FROM midnight to dawn; the plane moved on an elastic latitude. Doing 12 hours from Lagos to Houston, Texas in United States was a betrayal of the natural coordination of hourly progression. Bumping occasionally under the pressure of a restless cloud notwithstanding, it was a jolly flight; still, I thought that covering 12 hours from dusk to dawn was like having a goat swallow up a cow – that also is not impossible.
There are so many things to ruminate over when leaving a familiar terrain. Your brain opens up to new realities and you are able to see the scene clearer, by standing away from the crowd. It is like proofreading a copy written by someone other than you.
The seeming exodus of summer freaks who filled the vessel of space movement to its brim, provided that mental picture of the human search for some comfort zones. But perhaps the summer attraction is for the white immigrants on that journey; it is disheartening that despite the various campaigns by the Nigerian government, discouraging ‘Andrew’ from ‘checking out’, several Nigerians are still on that rough ride to greener pastures. I thought this was no longer fashionable, but perhaps the model that had since faded away is the excruciating desert experience to Europe through Libya.
A friend who has been crying for a job in Nigeria just moved with her husband and two kids to Dallas. Another one did a hurried traditional marriage in May and has since joined her man in Maryland. Both say they have been able to secure a job and are quite busy. And I begin to wonder how much of our human resources are being traded to develop communities that are already ahead of us. Why must the scapegoat of the biblical mantra of ‘taking from the man who has got nothing to enhance the man who has got plenty’ work on us?I did not stop thinking, even as the United Airlines jet connected passengers to Toronto, buzzing for three hours. That peaceful city in the Ontario province of Canada, a North American country was playing host to the 38th edition of Toronto International Film Festival (TIFF), and I tried to look beyond the film screening, panel discussions and celebrity razzmatazz and continue my journey of the mind.
My classmate in High School; Shola Solomon, a medical doctor now lives in Toronto with his wife and two kids. After writing a professional examination for which he was invited by the organization he now works for, he is marvelled by a society where merit is the order of the day. His wife, who for several years could not get a job in Nigeria with her MBA, has been on the promotion ladder, changing jobs within three years that they have stayed in that country. Shola, who is yet to come to terms with how suddenly a foreign country is carrying his burden, told me how his wife, after winning a staff merit award in her first place of employment, had been invited by other companies. “Every human being is dignified here; irrespective of your colour,” he said glowingly about Canada. He noted that even animals are being treated specially let alone humans. “A child here could cry if you kill an insect” he said, looking at me in the face. And that reminded me of a quiet protest, the previous day, by some vegetarians who hoisted banners along Yonge street, urging people to refrain from the consumption of meat; “you can’t be a meat-eating environmentalist,” one of the inscriptions read.
Driving through the East end of Toronto, an accident scene was spotted, prompting another testimonial talk. The police were there in no time. They’d picked the accident vehicles, irrespective of who the owner is. If the vehicles become difficult to move, they get an aircraft to lift it away. He kept emphasizing on the fact that the police do not need to know who you are to evacuate your troubled vessel. Apart from the legal culture of tips for service boys in hotels and restaurants which, like in the US, is now gaining ground in Canada, you dare not solicit for favour directly or indirectly from anyone in your bid to serve them; a mere joke with it could cause you litigation.
Minimum wage in public sector is at par with the private sector. It’s a community that finds a pride of place in the public sector and where fewer students attend public schools, not because it is more expensive, but because the public schools are more realistic and competitive. I hear that young people are recruited directly from schools and put in the civil service, thinking for the government on the way to go and earning impressive pay packages that leaves no option for corrupt practices. The Canadian government, despite the country’s oil and other natural resources, is known to place high premium on human capacity building. Their belief is that what a man has upstairs is more important than what he has below in the name of natural endowment.
But Shola was not done with his story of awe yet. He is stunned that apart from earning an impressive package, his children are being educated for free; very free in the real sense of the word, with a teacher each for every subject even at primary school level. If there is anything he spends his money on, it is for his house rent and car insurance policy which cost about N50, 000 monthly. And perhaps, on Nigerian food, because food to a Canadian is almost at no cost at all.
Hinting about the medical policy of Canada, Shola got a call one day saying his wife has been hospitalized, but that is nothing to worry about. It turned out that she was rushed to the hospital from her place of work, for suffering the effect of a surgery conducted on her several years back in Nigeria during child delivery. All that was required of him was to come see his wife after the corrective surgery has been done, without having to pay a dime.
I can’t recall how many times my friend repeated to me that Canada is a peaceful country, free for all without incidences of racism. He said unlike America, people are not licensed to carry fire arms. And just then, I thought of these words by Bill Clinton, saying: “In a world darkened by ethnic conflicts that tear nations apart, Canada stands as a model of how people of different cultures can live and work together in peace, prosperity, and mutual respect,” and I remember that the last time two motorists were yelling at one another on King street, it was a Lebanese and an African. And if any analogy is to explain the sociability of the country, we may well consider this: “What is a Canadian? A Canadian is a fellow wearing English tweeds, a Hong Kong shirt and Spanish shoes, who sips Brazilian coffee sweetened with Philippine sugar from a Bavarian cup while nibbling Swiss cheese, sitting at a Danish desk over a Persian rug, after coming home in a German car from an Italian movie… and then writes his Member of Parliament with a Japanese ballpoint pen on French paper, demanding that he do something about foreigners taking away our Canadian jobs.” – Anonymous.
And if I may add; a Canadian is the man who enjoys the endless sequel of an African home movie entitled ‘How To Steal 10 Million Naira’, a film set in Nigeria, but sees it as a mere fiction because it defies all logic.
