08/05/13 Wednesday
Early days in this
foreign land shock when Nigerians address underlings with terse belittling. It
still does. Call it an up the side of the head reminder of who’s boss and who’s
not. Mental note then as now: do not go
there. But security guy Joe? He presses buttons. He’s wary of me after that
late-for-work, hopping-the-fence episode. Last night this perpetually sweaty
man keeps the generator running well past the shut-down hour. He’s been told when
to turn off the gen by Collins and reminded twice more. But nothing seems to
sink in. Grrrr. More frustratingly he keeps the gen running despite the fact
that NEPA comes back on. I only realize this when I go looking for him after shut-down
time has come and gone. What the…! How long has power been back on? What a foolish
waste of fuel.
In this sub-Saharan
country, hierarchical stratification thrives on socio-economic and academic
status (and yes, white skin). Those disadvantaged or less fortunate by happenstance
best buckle up and prepare for a lifelong ride of verbal abuse and mental
humiliation.
Is this a hangover
from the decades of slave trading? Of times when tribes cruelly turned on
neighbouring villagers for commercial exploit? Human trafficking remains an ugly issue here. Every
upper middle class household has “domestic help.” Typically these young women
and men come from impoverished villages. They’re not paid. By being subjected
to the lives of those with means, they’re meant to learn by example and to
aspire for the same. Sometimes their families (read owners) will fund their
education, if it pleases them. Christine and Tony, Ousman and Aishat all have
house people. Tony’s person is a young girl of maybe ten or twelve. We’re told
they’re family. I wonder.
I wonder too about people
like security guy Joe, driver Umoh and compound keeper Collins. I’ve heard them being “dissed” more times
than I can count. Collins talks often about how he’s a human being with blood
running through his body just like person X yet he’s treated without common
courtesy. Where's the respect?
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