Whoever advised Nigerians to go abroad, work hard and mind their business may need to explain what, exactly, he meant by “their business”.
Apparently, it includes the government.
At least four Nigerian-Americans have won their races in the American midterms. Will Jawando won the Montgomery County executive race in Maryland. Junior Ezeonu is heading to the Texas House. Oye Owolewa won a seat on the DC Council, while Carol Kazeem retained hers in the Pennsylvania House.
These are substantial additions to the usual business of settling abroad. Finding somewhere to live, securing an income and getting the children into school would ordinarily provide enough occupation for a reasonable person. Now somebody has added an electorate to the list of people whose complaints require attention.
I admire the courage. Being able to pay one’s own rent is already a respectable programme of government.
Ezeonu’s story particularly interests me. Born in Onitsha, he moved to Texas as a child. At 27, he has won a place in its legislature. A child taken abroad to be raised has grown into an adult entrusted with helping to govern the place. Somewhere along the way, the question changed from how to make a life there to what kind of life other people should be able to make.
That is quite a development.
It also makes me wonder how long a person is supposed to remain a guest in the place he calls home. Until the accent disappears? Until he can discuss the weather without sounding personally offended? Until his children begin correcting his pronunciation?
[The children, I suspect, will start that assignment quite early.]
There is a peculiar restraint that can accompany migration. You are trying to establish yourself. You have paperwork to sort out, bills to pay and relatives who would appreciate evidence that the journey was worth it. Getting involved in public affairs can look like an unnecessary addition to an already ambitious survival plan.
It is understandable. Peace of mind is a legitimate ambition.
Unfortunately, the people making decisions about your neighbourhood have not agreed to leave you alone simply because you have agreed to leave them alone. Their decisions will still arrive in your rent, your commute, your children’s classrooms and the services available to your family. You may decline an interest in politics; the consequences will find your address.
The Nigerian-American victories offer an encouraging answer to that predicament. People with connections to the places we came from are taking responsibility in the places they call home. There is room to celebrate that without appointing every successful candidate personal assistant to the entire diaspora.
Their offices have limits. So does the wider Democratic victory, which has delivered control of the House and Senate while counting continues in some races. Congress can scrutinise the administration, challenge funding and resist legislation. Trump retains executive authority and a veto. Families hoping for immigration relief will still have to distinguish an election result from an actual change in policy.
Congratulations are considerably easier to process than legislation.
For those of us in Canada, I think the more useful question is what involvement looks like where we live. It could begin with understanding a local issue, attending a public meeting, asking a candidate a proper question or voting when eligible. There is work to do well before anybody needs a campaign photograph.
And there is no requirement to become an expert in every argument taking place on the internet. Knowing why a service in your own community is failing would be a useful start.
The achievement worth carrying away from these elections is the possibility of belonging with responsibility: building a life somewhere and helping to shape the conditions under which other people build theirs.
We may have to revisit that advice about minding our business.
Some of what happens in the place we call home is, after all, our business.