By Gloria Nelson
Michael, now a 300L student at the University of Ibadan, recalls carrying out one of the numerous compulsory registration processes in his first year. During one of these, there was a woman on duty, speaking in Yorùbá. As a person from Esan tribe of Edo state, this was a cultural shock. “I was lost at first but kept smiling to mask my confusion,” he says. “She spoke again to me and I mentioned that I didn’t understand what she was saying, citing that I wasn’t Yorùbá. She then turned and said that even though, I should be able to understand the language, saying that I had been in Ibadan for a year now. She went as far as making me an object of ridicule, saying that this is Ibadan and I need to speak the language, and she didn’t do this in a welcoming manner.”
But, must you, when in Rome, truly do as the Romans do?
With a population of over 200 million people from over 300 ethnic groups who speak approximately 520 languages, Nigeria is one of the world’s most culturally complex countries. Yet for most Nigerians, that diversity is more theoretical than practical — they exist in homogenous communities in the country’s vast landscape. The university is something else entirely. Unlike those communities, it is a space where people from different backgrounds and cultures collide — and all of a sudden, that theoretical diversity comes close as a coursemate. Lawal Eniola, another 300L UI student, “was a little surprised so many people came from so far away to school here.” Yet within this heterogeneity, students from non-dominant tribes navigate something others don’t.
For some, that collision is exactly what they came for. “My first week at the University of Ibadan exposed me to a diverse environment with people from different cultural backgrounds. I noticed differences in language, dressing, and social behavior. Although it was initially unfamiliar, I gradually adapted and developed a better understanding of the diversity around me.” Blessing John Amarachi, a 300L UI student, says. Sometimes, however, the collision descends into entropy. “It is first weird being in a university populated by the Yorùbás, they expect you to understand them, even knowing fully well that you aren’t from around here. Some even get angry and aggressive when you don’t understand the language and that is so annoying.” Ugiagbe Osarodion Kingsley, a 300L student at the University of Ibadan laments. For Akalo Ogheneyole John, a 500L student at UI from Isoko tribe, his first week was “crazy, it was like everyone understood each other but me, I felt lonely.”
The major barrier faced is “the language barrier”, Kole Oruwakor Frances, a 300L UI student from Edo state, identifies. “I would love to use the term “Stigma” – Especially when I go to the market and they notice that I can’t understand what they say. A lot of their attitudes change towards me in disgust. Going out become so burdensome because I get to face people who still have the delusion that everyone ought to speak and understand Yorùbá”, Kingsley says, and he is not alone. Brown Tamunobelema, from Kalabari, talks about her interactions with business people; “they automatically speak Yorùbá assuming everyone understands, then if they realize I don’t entirely understand them, they scam me.” The language barrier runs deeper when you’re a medical student. John says it has been challenging “not being able to understand patients who aren’t English speakers.”
Beyond not understanding others, there is also the challenge of not being ‘seen’. “No one really knows you or how it’s like for you. We are all judged from a similar standpoint”, Augustine Adurawunmi Okeyade, a 300L UI student, from the Egun tribe, points out. 500L medical student, Abang Emmanuel, complains of “always having to explain that Mbùbè is not part of Igbo.” Gbenedo Ufuoma Kharisma, a 300L student, says the hardest thing about being from Urhobo at UI is the pronunciation of her name. Chukwudalu Nnanyelugo, a 300L student, reveals something deeper, “The hardest thing about being an Igbo person especially an Igbo guy here is that almost everyone assumes that you have ulterior motives (i.e. you’re not straight forward and you keep looking for ways to take advantage of someone).”
How are minorities taking all this? “…What I name here, then, is not difficulty but otherness. A pathology less of burden than of belongingness. To belong to a minority tribe is to be cast, repeatedly, into the title of the ‘other’, and in some instances, into the more insidious designation of the “abnormal other.” says Makuochukwu ‘God’ Okigbo, an Igbo 500L UI student. To Bina Jesse Preye, a 500L UI student, even though his peers occasionally switch to Yorùbá midway through a conversation, “it’s not that deep, I’ll just ask what they were talking about if I’m interested.” Olive O’Dwyer, a 300L UI student, takes a rather lighthearted attitude to the same issue, “I just had to remind them I was still there. It always seems funny.” Despite the setbacks, Chukwudalu considers it better than the treatments he received growing up in the North. “You can’t make me feel small about my tribe,” he adds.
For Yorùbás, especially those who speak the language, fewer complaints can be heard about integration. When asked what the hardest part of being Yorùbá is at UI, 300L Olorunnisomo Oreoluwa says “I don’t think there’s anything hard, to be honest.”
