A Vote of Identity

It feels good to be back on the keyboard as blogger! I thought the three months break would give me extra time to rest. It has gone by so fast. It’s hilarious how wrong I was about the rest! Nevertheless, I am excited to put all my accumulated tensed thoughts into words again.

Now kicking it off with the final day of the Dutch elections. The monotonous voting results, which made the VVD the largest winning party for the fourth time! Its not the topic I want to discuss, except for the part where I passed polling stations throughout the day with no signs of Africans/ black people standing in the line. Maybe they were already inside voting for VVD, BIJ1, FvD or D66 but not seeing them standing in one of those long queues, caught my attention.

In an attempt to illustrate the event that evening in a Whatsapp group with Nigerians living in the Netherlands. I referred to myself as the only black person in line to vote. Trying to indicate the lack of interest in politics among our people in general. Someone of the group called me out. A subscriber or reader of this blog, I hope. I was asked if I saw myself as black or African. Emotionally I responded, “African off course”! In a rush to explain my point further became indistinct. The “damage” was done.

My mind was absorbed for numerous days with his question and my response. The truth is I don’t refer to myself as black, especially not in an African (Nigerian) setting. But there was no way I could make my point quickly, straight and direct without mentioning black.  Or was there another way?  

Social media clutter and trends have a huge impact in forming perceptions these days. Alongside the “black” community groups I follow on Facebook.  I am curious if I still align with this post, I wrote almost a year ago.  Are my early thoughts, beliefs and perspective on my identity overshadowed by the “hype” of being black?

I don’t have answers for these questions above right now other than why I called myself black instead of African. If I said I was the only African there, it could have meant that non Africans with similar features like mine were present.  To me black exemplifies a group of people with darker skin color and specific features (curly hair, nose, lips, physique, etc). Whether they are from Europe, Asia, America, Arab nation, the Caribbean or Africa, we live in a world that sees color first. Any other thing becomes second or fades away.  

Since BLM in the Netherlands rose in popularity, conforming to the black image and identity went rapid. For me saying I am black without any quotation mark shows I have (un) consciously accepted the fact that I am also part of the black community.

Being called out in the Whatsapp group was brilliant. I needed to reflect again on what my thoughts are presently.

Even as a proud African, there will be times I have to identify myself as black first. The way the system has been set up in this country makes it impossible to avoid the labeling box, which has been here for centuries.  I am still the biggest advocate for any black non African identifying with Africa.

Here is the funny part: in the Netherlands, white Europeans, Americans, Arabs and Asians perceive me predominantly as black.  People from the Caribbean and the Dutch Antilles call me African. Among Africans I am seen as a Nigerian. And Nigerians perceive me mostly as Igbo.

So you see, I don’t have control of the various labels people stick on me. Except for the labels I put on myself. Eventually its the environment that will determine the labels I have to use.  

How do you feel about the labels people put on you? Your thoughts are welcome here.

Images of/from:

Element 5 Digital – Unsplash

Surprised by myself – Chi

Adli Wahid – Unsplash

*Featured Image on top by Manny Becerra – Unsplash

NOTE: last edited date is for the layout and typos/ grammar errors not the content of the post!