Just the other day, my mother was threatening to once again force me to relearn the fluency of my mother tongue, because she and her friends were discussing the fear that speaking Igbo was going to eventually stop being the norm.
The later generation of kids, who moved away from our shithole country and successfully assimilated into the lesser vibrant culture that offers English as the non-negotiable, are more likely to replace the language they were born to speak with the language they were forced to claim as the mode of survival.
The recent headlines from all over world, particularly in Europe, are indicating a major shift towards White nationalism, and one gets the feeling that Darth Vader /Trump’s former Chief Strategist, Steve Bannon — has definitely hit his stride with the ambitious quest to spread the diseased messaging of the urgency for traditionally “White countries” to strive to do everything possible to protect the sovereignty of purity.
Your president definitely registers under the banner of White supremacy, and his blatancy on that topic is both jarring and extremely dangerous.
The GOP has resigned itself to the description as an endearingly racist party, and this is demonstrated in the deafening silence, that accompanied historically tragic events like the White supremacists violently seizing Charlottesville, and their supreme leader praising the rioters as “very fine people.”
There’s also the systemic demonizing of vulnerable ethnic groups with damaging labels that reek of stereotypical jargon. While he was reveling in the shitfest that he created out of the 2016 presidential elections, where he inappropriately trolled his running mate Hillary Clinton without pushback — Trump was also diligently laying down the foundation for his incoming toxic administration.
His signature swing of bravado seemed to charm the pants off of White America, especially White women, who felt compelled to assign their devilish hero the winning numbers to prove their allegiance. His ability to publicly spew out the kind of shit that White people say out loud in establishments that drown out the garbage with the help of Iron Maiden, was a refreshing change from the 8 years of mandatory political correctness.
And so here we are, weathering the season of brutality with the dire presence of a White man, who has the law on his side, despite the glaring signs of his gross negligence and epic incompetence; including life-threatening tendencies that include deepened love affairs with Vladimir Putin and Kim Jong-un. He enjoys breaking bread with royal families that plan bloody executions of renowned journalists, while courting a once “world police” with waddles of millions and millions of dollars.
But the seductive quality that appeals to his ignorant base, is his celebrated hatred for Black and Brown people.
The White population that voted for him are adamant about how they don’t agree with his racism, but love the other irresistible qualities that overshadow the one thing that should be the dealbreaker.
This is how hateful rhetoric is normalized to the point of being an openly practiced religion that no longer bears the stigma that used to keep White people in check.
NBC’s longtime ambassador, Tom Brokaw, broke with tradition after his shocking reveal as a closeted racist. His deplorable comments about how Hispanics are responsible for the hostility they endure from President Trump and his #MAGA crowd of haters — simply because of their refusal to “assimilate” in ways that would make White people feel comfortable enough to be around them was definitely a low point in the distinguished world of White journalism.
Brokaw’s defense was the incredulous assumption that Hispanic parents are depriving their children from the privilege of learning the superior language of English. This major flaw is apparently responsible for the prejudice that White people instinctively bestow on unpolished Brown people, who aren’t measuring up to lofty standards. And it also gives Trump the validation he needs to fight for the wall, that will keep out the swarms of brutes who are desperate to chew their way through barriers, and overrun White America with Hispanic grand-babies.
“You know, they ought not to be just codified in their communities but make sure that all their kids are learning to speak English.”
Brokaw is in great company with his racist rationale, since the “director of graduate studies for a Duke University School of Medicine department” weirdly ditched her reputable accomplishments in favor of a lame email that was swiftly intercepted, and judged accordingly.
Dr. Megan Neely, dared to go where nobody in her position should venture when she rudely advised Chinese-speaking students to stop infecting the campus with communication skills that could hinder their ability to prosper in an all-White existence.
“I encourage you to commit to using English 100 percent of the time” on campus or in professional settings, the email states.”
Neely offered to step down from her position, and while to most, it would seem that she has demonstrated her genuine regret for exposing her bigotry on a grand scale — the truth is that her misguided actions represent most of White America.
Twenty years ago, none of these incidences of outright racism would’ve elicited the strong response, and immediate acquittal of the perpetrators.
And I’m certain of this because twenty years ago — White people in America were literally fascinated and supremely impressed by my British/Nigerian accent when I arrived here to begin my college studies. It was almost unfathomable that someone who looked like me, could speak even better than a White person.
I have the spirit of Nigerians to thank for my expert assimilation because they were and probably still are quite taken by the English accent because of the uppity vibe that permeates the engagement, and the way it signals your prominent background.
