THE WAYS WE SHED OUR CULTURE

The fun thing about school is when you sit back and see that you’re actually learning something or you’ve learnt something new. I’ve been working on a term paper about one-way systems, information flow, news flow and how these are affected by cultural imperialism. Really looking into the whole jist about cultural imperialism made me realize that I too am a victim. I realized that I have been imperialized without even knowing it. When I see my younger cousins speaking or replying to their parents in Igbo or being sent on errands in Igbo, I think “are these children not too small for this.” I felt introducing them to the Igbo tongue will distort their English language and make them have a language factor. I questioned why most Igbo people, even those living abroad would come home for Christmas and when I mean home, I don’t mean Lagos. I mean to the village, the east. To me, it made no sense. But looking from it from the perspective of a person that has been imperialized, I see the essence, the importance of coming back to your roots, trying to stay in touch with your cultural heritage. I realized that there were parts of my culture that I had not embraced and for this, I feel extremely ashamed, but this doesn’t mean that I do not love my culture, that I do not love my people. When I go to the market and refuse to pay a ridiculous price for an item, I am told that it’s because I am Igbo and Igbo people love money, in response, I ask the seller if he or she does not like money. I like money and yes, I am Igbo and I wouldn’t change a thing.

“Abum onye Igbo”- (I am an Igbo person), I may not be able to speak my mother tongue fluently or understand some complex things in my culture but I know and say this with an immense sense of pride because I feel like me being an Igbo woman means that I can succeed at anything I put mind to because I come from a people who strive to get what they want. A people who succeed against all odds.