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How Did Nigerians Miss Out On The Billions?

12 September, 2003 03:00:00 By Tonye David-West, Jr., Ph.D

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Harry Porter

I was one of those who answered the call put forth by the Youth League in my city of residence to be a "big brother" and role model to some less advantaged minority kids, mostly of elementary school age under the auspices of a city program called "Leaders of Tomorrow". And so with that commitment, I became an instant "big brother" to six young boys between the ages of nine and eleven. As "big brothers" were expected to do, I took my six "little brothers" this past weekend to the movies to watch Harry Potter II, The Chamber of Secrets, amidst a teeming audience of other teenage boys and girls. Needless to say that the theater was filled to capacity as I watched the management turned back eager viewers asking them to return for the later show. Most of the kids who came with their parents or guardians and were unable to secure tickets revolted in juvenile protest by stumping their feet and making assorted sad faces. But, all to no avail.

One particular white kid got my attention as his mother in a frantic attempt to console him confessed to any listening ear that he had not eaten well for days because he was eager to see the movie. When he was told to come back later as the tickets were all gone, his disappointment was evident for all to see. I was moved to give up my ticket for him. But I remembered that I was a chaperon for six other kids who if left unsupervised would bring about the Third World War in a matter of minutes. With such grim prospect staring me in the face, I held on tight to my ticket.

Magic Moments

I must confess that the trip to the movies was not all about the kids. I, like them, wanted to see what the hoopla was all about once again. Why the media had spent so much time focusing on this movie calling it the hit of all times having pulled in more than $1 billion in ticket sale not to mention sales of the books and the attendant merchandises. And so I pretended to be a teenager at heart and went into the theater with much expectations and excitement. Once in, everyone was talking about the movie, the little preview they had seen. Before I could even sit down and occupy my mouth with the simmering bucket of hot buttered popcorn that attended my hands, I noticed that the six young boys had already curdled together in pairs in apparent rehearsal of how they would comfort one another once the movie was underway as they expected it to be ghostly.

As expected, the movie commanded silence amongst all once it started and with that began part two of the story of a young boy and his wizardry in England. As it progressed, I became more amused at the story line [for those who have not seen it, don't worry I would not spoil it for you] and the plot as I was in part one which I saw months ago. I soon realized that I did not have to come to the theater to see a young boy learn a trade that is rampant in my country and right in my own village. If I wanted such an entertainment, all I would have done was to go to my village and watch the native doctors as they teach their apprentices the ins and outs of wizardry. And I did not have to pay $7.50 for that. I was wondering how the white man can take something that happens everyday in Africa and something which Africans use to harm themselves and make billions of dollars out of it? How is that possible? Is this the second colonization? How is it that we have not found that possibility and instead are killing ourselves with witchcraft and assorted diabolical means while the white man laughs all the way to the bank writing and making movies about it?

The movie prompted more questions than answers in my mind. Why is the white man outsmarting us in seemingly all regards? Even today, the entertainment industry in the West has made so much money from the sport of bungee jumping, a concept that originated in Africa where young boys had to jump from tree branches with ropes around their waist as an initiation process into manhood. Presently, this act holds true in many African cultures. But the white man has taken this concept, modified it, added some sophisticated gadgetry to it, and is making billions of dollars out of it and smiling all the way to the bank. All this is happening as Africans continue to jump from tree branches, breaking their limbs and risking death in the process, all in the name of achieving manhood.

As the movie continued to command the attention of the viewers, my thoughts also wandered in the vicinity of how Nigerians [and Africans] could have been the ones reaping the windfall from such tales. We have to rethink our strategies and capitalize on our culture in all aspects. We cannot continue to watch while our concepts are being stolen and the white man making fortunes out of it. Less I be misunderstood, I'm not saying that witchcraft is innate to our culture, that is another article and another debate. However, what I am saying is that our society is awash with such diabolical acts and if we must die from it as a society, we might as well make money from it in the process. It's better to die rich than poor, isn't it? I think that makes sense.

Even today, in museums in the West, African arts are on display attracting thousands of visitors, yet none of the proceeds go back to Africa. Sometimes, the artist is not even recognized even as his work earns its custodians millions of dollars. These curators go to Africa and purchase art work and bring them to the West, modify them and put them on display under the name of a different artist. Was it not Gowon who gave the Queen of England a very valuable piece of art work from our national collection in 1973? I'm sure in another century, that piece will be sitting in a museum in London stripped of any linkage to Nigeria.

