BEING ENGLISH – TABLES TURNED

A very harsh reality hit me very recently, and it was really mind blowing. It was an unexpected but real and classic case of the turning of the tables, roles and fortunes reversed and however else you choose to put it.

Come with me on this trip.

So, I was born in London. A good few years ago. Parents Nigerian who came to England on scholarship, to study and better their lot. It sounded real good. Papa settled down after studies and started working. Momma as well. All going well. They had three children here, and the youngest of them was yours truly.

For some reason, one no one will ever get to fully understand, they chose to move back to Nigeria and we were still quite young. Didn’t have much of a say in the matter when they carted us all and loaded us onto a ship that set sail for Nigeria with all our belongings and decided to turn Nigeria to home.

But it was good. For while we were at school learning to adapt (quite easily I must say) to life in this ‘foreign land’, we enjoyed a privilege. We’d go out with friends and we get introduced as ‘our friends who just came from London’.

There will be those childish arguments over what tense or grammar was the right one (some almost resulting in physical battle among peers) and good old Tunde will be called upon to settle the matter. After all, he was ‘the one from England’ and must know what the correct spelling or tense or use of word or whatever paltry argument it must have been, should be because it is English language. Now that was cool.

Used to have a driver – bless his soul. He took almost every minute of the time he spent taking me to and from school to learn English from a young Tunde because, hey ‘he is from London and must know it all’!

The list of examples is endless. What I am saying is – being English even in the most remote and most unusual circumstances was an absolute privilege at the time.

Then we started growing up. And we noticed that while we were entrenching ourselves in getting to know Nigeria, our contemporaries and even their parents were trying to get out. To go to England – the land of the Queen. Everyone wanted to go to London.

When some of Poppa’s colleagues get informed of the decision of their employers to send them to England for a 10-day training program, excursion or conference, it is greeted with loud and sound ‘congratulations’ like they won the lottery! Never mind the fact that, if their financial and living circumstances were not great before they embarked on that short trip, it still meant they would return to their situations after the 10-day break. Some would have a party just to celebrate a chance to go to London!

It was such a big deal! London was the place to be.

We venture out to Lagos in those days (I remember going to the UK High Commission to renew my passport even as a youngster) and the queues were out of this world. Nigerians queueing up in the sun wanting to get visas to go to…….yeah you got it, London!

The desperation of people was palpable. Everyone wanted to be there.

When I finished school and decided to be a ‘home boy’, following Momma and especially Poppa around like a meek sheep, craving and getting the love and attention from them (poor souls – spoilt me rotten bless ‘em – glad I made them happy though and didn’t abuse it), I always got the occasional rebuke from extended family members.

‘Nigeria is too tough’, they say, ‘I don’t know why you can’t do the right thing and just follow your older siblings’ footsteps by returning to London. What are you finding in this country that is keeping you?’

I smirk and just think ‘these guys don’t even know anything. Momma’s bossom, Poppa’s love and attention is sweet folks. Ain’t gonna get that in lonesome England’.

Tell you what, London was the place to be. Young, old, man, woman; everyone wanted to go to England. It is where they believed all was perfect.

Ok so I made the decision eventually and came out to England. Long story but I did. And that status remained the same.

My Nigerian folks elevated me immediately as ‘the London guy’ and started treating me with good manners. Somehow they erroneously concluded that I was…..’no longer one of them!’ Ouch! That hurt.

I started working in England and somehow, by some stroke of fate, luck or whatever, ended up doing a lot of work on Africa, in Africa. And anywhere I went in Africa in those days, I was accorded certain privileges as….’the guy who came to see us from London’. It still was great.

I am into football. And I covered, reported and supported football in Africa. But when we watch World Cup competitions and all, bar a few skirmishes, the world will still call my attention to ‘how patriotism is great in England where all you guys support your team wholly, rather than the backbiting and destructive reporting of the African media of their very own’! Hmmmmm. Fair point to an extent. But we are not on that at the moment.

England was still the place to be. And people from England were still the ones to know and identify with, as far as many were concerned.

It’s been shaky over the years. But still….go to any UK High Commission or Embassy in Africa and you’ll see how much of an influence this ‘wonderful England’ still has on the world.

Then came 2020. And the entry of the dreaded coronavirus. Yeah, Mr Covid. His visit to the world was meant to be a short one. Just to get people to think seriously about hygiene and good sanitation. To get us to do more of washing hands, sanitise our hands and to stop sneezing and coughing without covering our mouths. To respect social distancing and not make mistakes of hygiene. Then once we realise that there is a way to live healthy and safe, he was meant to go back to where he came from – never to come back again!

Oh but alas. He enjoys the attention he has received over the last 20 months and has refused to go away. Can’t even see the end of this guy in sight, the way we are going.

So anyway, COVID comes and although he became a global problem, it was a global general problem with individually differing solutions. Yes. Because different people and different countries devised different ways of tackling Covid.

