We are Africans, not Bulldozers

WE HAVE a door that has been giving us problems for a while, so we invited a carpenter who stays in our area to fix it. Lo and behold, he brought along his wife, two hyperactive kids, an older one, and their dog. I’m sure the cat wasn’t home when they left, or else it would have joined the procession. That has to be the height of being unprofessional.

This carpenter, like us, is from Zimbabwe. I suppose he just assumed it would be OK for us to get to know each other’s families, and that would not have been wrong. But he didn’t ask if we wanted to meet his family and whether it was convenient to bring them at the time he brought them.

My husband and I always argue about just rocking up on people’s doorsteps without prior arrangement. While driving to one place or the other, he might just decide to drop in on someone who stays along the way without calling first. I’m against that. What if people don’t feel like entertaining that day? What if you just budge in while they are in the middle of a fight, or about to have sex? “We are Africans,” he always argues. “In our culture you don’t need to give appointments. We are hijacking white people’s culture by demanding appointments”, he says.

Culture is supposed to be a good thing that defines us and fills us with pride, but I wouldn’t be caught dead celebrating something that corners the next person. It should be something we are keen to impart to our children and hope they pass down to their own. But with the way it’s revoltingly misrepresented, especially by the menfolk, if I never hear anyone mention doing something in the name of culture, it will be too soon. I have noted that people usually put down all oppressive machinations to culture, because they can’t think of another way to justify their cruelty.Men demand that women behave or serve them in a certain way because “culture says this and that”. It’s time we told the men in our lives, “OK so culture says that, but you are not culture, so what do you say? Do you feel this is fair at all?” If a man loves his woman, he should also want to know what she says and how she feels about everything that affects her, not just enjoy lording over her because culture put him in that advantageous position. Culture, my foot. What about love, friendship, and harmony in relationships?

I’m not one to just take to other people’s cultures for the sake of it, but I don’t hesitate to adopt those attributes I regard as positive. I, however, categorically deny that I’m representing another culture by demanding to be treated fairly and being given notice when people plan to visit me. That’s just how I prefer to have things done. I would not like to enjoy life at the expense of somebody else. I do not like showing up on people’s doorsteps unannounced, and I certainly don’t want anyone showing up on mine unannounced either, particularly if they expect me to wait on them. I’m really not prepared to run around cooking and doing all sorts of things impromptu. My life is hectic enough without people imposing themselves on me.

There was a time when I was studying for important exams and some people called to tell me they were at my gate at home. I told them I was at the library, expecting they would do the right thing and head back where they had come from. “We’ll just park outside and wait for you,” they said. I did go back, bowing to the pressure of not wanting to seem unAfrican by turning away visitors. I resented their company that day, even though they are very dear to my heart. Why didn’t they use their phones to call me about their intention to come before just showing up? I’d have let them know I was not available. I really wanted to study!

This has been a long and winding tale, but the bottom line is this: I’m really outraged by people who put down bad habits or behaviours to being African, to culture. Behaviour like some men demanding that their wives wash their dirty underwear, skid marks and all – because African women are supposed to do that for their men, encouraging obesity in women on the premise that a fat woman is really the ideal African woman. There’s a host of them and I abhor them all, especially bulldozing into other people’s houses without appointments because “Africans don’t need appointments, they are very accommodating”.