When I decided to move to Europe (or so they like to refer to Turkey, even though it is not part of the EU), it was with the sole purpose of a greener pasture, good education, guaranteed quality job after. Go to school. Finish. Come back home. That was the plan but along the way, something went wrong.
Until I moved to Europe, I never knew what it really meant to be African. I was used to being Nigerian. I wasn’t used to being “African.” I come from a predominantly black society: Nigeria, the giant of Africa. I had no idea you could be anything other than Nigerian.
During my first semester, I was asked the most ignorant questions. I realized that being black of skin color automatically makes you poor, which prompted everyone to ask me if I was on a scholarship. I wasn’t on scholarship at my university. I would be proud to be on full scholarship. I had gotten a 20% scholarship in my first year (until in my second year when my school awarded all international students a 50% scholarship) but I still had to pay for tuition and dormitory.
Additionally, I realized that being one of the only two black girls in my university automatically made me an expert on anything African. Once Africa is mentioned, everyone turns to me, like having black skin guarantees you a doctorate in Africa.
I learned about Africa when I came to Europe. I fell more in love with who I was and where I came from when I moved to a different continent. I learned about stereotypes that I never even knew existed. I learned that people do not even know the first thing about Africa or being African, and that it was my responsibility to tell them of my beautiful homeland.
Notice how I will constantly refer to Africa as one (I do know that Africa is not a country), but that is what I learned. It doesn’t matter where you come from in Africa; all Africans are Africa and Africa is we. What language we speak, the shape of our nose, our hair texture, and our forehead, lips, all of that does not matter when it comes to being African. Yes, including you, North Africa. Including you Egypt. Regardless of how much Europe or America would like to whitewash you, Egypt is part of Africa and Africa is Egypt.
When you meet a European the first thing they say is “I am from Italy, Spain, Russia, England.” When you meet Africans, they say, “I am from…” and just stop right there because where you are from doesn’t matter. The world does not care where you are from. When they see black, it is all they see. Once they see you, it is Africa they see, and where you are from in Africa does not matter. Some people go further to talk about Africa like it is just one country.
I learned that my idea of beauty back home is not how beauty is defined in Europe. I had to relearn how to love myself - to love my hair, my skin, my nose, my lips, my butt. All of it made me African and I learned to be proud of that. I learned to accept my differences for what they are. The rest of the world may have scrambled and looted Africa, but they forgot to scramble and loot our spirit. I learned to fight for Africa, for the entire piece of earth that is Africa, my Africa, our Africa.
I had to stop saying “I am Nigerian so I don’t know” and replace it with “I know because I am African.” I learned about Africa in Europe, which is ironic because although I became an adult in Europe and developed a mind of my own there, I still did not learn much about Europe. Europeans will never talk about what it means to be European. They will tell you what it’s like to be Russian, Italian, Spanish, French.
Africa is me and I am Africa. When I moved to Europe, I thought I had found my place. Then I realized just how wrong Europe was for me. Africa is my home, my blood, and my skin. Wherever I go, Africa will be the earth that welcomes me home. It doesn’t matter where I fall in Africa. Africa will lift me right back up and I will be home.
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By: Asma
