Between Two Worlds, but never in them.

The state of being a bi-nationalist: living in two different worlds and none at the same time

I was born in Nigeria. Both of my parents are from Nigeria and lived there their whole lives. I am Nigerian.

I have lived in Ireland for over 15 years. All that I remember, from my earliest memories, is Ireland. I grew up in this country and am a citizen of it. I am Irish.

Whenever somebody asks me “Where are you from?” I take two steps back and attempt to run through a maze in my mind. I still have not found the exit to this maze, because all mazes have only one exit, but for some reason it seems like this maze should have two. But this does not agree with supposed logic, so I stop my attempt at running and simply blurt out either “Ireland” or “Nigeria”. Usually, the chances of me blurting out one answer or the other is dependent on who is asking. If it is a black person asking, I am more quick to say Nigeria. If it is a white person asking, I have to ask for clarification on the question, “As in where do I live..? or where was I born..?” Because I’m not too sure of the intention behind their question. I ask this same question sometimes when black people ask me, but most of the time I understand the context of why I am being asked when it is a black person. With white people, it is generally a very random question. Many a time, when I answer Nigeria, they proceed to tell me about the missionary trip they or their distant uncle took to Sierra Leone, which has no correlation to me being from Nigeria. However, when I answer Ireland, they either give me an awkward smile and nod, or then ask “Where are your parents from?” which in my head makes me wonder why they care so much about my family history. This has been the story of my life.

I am from two places and yet feel like I am from none simultaneously. When I am in Nigeria, Nigerians banter me and call me “oyinbo” because they can see the differences between me and them. When I am in Ireland, Irish people treat me differently because I am “black” and they can see the differences between me and them. Difference is not a bad thing, but in my case it just causes a lot of confusion for me. I have a mixture of both Nigerian and Irish culture in me, but I can never really say I totally belong to either one.

I feel like many black people of the diaspora can relate to this. Particularly the ones who are immigrants or children of immigrants. And not just black people but anybody who finds themselves to have emigrated at a very young age. It feels as if we are constantly in the air trying to answer questions that really should not be that complex to answer.

One thing that I have noticed though from this conundrum is the creation of a new tribe.

tribe
/trʌɪb/
noun
1.
a social division in a traditional society consisting of families or communities linked by social, economic, religious, or blood ties, with a common culture and dialect, typically having a recognized leader.

Oxford Dictionary

It seems as if people of the diaspora – being able to relate so much to one another in social, economic and religious experiences – have low-key formed a tribe of our own. We do not fit completely into either bracket that society demands that we force ourselves into, so we created our own – one that allows us to be both. This is the reason why people of colour in multicultural countries have a greater tendency to relate to one another, despite being from different backgrounds. Many of us undergo such similar experiences in how we are treated, how it is hard to adjust, how we understand two totally different worlds, etc etc. If in another world, we would never be friends, now is not the case.

This tribe that I’ve noticed has been created has it’s own distinct characteristics. From the way we speak, the language we use, the range of music that we listen to, how we act, even ‘how we walk’ (as Nigerians notice when we visit home). Even that word, ‘home’…I’m not quite sure what place I would call home now. This is the reality of this dilemma.

Black people abroad have created their own tribe. In Africa, you are not seen exclusively as ‘black’, you are just seen as an African (because black is not simply a colour but an experience). On the grand scale of things, you are not treated differently to your neighbour because of your skin colour. You can share close to zero experiences with somebody, because skin colour is not the be-all-end-all. But over here, just by being black alone, you have greater chances of relating to another person who is black, simply because you will share so many experiences. Many of us are amongst, or infact are, the first generation of our families to spend our entire lives abroad, and maybe that is why it is so confusing. I sometimes wonder whether my children will have the same experience as me or whether they will be more clear of where they are more ‘in touch’ with. There will always be Nigerian culture in my home, but there will also always be Irish culture, so I don’t quite know how they will form impressions of either culture without knowing which belongs to what. If I now go and give birth to them in a whole other country…wahala dey!

In truth, there are some people of the diaspora who have zero confusion about this and can probably not relate to this at all. They are confidently either fully Irish or fully Nigerian (or whichever other country you are from). And I think that is great! It’s great to know and have no doubts or questions as to what you identify as. But my blog is a place for me to express my thoughts with honesty and be a relief to some people, to remind them that none of us are alone.

So yeah, I’m still in this maze, but I’m not running through it anymore. I’m just walking at my own pace. Maybe one day I’ll find that one exit and be at total peace. Or maybe the laws of a maze will suddenly change after centuries and I will finally see that there are two viable exits…Or maybe I’ll just grab a matchstick and burn the maze. Who knows?