If only the wearer knows where the shoe pinches, only he knows what soothes it. “I smile and keep shut when they are speaking Yorùbá to me, I only try to use the situation and context to try to discern what information is being passed,” Michael shares. John “started learning Yorùbá online but stopped because no time,” he says. Kingsley and Kharisma are also trying to learn the language to fit in, but for Olive, “I already feel like a part,” she says, a sentiment echoed by Chukwudalu. Yet, at the far end of the spectrum are some other people who don’t want to blend in with the crowd. “I have done nothing. I do nothing. I do not subscribe to the ideology of fitting-in. I see it as cultural genocide. People are different. Difference is to be recognized, understood, criticized, imitated, celebrated, decanted,” Makuochukwu adds.
Going through these challenges sometimes is easier when you’re not doing so alone. Chukwudalu testifies to being part of an ethnic association on campus. ”Yes, Igbo medical students association UI. I was brought in by a course mate. They help create a sense of belonging especially in a place where we are actually a minority (e.g UI) …getting together from time to time and having the opportunity to show your true cultural self is also something nice. We have adapted to the new environment, and we have every other opportunity to do so (our daily living),” he says. “The association is just like a place to “rest” from the Yorùbá.” And so does Makuochukwu, “I belong to an ethnic association that offers a sense of community for people like me living far from home. The association has little to no effect on integration,” he says. John is a member of NADESSTU — the National Association of Delta State Students. But a large percentage either aren’t aware they exist or haven’t just joined. “No, I am not in any association of such. However, having such association would give the student a sense of home,” Kingsley says. Obianuju Duru Mfon, a 300L UI student, doesn’t belong to one but speaks highly of them. “No, I do not belong to any. In recent ones I’ve seen, they do make it easy for people to belong. They at least try to make it easier for students coming in,” she says. Yet perceptions of these associations are not all rosy. “I really don’t know but I feel it has its good sides and bad sides. If I was from far away, I would want to be around people of the same ethnicity. The extreme would be that I only make friends with them and I don’t try to be friends with other ethnic groups,” Eniola chips in.
The question posed at the start of this piece is not without an answer. Nigeria, though multicultural, is one country, and as such, these students at universities are citizens navigating their own country. Skewing means of interaction and forcing uniformity actively denigrates the beauty of a multicultural state and produces similar results as colonialism did to African cultures. “What even is integration? Cultural genocide?,” Makuochukwu asks.
Post-civil war, the Nigerian government introduced the ELDS policy which ensured that a particular quota of admission slots went to aspirants from Educationally Less Developed States. This policy was designed to foster national unity such that at least 20% of all admitted students are from these states. Since most of these states are less developed educationally, indigenes are scattered across other states ensuring a steady representation of minorities. To achieve the goal of unity, the atmosphere in universities must be welcoming. Minorities must also be willing to acknowledge that not all locals are conversant with the official language, thus, that the intent behind switching to their local dialect isn’t always malicious. Nigerian universities, are not Rome. They should be places where the practicality of diversity produces cultural tolerance and national unity. So when in Rome, be yourself — and at peace with the Romans.
Students have ideas about how to get there. Michael believes “They should stop expecting everyone to simply come to a place and start speaking a language, everyone has their own mother tongue and what makes you better. Even if for communication you are trying to explain the reason why we should learn the language of the land, this should be communicated with empathy and understanding.” Still on the language issue, John says, “maybe get an interpreter or teach us the language, integrate it into our curriculum” Frances says people should “try to communicate in languages everyone can understand; English or Pidgin.” Emmanuel says people should “be a little less interrogative” and Kingsley says they should “be nonsentimental.”
“Everything is already perfect to me. They should just inform Yorùbás that not all foreigners are Igbos”, Olive says. “It’s majorly up to us sha to find a friend who will help us integrate. What I think people can do…hmm I don’t really know jare. No dey switch to your language if you want to abuse me? Be patient with me if I ask you one million times for the meaning of one thing?” Chukwudalu adds.
“I saw coming to UI as a challenge I had to take. I wanted to go to a place far from home, I’ve always loved the idea of leaving my hometown so I thought ‘I’m an Igbo guy, I’ve lived in a Hausa state almost all my life,I want to go to a new place’ so I enquired about a university in the West that I can go to”, Chukwudalu shares. Perhaps Makuochukwu says it best, “Difference must never be turned into the pathology of ‘otherness.’”
Story was originally published by UIMSA press
