Saturday, 4 May 2013

Face-to-face with Drunk Nigerian on the street of Germany


While in Germany, I had always thought that every Nigerian there had come in the pursuit of the Golden Fleece, at least to have a better life than what Nigeria could offer. I saw men and women, from different parts of Africa sweating it out to eke a living so that they can return to their country of origin better than they left. Despite the cold I saw them both in the morning and at night, at the bus stations, train stations, and on the walkways trying to make a difference, even though, some of them are doing jobs that seem less dignifying, at least to me. For example, I felt so sad on such occasions when I saw my fellow blacks sweeping the street, bus stations or any other public places. I often had that terrible feelings not because of the nature of the job they are doing, but for the fact that some of them left plum and highly rewarding jobs for the mad rush to stay abroad, only to discover at the last minute that it is not a bed of roses out there either. On the other hand though, some seeks greener pastures abroad because of disenchantment and loss of confidence in the ruling class who has bastardized the economy and made Nigeria, former giant of Africa, now a laughing stock in the comity of nations.
The drunk Nigerian I met at the bus station could have fallen into any of the two categories, but the unfortunate thing and most embarrassing to me, was the fact that a Nigerian could be so far from home, in such cold and drink himself into a stupor, virtually everyday as I learnt from some Nigerians in Berlin. I had been in the company with three of my colleagues returning from an evening at the musical performance and waiting for a bus to our apartment, when he staggered towards us and challenged us while I and a female colleague from Zambia could be going out with whites. Our male colleagues had been from Afghanistan and Egypt. Initially, I was embarrassed and walked away from the scene, but he seemed unperturbed and continued to disturb my colleague from Zambia whom he said he would like to marry as he was going to be the next President of Germany. Inside the bag he was carrying, I had seen a tuber of yam, diapers and some other things. We left him at the bus stop when our bus arrived few minutes later, but I felt sorry for my countryman who had turned a frustrated man in a foreign land.

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