I requested them to mention any racially heterogeneous country in the world in which racial integration has occurred as well as it so far has in in the United States.  After a few moments of deep thinking, the word “None” coming from many lips echoed through the packed auditorium.  In answering the questions that I was asked, I was reminded of three things: First, that people around the world know a lot more about the United States and Americans than Americans do about the world.  Second, thanks to technology, the claim that the world is now one global village is not an overstatement.  Third, that even in my birthplace, I am not only seen through multiple lenses but I also have a responsibility to uphold the best values of my adopted country.