When I was in boarding school in Lagos, Nigeria, I do recall how the biracial girls won all the beauty pageants because of the exoticness of their beauty, and how the lighter-skin, light eyes and hair that didn’t need the burn of relaxers to shine — elevated their value in the eyes of regular Black girls who worshipped what they didn’t have.
White supremacy erased our primal call when the British invasion made landfall, and systematically reduced our superior heritage to smithereens with the falsehood of our inferiority — based on the “brutish” characteristics that were graded with inefficiency of how we needed to be clothed in English suits and gowns, juggling tea cups and biscuits and spouting out the Queen’s English with the stamp of borrowed elitism.
Nigeria hasn’t halted recognizing the language that weaponized us, as the official method of communication, while the native tongue that sprouts into roster of purposed dialects — remains in the background as evidence of what can’t ever be reclaimed.
When I was a youngster, the “English way” was the only way, and the upper-class Nigerians who were able to travel to Britain for holidays, had the automatic air of superiority, compared to lowly counterparts.
Those who couldn’t formulate the proper delivery without fumbling, were branded illiterates for failing to participate in the wordplay of a language, that was introduced by bible-wielding oppressors, who used English as the bargaining chip for the lifetime supply of our treasured resources, at the expense of our pride and survivability.
For those who claim my generation, and onward, we can attest to the fact that our Nigerian parents who sought higher education in developed countries, and returned to their under-developed native land with high expectations, did their children a great disservice with the deprivation of our cultural compass.
Perhaps, some were lucky enough to have Nigerian relatives who only spoke the language that our colonial masters worked very hard to eradicate. But in my case, English was the language of choice in our household, whenever my siblings and I were being formally or informally addressed. Igbo was absolutely spoken, but only by and for relatives who weren’t born abroad.
If you hit the lottery with a foreign birth in places where snow falls, you were seen as a golden goose, because of the richness of being conceived in the land of the White man, and so in order to protect our supremacy, we couldn’t lose the currency of our fortune by perfecting fluency in Igbo, and letting our mastery of English perish without a trace.
It’s not like I chose to speak English better than Igbo, and even though I rarely worried about how hard I struggled to mimic my Nigerian-born cousins who spoke both Igbo and English with effortless chic — the piled up years and fretting of my guilt-ridden parents, who wish they had done things differently— leaves me bereaved over the loss of what the White missionaries stole with the daggers of Christianity.
The English language is overrated, and it’s also a form of terrorism when you consider how White supremacy initiates the themes of how ethnicity has to be cleansed with the recognizability of earned prosperity.
I can’t imagine exiting this world without the pained understanding that I spent my lifetime perfecting the language that irrevocably destroyed ancestral bonds, and sealed the fate of generations to come, by setting up trade deals, that would enrich the British empire and beyond, while ensuring that Black natives would drown in the filth of White greed, and the lethal legacy of self-hatred.
I’m inconsolable at the notion that I hardly paid homage to my heritage in all my years of adulthood, because I was too immersed in the habitual need to construct perfect sentences in English, and how that supremeness ridicules my present disposition of blaming the English for paralyzing a robust nation, that didn’t need deadly interference, but ended up succumbing to the oppression of Whiteness as the fateful compromise.
How dare White folks attempt to pick and choose which languages make the cut for decency and tolerability.
Why is speaking French, German, Swedish, Norwegian and all the other European fare regarded as a distinctively enviable trait worth pursuing, but languages that are assigned to cultures that don’t fit the respectable and symphonic aesthetics, that meet the hypocritically biased standards of Whiteness, are valued too offensive for assimilation into civilization.
The increasing outcry by notable White folks with the audacity of their high-browed outlook, that narrows their palettes in the realm of being fully serviced, regardless of specific locations, is an exercise in the persistence of White nationalism.
White Americans complain about vacationing in Paris, and not having the respect of English-speaking literature, that spares them the headache of actually trying to give their surroundings the attention it deserves by expanding their limited vocabulary — even for one day.
Imagine being born in a country so grand, that it would make the “English-speaking Wakanda” seem like a pebble in the sand, and being forced to mature into the acceptance that White people will always be your masters.
The invaders not only tore apart your birthright — they also taught you to curse your Blackness with the language that you punishingly command with excellence, while your mother tongue languishes with the neglect of your unfulfilled promise for a vengeful reunion.
White supremacy is more than just a buzz phrase, it was and is the methodical approach of nefarious White mercenaries, who only speak shithole languages while loading ships with barrels of oil — headed to the ports where the English language reigns supreme.