Baba Galleh, thanks for narrating your experience/observations of the
African-American "Attitude" towards the African.  In the interest of
balanced reporting, could you also please narrate your experience or
observations of African "Attitudes" toward African-Americans.  This way your
readers can decide whether the perceived attitude is one sided or coming
from both sides.  I look forward to that read.

Chi Jaama

Joe Sambou


America's Black Enigma

The Independent (Banjul)

COLUMN
April 1, 2002
Posted to the web April 1, 2002

Baba Galleh Jallow
Banjul

I can never cease being fascinated at what I would call America's Black
Enigma. The complex question of the black presence in America, how black and
white America are struggling with the very thorny question of integration,
and how blacks treat blacks, particularly how most African-Americans treat
or behave towards their African cousins who are becoming more of a greater
presence in the United States from day to day.

Personally, I have had quite a few interesting, sometimes rather unpleasant
experiences as an African in America. Most of these experiences, I must
hasten to say, occurred during encounters with fellow black people,
African-Americans. In my earlier discussions of black to black relations in
America, I had suggested that there exists noticeable black to black racism.
I had suggested that most African-Americans display a noticeable level of
spiteful condescension towards their African cousins. Indeed, they are
almost always quick to make it clear that they are Americans, lest they are
mistaken for Africans.

This is quite understandable, even if particularly fascinating and even
nauseating. Africa is hardly known in America and the very little knowledge
that goes around is gleaned from television coverage of military atrocities
around the continent. Gruesome footage of the bloody genocide in Rwanda in
1994, gruesome footage of Sierra Leonean babies, children, men and women
amputated by the rebel RUF; gruesome footage of the never ending war in
southern Sudan accompanied by unimaginable scenes of wretchedness and
material depravation. These, among many other negative images, are the
African food from which the average American mind is fed. So that once you
are identified as an African, something clicks in the mind of the person you
are dealing with, and if you are adequately observant, you notice immediate
changes in behaviour towards you. Generally, such behaviour is condescension
or even outright contempt.

The other day, I walked into a CVS pharmacy to buy a bottle of Tylenol
headache tablets. The African-American lady behind the counter smiled and
asked, as they always do, 'may I help you sir?' I gave her the items I
picked from the shelf. 'Do you have a CVS card?' she asked. 'Yes I do?' I
replied, giving her the small red card that entitles customers to a small
discount at the store. 'You are from Africa,' she said, smiling.

I replied that I am, and surprisingly, she continued smiling at me and
looking quite pleasant. She did not, like most African-American salespersons
do, suddenly wear a serious cat face and keep mum or try in some way or the
other to make me feel 'the difference'. 'Oh I would like to go to Africa,'
she said. 'Which part of Africa are you from?' she pursued. 'I'm from The
Gambia,' I replied. 'The Gambia? Where is that?' Being used to that
question, I simply said it was in West Africa.

Very few Americans, particularly African-Americans, know where Africa is,
not to say The Gambia. 'Oh I really would love to go to Africa,' she
repeated. An old, well-built African-American lady standing adjacent me at
the counter said to her: 'Oh baby you gonna waste your life like hell in
Africa.' Then turning to me the same old lady asked, 'Can you cook fufu?'
Presumably, to that old lady, being African meant at least being able to
cook fufu. I had to confess to her though, that I was not privileged to be
able to cook fufu. I was fascinated that that was the only thing she could
think of asking me. Others would ask, can you speak Igbo? Or are you from
Nigeria?

My experience with that CVS lady was an exception to the general rule.

Mostly, sales persons would start out saying the automatic, pleasant, 'may I
help you sir?' when you go shopping in a store. Once, however, you speak and
your accent tells them that you are an African, you generally notice an
immediate change in their demeanor. Often, you notice that they suddenly
assume an air of pious aloofness, or recoil into themselves and try to have
as little to say to you or do with you. Or, they wear a cat face and pretend
to be really serious. If you are particularly lucky, they would try to make
you feel that you are not an American, or conversely, that although they are
black like you, they are clearly Americans, not Africans.

You go into a bank to cash a check. If you are lucky to find a white
cashier, you generally get a quick service. I have noticed that white
people, in most cases, are much nicer to Africans. If, however, there is an
African-American cashier, well, you might be in for a little suspicion. I
have on a few occasions had the sobering privilege of standing there,
enjoying the drama as an African-American cashier would cast suspicious
glances at me, peer skeptically at my ID, go into an inner office to consult
a superior officer, come back again, and, I'm sure, secretly wonder...

It is appropriate, at this point, to indicate that there are many thousands
of African-Americans who earnestly love and adore their roots, and who are
always eager to discuss matters African and proud to identify themselves
with the continent. There also exists a gamut of Africa-oriented or
pro-Africa organisations run largely by black people, such as Africa Action,
the Constituency for Africa, and TransAfrica among many others, that are
committed to the advancement of the African people. It is also important to
note that United States law forbids any form of racial discrimination or
profiling. The problem of black to black racism, if we may call it that, is
highly individual.

Finally, America is plagued by a sickening culture of suspicion,
particularly suspicion of black people; particularly if you are a black
person, not wearing a well-pressed suit with tails, ties and a pair of
shining black shoes to match; particularly if you are an African, not having
smooth cheeks and wearing a well pressed suit, with an air of dazzling
sophistication around you, with a smart Will Smith accent. As I am not in
the habit of wearing suits just for the sake of demonstrating my
sophistication, or assuming a fake accent, I often face similar situations
of suspicion. Such suspicion, I must say, is understandable considering the
high rates of crime, particularly among black people in America. Not that
white America is above crime.

For the African in America, the choices are clear: Either develop a thick
skin, remain who you are, refuse to feel ridiculed and make those who try to
ridicule you into study subjects. Or, go all out to pretend that you are an
African-American and in the process, learn to speak through your nose, incur
mountains of debt, go bankrupt or wreck psychological damage on yourself.

Of course, what I call - inappropriately perhaps - America's Black Enigma,
is too complex and varied to discuss in an essay of this length.

If we are lucky, we might be able to examine other aspects of this
fascinating subject in subsequent discussions. Meanwhile, I am learning to
cook fufu so that if I encountered that sweet old lady again, I could shout
a resounding YES to her very pertinent question: Can you cook fufu?






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