LOSS OF IDENTITY. THE NORTH POOLS VS THE SOUTH POOLS.

At the college, when I was studying to be a qualified teacher, I was taught to be critical. However, this was a good side of my college experiences. What was bad was that my critique was allowed only when it was made towards my own civilization. My own culture. My beliefs. The “West” even to an average African undergraduate are "perfect or nearly so". But I would not have worried that much if this belief is individual or just primitive.  

Under a canopy to be at the same time a critical professional journalist, my scopes against invasion were growing. My understanding towards Africa and its interests to let her children not suffer stampedes. My auditor who was a politician always welcome my headlines. The only place where my critical views could be hard was here. The media he always tell me dictates the world. He was the first to tell me Africa cannot attain her own will and required global recognition until she ignores the western media. From here on, I was inspired to be a journalist. Through our local media at the college level, I have published many articles much of which were a critique towards the status quo. Bless with skills to put words into action, I was into caricaturing public figures. Was this the time I called public attention? Maybe yes. The college notice board was from then the best common gathering. The attention that was shown by public figures and ordinary individuals encouraged me more into what many was either scared of or failed to do –criticizing the status quo. The day I met the registrar and the principal of the school discussing while watching a caricature of themselves on a college noticeboard and asking who I was gave me further spirits. In this accidental early morning contact with them while replacing other articles at the noticeboard, I got interrogated and I was identified. They were not conservatives. They motivated me. They asked for clarifications before any future publications of articles. The public and student roar that could not let calm the administration made me to first experience intellectual dictatorship. From then on a censorship began.

Fist, for all freedoms to be granted academic freedoms must be given space. My college could not allow freedom of speech because it will risk her autonomy and let her naked. Pushing more articles under my name tantamount failure for me. Must I capitulate under this condition? No! I was ever courageous until the D-day. The day I was formally condemned and prevented from publishing on the College newspaper taught me a lot. I began to critically ask myself of what was abnormal. My moves which I could not help control made me a “black sheep” at the college. Nonetheless, believing ever in what I do, I could not be distracted. The presence of my parents again would have been useful here. Passing from them young, I could still remember. They used to tell me a lot of wisdom. “Do not give-up”, “What is Important is What Comes out of You and not your Attire”, “The Majority is not always right”, “Find home even in the jungle on the truth”, “Think before you leap”, to mention but a few guide me through and this is both culturally and religiously true for many Africans.

My links after to study Political Science and International Relationships were never accidental. My parent who were not very active in politics were rich in political thoughts. I could realize this when they mediate among other people. When they communicate, it was rich beyond home consumption. Even though, they could not see me read politics at this level and engage in it at national platforms, I am grateful I owe them this inspiration.

Having undergone a difficult atmosphere at the college, I was better prepared for the university. I had cultivated well. The bad wind that blew me, tossed  upon me some good wills. Experience to fight. Combating for justice was always my first slogan. Politics ever found a great space in my heart. I read mountains on African history and politics. I learned to emulate many freedom fighters in Africa. All of a sudden I was nicknamed a Pan-African. Whether this was true at that time was something I had to figure out. While not refusing the public claim, I was already one. My colleagues who used to pull my legs at the university were mostly politician themselves. At table conferences on the way out for Africa, I always take the lion share. I was more connected to research on “The African Condition” than to studying for marks. I think this was why I was ‘more stuffed’ than many of my colleagues at the centre table. Organizing symposiums on Africa became my way. One memorial event of such was the greatest debate ever organised in the Gambia College for years(2009-12) which I personally pioneered but happened to be a debater for the motion. The motion which was “African’s underdevelopment was internally induced” was defended by the HTC (Higher Teachers Certificate) students against the PTC(Primary Teachers Certificate) students. Some events passed across with less public attention but most were very successful.

My faculty that was said to be the most democratic at the university do not find funds with ease. In fact majority of those who study politics then had to sponsor themselves. Other department attracted government scholarships. Ours was considered an ‘opposition’. The government felt very reluctant to award even the most brilliant students who choose to study politics. Again academic freedom was ‘denied’. The means to an end. Every African government who wills to stay in power first ‘destroy oppositions’. They could only trespass smoothly in such a doing. Until today, many African universities do not have academic freedom.

My story that could tell a little about every African, is an interesting one. Africans embracing after losing wars against their colonial masters found themselves “more secured” in the constructed colonial borders than their ancestral ones. Africans are contended to be identified as Gambians, Nigerians, South Africans, Tanzanians, Malians etc. than sharing a common continent or in fact refusing a colonial flag or anthem. This will also lead into whether they are either French-speaking people or English speaking people throwing out their ancestral ethnic groups. This self-denial of one’s nature leads to cultural and traditional breakdowns if not a total extinctions to some forms. Refusing to be identified as one Africans, helps more to allowing western invasion. My own intelligence at school, college and at the university was measured by how fluent I am in English language. An African child is happier to be fluent in one or two colonial language than traditional ones. I still cannot count more than five African languages that are taught at a university level in Africa. Whether or not these languages are in fact recognized in their own parliaments and neighbouring countries is another great debate. African disunity was fundamentally link to themselves not using a common language. Very few West Africans could find comfort communicating to an East African without using a colonial language. Since traditional communications are polluted extensively by this foreign languages, African identity is threatened.

