“Please sit down,” Jamike said to his friend, pointing at the seat next to him. “You couldn’t have been on the same flight with me or I would have seen you in Lagos.”
“No, I was not on the flight. I live here in New York.”
“When did you come to this country?”
“I came right after the civil war. I worked for Biafra Relief Services in Gabon during the war and came to the United States after the war ended.”
“That’s wonderful. Do you live far from the airport?”
“Not too far. I live in Queens.” “So why are you here? Are you on a business trip?”
“I came to attend Regius College in Pennsylvania.”
As they talked, Nnamdi kept looking in many directions.
“Are you looking for someone?” Jamike asked him.
“ Yes, I am here to meet a cousin who was supposed to be on the same flight with you.”
Nnamdi abruptly excused himself and headed toward the customs exit doors as a large number of people streamed out. His expected passenger was not among them. Each time the huge customs doors swung open, he moved closer to see if his cousin was in the group of passengers coming out. He asked those whom he could identify as Nigerians by their speech or attire, if there were any more persons still left behind in customs from the Nigerian flight. At one point the number of passengers exiting came to a trickle.
Eight
While Nnamdi looked for his cousin, Jamike internalized everything he saw around him at the airport. There were people of different nationalities, speaking different languages. Many times he would shake his head as if to confirm to himself that he was really in a foreign land. He overheard some black people speaking English with a different accent and tone. He stared at them occasionally, wondering if these were the American Negroes he heard about in Nigeria. He did not see any difference between them and the people back home. In fact, Jamike thought that each one looked familiar.
However, in the course of his stay in America, Jamike came to realize that there was a great deal of difference between the experiences of the black people he saw in America and those back in his home in Africa. He would find out that the experience of racism, oppression, and discrimination against black people in America would color their perspectives on life and society in general. It was in Regius that the clothing store merchant insulted Jamike the week he arrived by telling him that he was not like the other black students who make away with his merchandise. Jamike had gone to buy some clothing, when the merchant who had been watching his movements suspiciously approached.
“May I help you find something, sir? Are you looking for anything in particular?”
“I want to get some clothes for the season.”
“ Oh, where are you from? You have a beautiful accent.”
“I am from Nigeria.”
“Boy, you have traveled a long way from home. Isn’t that country somewhere in Africa?”
“Yes, it is West Africa.”
He was showing Jamike the various items of clothing that would interest him, when suddenly he said in low tone.
“Your accent shows you are not from here. You know, those black kids from Pittsburgh, we watch them closely when they come into the store because once they leave, our goods disappear. You are not like them. You are all right.” Jamike was shocked to hear his comment but went about making his selection while he thought over the remark that took him unawares. After he paid for his merchandise, Jamike said to the store man:
“I am new to the college, but I think what you said is not good.”
“That’s your opinion. Have a good day.” He began chatting with other customers.
Through this and other encounters, Jamike realized that he would need to identify with the black students in Regius, whether or not his experience was similar to theirs. As long as he shared the same skin color with them, his nationality would not matter; instead, race would matter because he was black. He would become as much a target of racism and discrimination, as the clothing store merchant had shown. By telling him that he was better than American blacks, Jamike felt that the clothing merchant and other racists would try to put a wedge between blacks from the continent and those born in America. He concluded that by using the tactic of divide and conquer, blacks from Africa were encouraged to remove themselves from the group they belonged to. This first encounter with racism would sensitize Jamike to always be on his guard whenever he came in contact with people who had similar stereotypes of black people. Jamike would find out more.
As Nnamdi looked for his cousin, another passenger was looking inside the same building for him. He was a businessman who was on the flight from Nigeria. He had a letter for Nnamdi, which informed him that his cousin could not travel because the date on an important document he had had expired. He was disappointed after he read the letter. He then rejoined Jamike.
“Man, what did you say brought you to this land?”
“The man I saw you talking to was on the plane with me because I saw him in Lagos. Does he know anything about your cousin?”
“He had a letter for me. The American Embassy did not give my cousin a visa. And do you know what? It is because his Form I-20 was overdue for just one day. Can you believe it?”
“I can believe it! I was warned that embassy officials would not bend the rules about school deadlines. The deadline for reporting to school should be in one of the letters the school sent him. I am sure he saw the date. That is a pity.”
“Do you think one day is enough to deny him a visa?”
“I don’t know, but I heard embassy staff is serious about adhering to stated dates. I was warned about it. You should know better than I, because you live here and know the system. It seems that Americans rigidly stick to rules in official matters.” Jamike kept his eyes with interest on a woman obviously agitated as she made a phone call and talked loudly in a foreign language.
“You talk as if you are one of the embassy officials.”
“No, Nnamdi, I speak as a teacher who knows what rules and regulations are. Rules should be followed once they are made, or there would be no need for them to be made. Suppose he was allowed to travel with expired documents and upon his arrival in New York the immigration officials refuse him entry and send him back on the same plane. I hear they can do so. That would not only be a big waste of money but also would cause embarrassment and shame at home. Most people would misunderstand it; they would think he had committed a crime already to be sent back home. You know how some people think.”
As the friends talked, three uniformed New York police officers including a female officer, appeared and moved briskly among people in the terminal, looking around, apparently in search of an offender. Jamike stood up to watch them. Nnamdi’s eyes followed them. The officers entered a room and shortly after came out with two men whom they led away in handcuffs.
“You are right Jamike,” Nnamdi said, continuing the conversation. “To be sent back would be the worst situation and would definitely cause embarrassment.” They stood watching the police until the apprehended men were put in police cars outside and driven away.
“Did you say you are here to go to school?”
“I will be attending Regius