2 months ago
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Last week, a UK-based medical doctor narrated how he was treated at the Murtala Muhammed International Airport, Lagos because he was dressed in a simple ankara outfit on his way back to his base. He noted that even though he had his passport in his hand with his luggage, airport staff continued to ask him who was travelling. Somehow, they assumed he must be the chauffeur or servant who was helping his boss with his luggage. When he went to the fast-track line, he was thoroughly screened to confirm he was the right person. He noticed that others were not being screened the same way.
Eventually, he realised that the problem was his simple ankara outfit. While he was more concerned with projecting the Nigerian dressing abroad, Nigerians treated him as a poor person undeserving of respect.
Likewise, I can’t count the number of times people have treated me with levity because they sized me up and concluded that I was not a person of wealth or influence. But let me give a couple of examples to buttress my point.
I once went to church without my car. After service, I met a friend who lived not too far from me. I asked him if he was going home straight, and he said yes. I told him that I would join him in his car as mine wasn’t available. He said no problem, that he only came with a friend and there was enough room in the car. The friend soon came out and joined us.
When we got to the car, his friend sat on the front seat while I sat at the back. Soon we began to talk. But anytime I tried to make a point, the friend of my friend would dismiss it. I tried several times but saw that he was an overbearing person. I kept quiet and allowed him to run the discussion alone. My friend offered to drop me off at my house. When we got to the gate, I insisted that since he brought me home, he must come in, even if briefly, for me to offer him “kola nut” as my guest. He eventually budged.
When they came in, I quickly served them drinks and some snacks. We chatted for a few minutes and they decided to leave. While I saw them off, the tone and attitude of his friend changed completely towards me. As we parted ways and shook hands, he shook my hands with his two hands, bent his head slightly, and added “Sir” repeatedly. I laughed sadly in my heart.
What happened that caused the transformation in attitude? While we were in the car, he saw me as someone with no car and of no consequence. As far as he was concerned, such a person who was being given a lift should not have an opinion on politics or governance―such a person should just sit down quietly and be grateful that he was being given a free ride. Then we got home and he saw that the man he thought was an inconsequential person had a home. He offered them wine and fruit juice and snacks. Suddenly, the nobody became somebody who deserved to be addressed as “Sir” and shaken with two hands.
Another time, I was invited to speak at a church programme. I came in dressed simply but smartly. The ushers barely noticed me. Even when I greeted them, it was hard for them to respond. Smiling was also a problem for them. I went in and sat down quietly. Then I sent a note to the pastor that I was in. Shortly after, he announced my presence and called on me to come forward. As I stood up, the same people who found it hard to even respond to my greeting when I was coming in suddenly swarmed around me and began to fuss over me. One wanted to collect the small notebook I had but I resisted, as I never find any sense in someone with two functioning hands being helped to carry a book, a Bible, an umbrella, or a bag that is not heavy.
The reality is that the level of materialism and sartorial profiling in Nigeria is irritating. It is so pervasive and brazen that most Nigerians don’t realise they engage in it. Most Nigerians choose to respect people based on their dress, car (or lack of it), house (or lack of it), position, wealth, etc. It happens in the church, on the street, in the university, at community meetings, on social media, in the market, and all over the place. Conversely, Western countries treat people first as human beings irrespective of their status.
Less than two weeks ago, Justin Timberlake, singer-songwriter and actor, pleaded guilty to impaired driving in New York and received a lighter sentence. Timberlake, who was arrested in June, expressed remorse before the judge, saying: “I did not live up to the standards that I try to hold for myself… I should have had better judgment. I understand the seriousness of this.”
In Nigeria, it would be virtually impossible for the police to arrest a top musician like Burna Boy, Davido, Flavour, or Tiwa Savage for driving under the influence of any substance. The law is there to do that but Nigerians treat people differently based on their wealth, political power, or influence. The common expression in Nigeria once there is any disagreement is: “Do you know who I am? Just one call and you are finished.”
Even police officers and other security officers who genuinely want to implement the law easily get called off by their superiors because someone of influence is called to report them for doing their job. Many of them have lost their job or faced persecution because they tried to do their work but their superiors received a call from some “powerful people.”
In developed countries, this does not apply. The law does not look at faces. Nobody is above the law. In fact, when political leaders and celebrities breach the law, rather than be let off the hook like Nigerians do, they receive stiffer penalties because they are seen as role models to millions of people. This has a direct effect on the progress or regress of a country. Countries that don’t treat people differently based on their wealth or social status make progress while those that don’t do that remain underdeveloped. The reason is that political leaders use that lacuna to engage in corruption, lawlessness, impunity, cronyism, and other vices that pull countries back.
In comparison, developed countries progress because the law treats people equally. Money or political power matters in developed countries but does not determine who is respected or not. The first sign is that people rarely use chauffeurs in such countries. It is very costly to keep a chauffeur because people are paid according to hours, and nobody is allowed to be paid below the minimum wage. It is also seen as a sign of incapacitation not to be able to drive oneself. Even physically challenged people drive themselves in their cars or motorized wheelchairs. Political leaders like senators and ministers—perhaps minus the president or prime minister, CEOs of big organizations, bishops of big churches, sports stars, and top musicians all drive themselves.
In addition, many people choose not to even drive but to use the city bus or train. Some ride bicycles. Some walk to their offices if they don’t live far off. Buses and trains are not seen as the means of transportation for poor people.
Conversely, in Nigeria, chauffeurs are paid peanuts and can work from morning to night as long as their boss wants. They can be talked to anyhow, shouted at, insulted, and even slapped by the boss or the spouse or children of the boss. Anybody who uses public buses or trains is regarded as a poor person and treated with condescension.
In developed countries, there are high-paying jobs and low-paying ones, but people are not disrespected because of their careers. A cleaner or security person may come to work in a Range Rover Sport or Toyota Prado, park the vehicle, change into work clothes, complete the shift, and leave. When people need to be attended to anywhere, they line up. Nobody beats the line. Nobody is given any preferential treatment based on wealth or influence.
Most Nigerians don’t even realise how this respect for people based on their wealth and political position aids crime. There is a dangerous saying: “Get rich or die trying.” It drives many people to do all kinds of things to become rich because they know that the moment they get rich, they are accorded respect. Nobody would bother to ask questions about how they came about the money.
– X: @BrandAzuka