Language as a basic tool to identity, culture and dignity were first interrupted by western invasion into African territories. Even political campaigns are mostly carried in this foreign languages. Many African parliaments never discussed about introducing discussions in their own local languages. It is not unusual for an African parliamentarian or public figure to be quoted for grammatical errors. This has made the Golden Continent not receive comments from many parliamentarians who became silent not to be ridiculed the next day on the media. Political appointments are most often made on whether you are from a Western university or not. Africans are found to be both haters of the West and friends at the same time. This two contradictory futures are yet to be tabled and sadly not many African knew this. I have to be frank. In other to be marked well in exams, citations were preferred from Western authors than African writers even when it is about Africa. Africa was designed by the West to be consumed in inferiority and Africans sadly fuel this. Hardly could I find African literature in the selves of the library. African universities will rather spend a million on a single western author than promoting thousands of African writers at a lower cost. Was this the cause of why I cannot realize myself in a western university. I doubt not.

Many African religions found their roots outside her borders. Islam and Christianity has chased away forever many ancestral religions. Another cause for continuous unrest in the golden continent. Islam or Christianity as imperial instrument do not welcome traditional religions. They were rejected outright from dominance. Since the locals were found very fragile to defend themselves, their ideologies easily faded out with their religions. Islamic or Christian civilizations took dominance. Indigenous civilization and its origins were disregarded and considered barbaric. The indigenous Africans were divided within themselves into Christianity or Islam welcoming unrest. Most political instabilities were not known to Africa before these religions. The importations of these “superior” beliefs destroy African religious independence. The gods outside Africa were stronger and more powerful than the local gods. Since African beliefs were highly associated to which god one worship, the invaders trade first in this ideological war using a divide and rule system to conquer the locals. And due to this calamity, I could not see what my ancestors really had as their gods. This indispensable dignity was denied from me and many other Africans. The question what were our traditional religions is no more relevant to the majority of Africans. Religion goes around self-identification. Dignity in a nutshell. What I face today in a Western society is surely link to this. I cannot easily claim originality without a linkage to one or two western ideologies.

Even though Islam is fairly link not to be a western culture, was because Islam and Christianity were nearly always enemies in dominance for Africa. In many western societies who are aware of this historical background tends to discriminate Islamists. When I speak as a person, my ideologies are first link towards Islam and other things only secondarily. My African Christian friends experienced a different prejudice. Sharing one colour and cultural heritage but at divergences before a western fellow because he is convinced I am less “tolerant”. I was found to be a Muslim. While figuring out why my views are less accommodated in a western society, I first must allow their views to be more democratic, open and superior before an ear is given to my views.

Adaption or surrender? Inferiority or superiority? Documentation or refusal? Christianity, Islam or other western mind-sets? Dominance or total self-censorship?

While many of those questions found contrasting answers inside me, the reality cannot be refused. I am forced to eat a bread singing against my own dignity. I do not need freedom without floor nor do I need floor without liberty. I am either provided all the rights linked to a democratic society or denied all!

I used to read as an undergraduate, that many westerners are now sympathizers of Africa and that many regretted their past actions and in-actions. There is nothing more hoodwinking than that statement. This is a total falsification. Until now, what is evidential to most of all, is the West trying to occupy and plunder more African resources than ever before. Their refusal to share a common table over essential global decisions are self-evidently plenty to be mentioned herein. The West never on their drawing boards had a good uncorrupted intention towards Africa. After clearly reading from secondary schools to undergraduate level, and now accidentally under western wimps directly, I cannot ask them to fool me more. Mine (and ours) is a total ‘inferiority’ under western analysis.

Africans compelled away from their homes continue to be a self-denial to “real human status” in Africa. Stops, questions, mockery, bad winks continue to pave our way. Continuous stops by police on my way to school taught me that humanity holds no fair judgment. Even my close friends were attracted to me because I an African and not because we are equally homo sapiens. The first question every “white” man asked me is, why are you here? I can never remember asking another coloured person why he was in Africa. Was this because I thought Africa was for all? Was I more democratic and freedom conscious? At the sight of this question I feel really bad. Not because I do hate the question itself but the motive behind it. I can fully remember running to plug fresh mango fruits for other coloured people in Africa as a gift to them. I cannot forget other Africans giving their comfortable houses to other coloured people in the name of humanity. What do we African receive as a compensation for our goodness? Our hospitality?

I cannot imagine being refused human identity for the mere fact that I am African. Being in Europe, all I seemingly perpetuate fighting for is an identity…an African identity is lost…finding it seems a matter of wait-and-see.

My well-founded, excellent and original ideologies are denied until associated to a non-African thinker.