I agree. Yorubas are the kindest, most large hearted and best Nigerians.
I had a light-hearted encounter with elite Yoruba prejudice against Ndígbo yesterday.
I went to the Ministry of Lands at Ikeja to sort out issues with a land allocation for a client. I met a very pleasant Scheme Officer, who sorted out the matter in about 10 minutes. It had been a headache to the client for close to 20 years. The problem turned out to be that the allocation letter stated wrong particulars of the land. The Scheme Officer checked the name in her computer, jettisoning the allocation letter, and, voila, the name popped out with the correct allocation details.
It now came to the little matter of finance. She looked at me and said ” lawyer, your file is empty, you have accumulated charges”. I replied that I expected that to be so. She said, “lawyer, you don’t know what I mean. We are going to convert your accumulated charges to the current rate”. I said jocularly, “please don’t apply TULUMBU rate o”.
That was where it started. She looked up at me and closed the file. All along our conversation had been in English and Yoruba, moving from one to the other seamlessly. My flawless Yoruba had made her presume I was Yoruba. She asked, her face somewhat serious, “what did you just say? You are not Yoruba. Where are you from?” Yours truly became very much scared.
I asked myself whether I had messed up what had just seemed like a miracle of 20 years. However, I chose to brave it up. I chose my usual reply to such questions in Lagos. I told her I was a Lagosian. She countered that I couldn’t be a Lagosian considering what I just said. I told her it was a joke and that I meant to say “Tinubu”. She was unmoved and would not quit the inquisition. I was like, “I don enter today”. I insisted that I was a Lagosian. I told her where I grew up and schooled here in Lagos. I had played this card so many times in the past. I knew the inquisition would not stop until I pointed at my great great grandfather’s “Iga” in Lagos, which, of course, he didn’t have. The face of this woman was kind and pleasant despite the inquisition. So, I told myself to cut to the chase. I told her my State and hometown.
Immediately, the whole office came alive. Her staff, who were in the ante room and had been listening intently in on our conversation, all joined in. One came over and said that if she were the President of Nigeria or even the Governor of Lagos State, she would send all Ndígbo away from Lagos. I countered, as I usually do, that 40% of the revenue of Lagos State would leave with the Igbos. They went back to the old routine of how grateful Ndígbo should be for the large heartedness of Yorubas. They were so solid in their belief that non-Igbos are not welcome in Igbo land and that Igbos don’t sell land to non-indigenes. Nothing I said or could say could move them.
I looked at the young lawyer, a Yoruba, that accompanied me. I said to him, “it doesn’t seem we can win this battle”. He agreed, shaking his head. I asked for an adjournment of the debate. To my relief, everyone agreed that we should return to the official business.
They processed the allocation for me subject to payment of the charges, which they calculated to some tidy millions. The madam looked at me again, and said “lawyer, you see what I mean?” Looking down at the totals at the bottom of the print out, my jaw dropped. However, I immediately remembered that I had to have the last word on this Yoruba/Ndigbo battle. I looked up at them and kept as bold a face as I could under the heavy reality of the bills and said “you forget that I am an Odogwu. This is chicken change to me”. Everyone one chorused “money na water”.
I learned a lot from the episode. We take this issue of racial prejudice too seriously. The land allocation that I processed was to an Igbo man. Nobody was concerned with that. It was a matter of the rules. Everyone was pleasant. The atmosphere was friendly and warm. So, I have come to a conclusion. I am not going to argue with Yorubas again. No telling then again how my mother laboured in Lagos to educate many of them and was appointed into the Schools Management Board for her industry. No telling them all the taxes that I pay. No telling them how much I contribute to their vat earnings and the large revenue that they boast of.
They say, we should be grateful for all the good they have done to us – all the good is from them to us, never the other way round. I agree. Let them forgive Ndigbo all their sins and continue to be good to them. I surrender. Eko onibaje o. Ka ọgụ bie – may the war end
By Chuks Nwachuku, legal practitioner and leadership and good governance advocate. [email protected]
