I felt it rising within me as I sat at the boarding gate to Libreville via Yaounde at the Bole International airport in Addis Ababa. Having gotten to the gate earlier than most, I had the luxury of watching the other passengers join me. As they arrived – some in pairs, others in small groups, some alone and still others in large groups – I could’t help but wonder – why are they flocking to Africa like this? I was feeling upset. Well, that is a very mild way to put it. In reality, I was feeling resentful. In fact, so resentful that it bordered on bitterness.
I am sure they are from different nationalities but they all look “Chinese” to me in much the same way that all black people look “African.” And then the loud talking and laughter and almost complete disregard for neighbor. Why are they so loud? I frowned. Their language is as annoying as their laughter is repulsive. Can’t they see that there are so many others at this gate? And where is their respect for personal space? I wondered as one just about got in my roll aboard trying to fit in the seat next to me. I am sure that not all of them were headed to Cameroon seeing the flight schedule but still I thought to myself If you are going to invade my country, the least you can do is show some respect.
It didn’t seem to matter that not all of them were engaging in upsetting behavior. To be fair, some of them, just like everyone else at the gate seemed to be focusing on whatever occupied first place in their list of priorities. Some were catching up on much needed sleep while others swiped away on their smart phones and still others sat staring bleakly at nothing. My discomfort with their invading Africa colored the lens through which I saw everything about everyone of them. A few seats away from me, one of them sat watching a video with another who looks like me. They were laughing and having a lot of fun but that just infuriated me further. What is wrong with her? I wondered. Are there no black people left in the world? I locked eyes with one of them sitting a few feet from me and she quickly looked away. What lack of manners! I breathed. My eyes wondered to another one and she volunteered a faint smile but I quickly looked away!
That was when it hit me! What am I doing? What is coming over me? Why would I refuse to return an innocent and well-intentioned smile? You can’t be so sure about that, my thoughts cut in. This could very well be the evil grin. She might actually be making advances at you because she is a lesbian, my mind continued down its sorry path of rationalization for my lack of courtesy. Shaking myself back to reality, I knew I had to make a decision. Would I feed my unjustified resentment for an entire people group or would I choose to embrace and renew my commitment to the values and principles I have come to uphold? What happened next would be determined by the choice I made.
Well, the fact that you didn’t hear, read, or watch a disturbing news report involving me at Gate C7 in the airport attests to the fact that I chose to remember and embrace our common humanity. #sarcasm
But all jokes aside, as I look back at the emotions that stirred within me on that early morning a few days ago, I can’t help but wonder how in the world such hateful feelings could have found room in my heart even if just for a few seconds. I like to consider myself as a lover of God and others and I am sure those who know me can attest to that. But my experience underlines the fact that we all are capable of bad fruit to the degree that we let its seeds take root in our hearts.
A few weeks ago, the world arose to yet another wave of xenophobia in South Africa at a time when news of despicable evil related to countless “isms” and “ias” is in abundant supply. My country Cameroon has produced more than its fair share of heart rending and jaw dropping headlines within the last three years most of which I didn’t believe my country people were capable of. And while I know that crimes vary in degree, I happen to believe that the varied fruits of evil spring from the same seed. Had I not deliberately made the right choice at that terminal, I could very well have set myself on the slippery slope to some of these headlines.
So what am I saying? I am saying that each one of us is biased in favor of his/her own. And it is this inherent bias that provides the manure on which hatred, which eventually manifests in hate crimes, thrives. When no intentional effort is made to challenge these biases and uproot the bad seeds that seek abode in our hearts, bit by bit, like the drops of water that make the mighty ocean, the seeds become trees which grow bigger and bigger with each unsuspecting offense until their fruit is inevitable. The fears associated with xenophobia are, in my humble opinion, just an expression of these deep-seated attitudes towards the other. So, before you go hanging your nose at those “South Africans” or those “others” remember that we all are capable of such grievous crimes because our hearts are as desperately sick as they are wicked.
Still don’t believe me? take a look at your mother tongue or the language you have come to call your own. What is its word for other? Lamnso, my mother tongue, uses “wir kitum”; limbum, a neighboring language to mine uses “nwe nfu”; Oku people talk about “wil kitum”; in the Bafut language it is ngǝ̀ǝ̀; barko in Hausa; mweni in Bakweri; ngin in Bakossi; euh neng (singular) or beuh yeng (plural) in Beti etc. (that’s a lot of strange words but you get the point?) Unlike the words in these same languages for us or our kind, these words carry negative connotations which almost suggest that anyone called by them is less human. When it goes unchecked, these appellations easily become justifications for bad treatment and before you know it, disturbing headlines are created. Sitting at the terminal, my biases found expression at a time when sleeplessness and extreme exhausting associated with my travel itinerary had robbed me of the capacity to filter my thoughts confirming the saying that given the right circumstances, we all are capable of just about anything.
But instead of using these as excuses, I choose to take responsibility and own the fact that I did entertain such despicable thoughts about another human race (#mercyLord). In fact, by biblical standards, I was guilty of murder (1 John 3:15) because as ashamed as I am to admit it, hate did find a home in my heart there for a few minutes. I have made peace with God and I can assure you that it will be the last time that I let that flourish in my mind. #sohelpmeGod
What is the word for “other” in your mother tongue or language? How often do you use it in your daily encounters with others? Is there a chance that you are guilty of murder (by the hatred you may have nursed or are actively nursing for someone or a group of people) today?
People do not just wake up one day and commit grievous crimes. They get there slowly. If nothing else, I hope that this post awakens you to your own biases as well as the need to be intentional about the seeds that find a place in your mind lest you wake up one day and wonder how you couldn’t have stopped so low as to commit a hate crime against another.
I hope that the “us versus them” can be replaced with the healthier we which celebrates our differences and seeks ways to exploit them towards our collective wellbeing. Then, and only then, can we win the battle over hate crimes.
Journey with Della 