As if that was not enough, we all have seen how the Kente cloth from Ghana has been revolutionized in America and is becoming the symbol of black America. This is fine. However, the fact remains that neither Africa nor Ghana is reaping the benefits of its discovery nor the billions of dollars made by merchants in the West selling this product of Ghana, especially, during graduation time in the spring and summer. Soon, black Americans will make a flag out of the Kente cloth and its colors.

In fact, there is an African-American gentleman in my city who has made millions from dealing in Kente cloth alone. He has fashioned it in every possible way including making photo albums out of it, picture frames, hats, shoes, socks, watch bands, wallets, purses, briefcases and you name it. Recently, he has even come out with Kente coffins and it's selling like crazy. People want to be buried in style and in their symbolic ethnic colors.

The gentleman is so ingenious that Africans including Ghanaians [could you believe this] are approaching him to make unique items made from Kente cloth for them. I even have one of those items somewhere in my living room of a carving of a man and woman holding hands clothed in Kente cloth with the woman in head gears made of Kente cloth and the man in a hat made from you guessed right, Kente cloth. Blacks from all over the globe beseech his store daily all in search of his latest Kente creation.

If only Ghana had patented such a product it would have gotten all the windfall from it. Just as the major corporations like McDonalds require individuals to purchase franchise for hefty sums, so would Ghana require Kente traders to pay hefty sums if they intend to deal in that product. But the African is not the one to think in such progressive ways. We know how to begin ethnic strife. We know how to begin religious wars. We are experts when it comes to corruption. We are even better experts when it comes to poisoning our neighbors and stealing their land, wife, etc. But, when it comes to positive creativity, we are nowhere to be found. Shame on us. What is the matter with Nigerians and the black race? Look at what the white man is doing with things that are indigenous to Africa.

While we would wish that there were no witches and wizards in Africa, the fact remains that they are plenty. So if we cannot get rid of this industry, we can at least make it a profitable one by way of writing books and making movies about it and sell them to the white man. He likes such things and he will buy them for himself, his children and his entire family. He will make it a must read book for his school districts. Don't you see how Harry Potter I & II are sweeping box offices across the West? All those billions of dollars could have been ours if we were thinking how to make money instead of how to kill, kill, kill and kill some more. Shame on us, Nigerians. Shame on us Africans.

This sequel to part one mainly deals with [chambers of] secrets of which we have billions in Nigeria. We have enough secrets in that country to fill the contents of this movie. Men hiding secrets from their wives and wives returning the favor and hiding their own secrets. Chiefs stealing lands and hiding it from their subjects and our politicians stealing money and hiding the location of it. Some religious leaders sleeping with young sisters in their flock and hiding it from the congregation, etc, etc. Nigeria is full of secrets, enough to fill part two and make a part three, four, five...

So next time you go to your town or village, be it Ijebu, Ogbomosho, Jos, Warri, Sapele, Benin, Nnewi, Owerri, Sokoto, Kano, Yenegoa and you name the rest, tell that little "Ogbanje" boy to stop disturbing villagers and go to acting school so he can act his "Ogbanje" out in Hollywood and make some money for his village. He may actually be the next Harry Potter in part three. Tell that wicked woman who always holds a broom at the entrance of the village and sweeps curses on those whom she does not like to go to Hollywood and sweep her curses there on white people. She may actually make millions in the process. Tell that old man who is feared because he is a medicine man that if he is a real medicine man he should make things fly and disappear and invite Spike Lee and other movie producers to witness his Houdini-ous prowess so they may produce a movie based on his diabolical indulgences.

As the movie concluded, it was evident that my "little brothers" were very excited at what they saw. Most of them had already read the book and confirmed that after seeing the movie, it all now made sense. One of them called Andre approached me, and the following discussion ensued:

"Big bro, aren't you from Africa?"

"Yes Dre" I responded.

"Don't they have all kinds of weird stuff there", he asked with increased curiosity.

"What do you mean, little man?"

"Stuff like cars flying and things disappearing," he explained.

"Well, sort of."

"Ah, men, they stole it from the motherland," he concluded in protest.

Need I say more?

***First published Nov 19, 2002. Re-printed with the permisson of the author.

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