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The writer,
Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie hits the nail on the head when she calls the
West on their obsession with the single story of gore that is their
Africa. Adichie is absolutely right: In the West, the power of the
single story races through cash registers and rifles through white
liberal pockets and rich racist valleys. However, there is the
implication that the single story is mostly the product of the other
(aka white person). Lately the single story has been bred, watered and
nurtured for profit by some African hustler-writers. I am talking of
people writing to the test of Western hunger for the stereotypical.

Whites are not the
only ones that climax to the beat of stereotypical African stories.
With all due respects, the bulk of contemporary African writing is all
about the single story that the white world loves. Indeed, several
African writers have over the years focused on the single story for
profit. These writers will probably ask you, what else is there to talk
about? And I agree, for different reasons.

Take Nigeria for instance;
there is only one single story. What our thieving leaders are doing to
Nigeria, is quite simply black on black crime. To tell any other story
would be criminal. In that respect, our writers are right to turn their
rage inwards and shame our leaders with a single story – the fate of
the fabled tortoise that borrowed feathers from birds, flew with them
to a feast in the skies and tricked them out of every morsel of the
feast. In that fable, the enraged birds sent the tortoise crashing down
to earth sans borrowed feathers. Let us send our leaders the way of the
greedy tortoise. The good people of Tunisia just sent their thieving
tortoise packing.

Achebe’s essay,
‘Today the Balance of Stories’ speaks to the racism inherent in stories
about Africa as told by Western writers and the occasional accomplice
of color like VS Naipaul. Adichie’s Single Story speech is essentially
Achebe’s seminal essay set to (YouTube) video. The new medium is not
The Book. It is called YouTube. Ideas rock and books are finding their
way into garden mulch. Think about it. Achebe is a prophet rendered
mute by advances in technology. In Adichie’s video testimony gone viral
on the Internet, Achebe’s great words are re-born. YouTube says we
ought to take a break from writing books and return to the oral
tradition of our ancestors.

Adichie represents
how things used to be and what to hope for in the Nigeria of our
dreams. Sadly, she is a painful stand-out from the forest of mediocrity
that now insists on respect. And hers is a thoughtful and inspiring
speech. But then, why are we running around assuring people that we
really are human beings? Why are we so defensive about our humanity and
why do we proclaim our humanity by denying in installments, all about
us that is authentically African? Why must we quote mostly Western
authors to prove that we are indeed learned? What is wrong with our
food? The French eat snails; it is not more appetising because they
call it escargot.

Why must we hide the fact that some of us relish
sautéed termites and loudly proclaim our love of caviar er fish eggs?
Many of us, especially our leaders have a complex about our African
heritage. Let us think deeply about these things. Our psychosis is more
than skin deep.

Heads ought to bloody roll for what has become of Nigeria under
civilian leadership. How can things be this bad in a land just bursting
at the seams with some of the best resources the world has? How can
people ignore the fact that there are no roads, there is no light, no
water, no safety and security, no health care facilities worth using
and the educational system has virtually collapsed? Our educational
system is so bad many of our Nigerian “professors” refuse to allow
their children in their own classrooms. What other stories are there to
tell of Nigeria? I am really beginning to believe that our people
deserve what they are getting.

Take Abuja; basically thieving
intellectuals, civil servants and politicians have carved up all the
choice land for themselves and shoved everyone else to the far
outskirts to live like sub-humans. And the people seem happy about it,
happily going about their daily business of begging thieves for crumbs.
If we really believe we are human beings like the white man, we should
be fighting this black on black crime.

As a people, we should take a
deep breath, stop the navel gazing and reflect on why five decades
after Achebe’s ‘Things Fall Apart’ we are still lecturing the white man
on the need for respect. It is hard to respect what the eye sees. There
is not much to respect in the shame that has become Nigeria. If we
urinate in our living room, how can we demand that visitors respect
said living room? Anyway, my point is this; we are our own worst
enemies.