I’ve been thinking recently about the British law which allows that government to deport foreigners it deems to be guilty of hate speech. It has been used to deport Islamist clerics it considers to be “preaching hatred” and also to refuse entry to a virulently anti-Muslim Dutch MP. The law has come in for a lot of criticism from all ends of the political spectrum, but it got me thinking about a problem closer to home: the Afrophobic Expat.
You know the type — they LOVE Africa and its wide-open spaces, its big skies and fantastic weather. But they’d love it just a bit more if there weren’t any actual Africans here to spoil it for them. They are the type that escape their mediocre existences in tiny, frozen or rain-sodden countries to come out here and lord it over the locals, developing a superiority complex to make up for the fact that they were nothing special back home. The type that enjoy a lifestyle here they could never afford in Europe, but who nonetheless never miss a chance to explain away every mishap by saying “That’s Africa — what do you expect?”
They are the types who get oh-so-worthy jobs in conflict-torn countries and then brag about their sexual conquests of starving 14-year-old girls and how they “pay” them with jars of mayonnaise. They see no irony in using this as an example of “lax African morals”. They liken Africa to a rotting carcass, but get angry when you point out that if that is true, they must surely be the vultures pecking at the remains.
These are people who can see nothing good or decent or worth celebrating about our continent. They are the people who make comments about us, in our own land that they would not be allowed to make in their home countries, the kind of hate-filled comments that would get them locked up in Europe.
Now, don’t get me wrong: I am all for freedom of speech, I am all for robust criticism and intelligent debate. I suppose what really sticks in my craw is the way they pronounce on issues from service delivery to sexual violence in tones that imply that no one else in the country has ever even thought about, never mind engaged with these concerns — as if our newspapers and blog sites and radio stations don’t debate these issues at great length every day, seeking out the views of activists, analysts and academics as well as ordinary citizens. (And yes, we KNOW our president can’t seem to wrap it up or zip it up: but guess what — neither could Bill Clinton or Silvio Berlusconi yet I don’t hear you damning the whole of America or Italy because they too elected horny old men).
What I cannot tolerate is the way they recycle fourth-hand anecdotes until they achieve the patina of “truth”, so vehement are they in telling fairy tales like the one about how “white people are not allowed to work in South Africa because of affirmative action”. And when you dare to contradict them, the reaction is hysterical and furious; the reaction of people who don’t want to let the facts get in the way of a good story.
I recently had the temerity to challenge one of those types who adopt the “Old Africa Hand” persona, while he was holding forth to some of his recently arrived countrymen. I pointed out that in nearly a decade of doing labour-dispute resolution I had never come across that fabled being: The White Man Fired From His Job So They Could Give It To a Black Man. I also pointed out that while I don’t agree with Jimmy Manyi on much, a cursory look at the appointments page of any newspaper or the list of directors’ remuneration will show that white men are still firmly on top in our workplaces.
I was immediately subjected to a racist diatribe in which I was accused of being “politically correct” and warned that one day I would wake up and find the whole continent had collapsed and it would be TOO LATE! I didn’t stick around to ask “too late for what”, as a wise woman does not argue with a fool.
What enrages me is that the Afrophobic Expat doesn’t raise these issues because they are interested in finding solutions, but because they want to buttress their racist belief that all Africans are mentally deficient children incapable of running their own affairs (and that we should never have been let off the colonial leash in the first place).
Of course, not all expats behave or think like this and I have worked with many wonderful people from all over the world who appreciate and value Africa, and want to help find solutions instead of simply being part of the problem. Unfortunately they are nowhere near being in the majority.
A friend of mine recently had a knock-down, drag-out fight on this very topic with a French expat who has spent most of his adult life working on this continent for a multilateral organisation and enjoying the concomitant lavish lifestyle. Did he retire to Paris or Provence? Did he heck! Nope — he will be spending his old age in a huge house in Houghton, with hot and cold running servants, from whence he will continue to pour Gallic scorn on Africa and all things African.
What I just can’t fathom is why — if they really find life in Africa so odious — they insist on staying here and spewing their bile at us? Par example I love France, I really do — all those darling patisseries, divine boulangeries and celestial chocolatiers. The thing is, though, I couldn’t live with the French whom I find (on the whole) to be arrogant and racist. So I don’t live there. Simple, really. But if I did choose to live there, I’d like to think I’d have more grace than to angrily lash out all the time at the French for, well … being French.
We have had Europeans coming here for hundreds of years and telling us how crap we are — and we’re tired of it! So maybe our government should spend less time blocking the asylum and immigration applications of our brothers and sisters from other parts of Africa and set their sights on those expats who wish we didn’t exist.
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