“It makes us uncomfortable when it’s reported in western media, but we can’t sugar-coat reality – it’s dangerous: that reality could explode at any time”.
– Remi Adekoya
During a recent trip spent travelling across Nigeria, a banker friend of mine advised me to “keep things positive” if I ever shared my observations in “western media”. I pointed out Nigeria is currently in dire economic straits; many civil servants haven’t received a salary this year, pensions are going unpaid, people are struggling to feed their families and children are actually starving to death in the country’s north-east. “Writing about it won’t help those people. And you know negative western media stories on Africa only make these white folk and others look down on us,” my friend replied. Over the years, I’ve heard similar sentiments expressed by numerous middle- and upper-class Nigerians.
When it comes to western media coverage of Africa, the continent’s privileged classes are usually more concerned with the perceptions created than with the realities depicted. They find images of suffering Africans annoying because these “perpetuate negative stereotypes”. The actual suffering rarely elicits as much outrage as the fact it is being exposed for the world to see.
Meanwhile, whenever I chatted with regular Nigerians, once they heard I’m a journalist (in Europe), they’d say something like: “Make sure people over there know we are suffering here,” or “Let them know how bad things are in Nigeria, someone needs to talk to our government.” The last thing on their mind was how Nigeria’s image might suffer in the process.
It is middle-class intellectuals and the political or business elite who love to complain about how Africa is “misrepresented” in western media, not the poor and oppressed who are the subject of that reporting. The latter welcome anybody willing to listen to their stories. But the privileged classes resent seeing Africa’s widespread poverty on display. Instead, they demand “balanced media coverage”. That sounds perfectly reasonable, but what exactly do they mean?
For instance, 62.6% of Nigerians currently live in poverty, compared to 27.2% in 1980. Yet for some Nigerians, “balanced media coverage” amounts to talking up the latest individual success story as evidence that the country is “making progress”. What kind of progress sees the percentage of people living in poverty more than double since 1980? Of course, inconvenient statistics can always be brushed aside.
In 2014 the World Bank reported that Nigeria had the third highest number of poor people in the world. The then president Goodluck Jonathan bristled at the suggestion, saying: “If you talk about ownership of private jets, Nigeria will be among the first 10 countries, yet they are saying that Nigeria is among the five poorest countries.” Furthermore he pointed out Aliko Dangote, a Nigerian businessman, “was recently classified among the 25 richest people in the world”. Wasn’t this proof Nigerian poverty is grossly exaggerated?
Jonathan’s ludicrous response aptly illustrates the prevalent attitude within the privileged classes. It is a combination of denial bordering on the delusional coupled with a post-colonial hangover – emotional responses which attempt to shout down unpleasant statistics and imply that whenever the western world talks of African poverty, the aim is to paint the continent in a bad light.
Constant reports about violence, famine or dysfunctional governments help nurture the racist-colonialist narrative
There are other, more personal reasons, why the better-off are irritated by press coverage. It is the privileged classes who come into contact with foreigners in international settings. They are the ones who attend global conferences, send their children to western universities and conduct business abroad. They understandably want to be treated as equals by those they encounter in such settings. No one likes being patronised. So they get peeved when they see news stories on starving children or violence in Africa because they know this helps shape the manner in which their countries and – more importantly – they themselves will be perceived abroad.
Then there is the irritation stemming from the knowledge that the constant reports about violence, famine or dysfunctional governments, however well-intentioned, help nurture the racist-colonialist narrative that Africans are generally incapable of efficient self-rule. This is at once extremely frustrating and worrisome, especially for well-educated Africans who, as individuals, feel no less capable than their European or Asian counterparts. Yet the tragic news stories just never seem to end.
I’ve experienced such feelings, and they are not easy to deal with. They force you to grapple with some uncomfortable questions to which there are no easy answers. For instance, why is it that half a century after independence, one is hard put to name an indisputable African success story (save perhaps tiny, 2-million strong Botswana)? Such disturbing realities can easily make one overly defensive in reactions to outside portrayals of Africa. The defensive-aggressive posture is a coping mechanism. But we can’t wish away reality just because it makes us uncomfortable.
So while I know there are racists out there who want Africa to fail just to confirm their prejudices, who snigger gleefully at every “proof” of African ineptitude, I cannot let my annoyance at their scorn cower me into being embarrassed to speak frankly about the disgraceful conditions in which most Africans live. Besides, the truth is that the only thing that can truly bury the racist-colonialist narrative is a prosperous and successful Africa. Without that we will forever find ourselves on the defensive.
“Constant reports about violence, famine or dysfunctional governments help nurture the racist-colonialist narrative”
Nigeria, being Africa’s most populous country and largest economy, remains its greatest potential. But the country’s privileged classes must first stop trying to downplay the extent of Nigerian poverty just because it makes us look bad. This is not just selfish, it is dangerous, for the poor are not going anywhere. On the contrary, their numbers are growing thanks to Nigeria’s current population boom. Add to this a ballooning youth unemployment rate and the 350 million illicit handguns the UN says are circulating in the country, and you have a ticking time-bomb.
It’s time the well-off in society stopped trying to sugar-coat Nigeria’s harsh reality and expect the status quo to continue undisturbed. Otherwise, that reality could soon explode with a vengeance. By then, western media coverage would be the least of every Nigerian’s problems.