Some have had good success. Some are struggling. Those with success have found the need to buffer up at various times. The word ‘lockdown’ became one of the most used words in English history of vocabulary. We went into testing. Then vaccinations. All in a bid to just get Mr Covid to slink back into its shell.

This thing has taken over our lives.

But here’s the thing. It’s brought us to realise just how life really is.

So I’m returning to England, the beauty of London and the influence the Queen’s isles have over the world. I’ll also talk football in this sequence.

The European football championships were scheduled for that year – 2020. Various locations, one tournament. It was meant to be an experience at multiple hosting. And the final was always going to be at…..you guessed right – Wembley Stadium in good old England!

As English people, we were excited. Football finally coming….’home’!

But we had Mr Covid. And he scuppered the initial plan and nothing moved in 2020. UEFA then postponed the games. By one year. And we finally had it this year.

But it was a year in which things started to turn for my good old England.

First was the question of how COVID was handled in the country. The uncertainty, the indecision, and the multiple standards that seemed to trail the ethical behaviour of the supposed custodians of the enforcement of restrictions precautions against the spread of the virus.

And it resulted in the alarming increase in cases of Covid positive people, the strain on the health service through hospitalisations and all, and sadly, the high mortality rate from this menace – Covid!

Suddenly I’m travelling to places in Africa and I’m getting asked by people who always used to get excited at my pending visits, ‘do you think you should make the trip?’ or ‘when was your most recent test?’ And ‘are you ok?’

My African brothers and sisters who always saw England as the ultimate and people from it as next best to angels, are now scared to see or get close to us! I say….Ouch! They feel (and some say it) that Covid is under control in Africa. We don’t need you guys bringing it to us’!

Ouch again!

To the football. I try to make excuses for people because I hate to think they can be really vile for no reason (now deep down I KNOW there are indeed some really horrible people who have chosen to be horrible for no reason but let’s go with my perceived earlier position).

So I’m here thinking Covid, lockdown, the lack of proper human interaction and inter-relations for many months, has taken a toll on many people in England.

They have therefore resorted to taking their frustrations out on their keyboards, keypads and the likes, of their computers, phone and whatever other gizmos they use in spreading vile, disgusting and nauseating hate at people from other races, all in the name of being ‘fans of football’.

The actions of many football hooligans on the streets of London in the run up to the European championship finals was a very far cry from the picture of sainthood that my Nigerian classmates of the 1980s, and my driver of that time had of England.

The intolerance and race hate that enveloped and packaged the history of Euro 2020, dished out in good measure by the English especially after the final, where three upstanding truly, committed  and passionate English members of the England team were subjected to disgusting hate race insults was far from the picture of modernity that England was supposed to embrace.

And suddenly England is no longer this attractive place that everyone wants to visit.

I once had a friend – still very much around but in a really high position and might not even remember this happened. Apparently he visited London in the 1990s. And picked up an apple in a store. On his way back to where he was staying, he took the apple and sunk his teeth in it, ‘crunch’.

His host asked ‘oh why are you eating the apple without letting us get home to rinse it first?’  He took a look at the apple in his hand and asked ‘oh do I need to rinse it first? Aren’t we in London?’ Then ‘crunch’ he took another bite, unrepentantly!

My friend thought that London is so clean that everything from here is clean to the point of not requiring washing.

If he could have fast forwarded his thoughts to see the chaos and filth on the streets of London after the Euro finals of July 11 2021, he would wish he had thought twice before sinking his teeth in that crunchy apple that many years ago!

This is the story of what England has become. Perhaps what it always was, but brought clearer to light by Mr Covid. I blame him!

So here we are. England filled with yobs, drunken, disorderly and racist people and an authority that hasn’t been able to deal with their menace for so many years.

So when it all settled, I decided to embark on a journey to nearby Europe. Just to attend a short meeting.

I sauntered to the checking desk at the airport and presented my documentation. The pretty check-in clerk looked at me and very pleasantly asked questions she needed to ask, to which I responded as satisfactorily as I knew I was able to.

Then she entered a few bits on her computer and instead of presenting me with my boarding pass, she just asked me, ‘sir, I’m told you need to have a valid work reason for travelling to your destination’. I had what she needed but I asked out of interest ‘but why? I see a lot of people here travelling and they don’t need as much as you’re asking’.

And her response drove me to write this. She said ‘the government of your destination country has said UK citizens coming in to their country are banned from entering unless they have something essential to do’.

And, rather belatedly it hit me, the English, England, the land of the Queen, are suddenly the most undesirable people in the world – they are the football hooligans, the racists, the online bullies, the public disorder magnates, the refuse dumpers, the ones who opted to leave a United union to the detriment of its citizens and with minimal regard for what it means to international partners and its people’s prospects in the wider world…..and the biggest carriers and transporters of the unprotected spread of Covid.

Nobody wants us anymore. No one respects us. The English are living on a name that just sounds big in name but in conduct and reputation, I’m afraid, it’s just…..’ouch’.

And it made me sad. How the tables have turned.

We now have a multi-perceived England that leaves a sour taste in the mouths of more and more people.