Expectations of African immigrants to Europe

In the pre-colonial period, Africa as a continent had its own structures and institutions. These
institutions were meant to cater for the well being of the members of the society. There were many
different cultures and beliefs, not only between different nations but also within the nations
depending on the ethnic backgrounds. People lived in harmony and traded with each other freely
without boundary conditions. Informal and oral education was the main media for passing
knowledge to the others. Even though there were no telephones or snail mail services in those days,
message was passed by using errand boys who could walk or run long distances to deliver them. In
some societies, horns and drum beats were used as a medium of communication in times of danger
or in order to convene a village meeting.

However, the advent of the wazungu colonialists changed a lot of things. One, the partitioning of
the continent into regions. The other was the introduction of tribal hatred to facilitate their ruling, by
what is known as divide and rule method. This created animosity between different tribes and
nations within the African continent. The colonialists also introduced imperialism and abolished
some of the traditional institutions and cultural practices which they considered inferior.
Introduction of formal education and forced migration from rural areas to town to work for the
colonialists further compounded the problem. With the vast wealth and technology they had, this
made the impression to some of their servants that their masters must have come from the land of
honey and milk. This brings the genesis of the need and desire to live in those lands, given the
introduction of new culture and currency. As the say goes a change is as good as a rest so some
Africans simply wanted change in order to experiment what it is like to live in the western world. In
the colonial times, some of the servants who were considered to be academically potential were sent
to their master's countries for further education and later on handed white collar jobs by the masters.

Talk of Hollywood and the nice television series about the wealthy living in the western world, the
mega advertisements showing all the nice tourist destinations in Europe and the standard of living
with bath tab, electricity, good roads, cars and all that. The media has in most cases portrayed
Europe as a good place to live and even most books about her, shows all the good achievements that
have evolved in the continent. Coupled with the nice fairy tales of good Europe is the presence of
tourists who flock most of the African beaches and hotels. These tourists, mostly on a short period
visit to Africa usually flush a lot of money and spend heavily, they hardly mingle with the locals
save for their tour guides and hotel attendants. However, there has been a constant trend whereby
these tourists have been narrating different stories to the locals they interact with about the positive

things in Europe and some have even promised job opportunities or marriage ties. Given the large
difference in the exchange rates between their currency and the local currency, tourists usually give
a lot of tips, use expensive means of transport and go to the places some of the locals could not
afford to go to. In most of the beach areas, these wazungus either inter-marry or pay a big sum of
money for people working on the beach to lure them to have sex with them. This to the poor little
ones is a dream come true.

I remember one time when visiting Nairobi and went for a night out with a friend, at the door of the
club came a local lady with her mzungu. There was a queue to get into the club and fortunately, we
were the next to be allowed inside. However, the lady came with her man and tried to get in before
us; furious at her behaviour, I requested her to obey the order and go back to the end of the queue
and wait for her turn as everybody else. She looked at me from head to toe and whispered to her
mate something who did the same thing and then she retorted in Swahili nini mbaya na huyu
mwafrika, huoni niko na mzungu? Sina time na maskini kama wewe. This roughly translated to
English means What is wrong with this African, can't you see I'm with a white man? I have no
time for a poor bastard like you. This did not go down well with me but my friend told me to let it
go and so I played it cool till we were inside the club. I went for my normal shot of whisky and a
glass of beer. While on the counter, I spotted them sitting in a group with the lady's friends
enjoying. I advanced to their table and humbled myself to offer an apology for my remarks and seek
to know the details of the white lad.

Feigning ignorance and blunt stupidity, I introduced myself as a son of a farmer from the rural area
and came to collect for my father some money from the farmers co-operative society thus was not
well versed with the city manners and endeavours. To my dismay, the lady was really pleased to
hear that I was lower than her in ranking and started telling all the good things that go with dating a
white person. They met in the city where the lady was working as hotel receptionist, the man used
to talk to her kindly and even bought her nice clothes, been gentle and now brought her and her
friends for a treat in an exclusive club in town. To that extent, I was still more interested but I
almost lost my breath when she told me that the man has promised to secure for her a good and well
paying job in Europe so that she doesn't have to live on meagre income. I did not want to raise an
alarm, so in a soft tender voice I asked the man who actually was really rude to me from the
beginning from which country in Europe he was. It took him some time before he could answer and
then retorted Sweden. I requested my friend to go and get for me another one of those whiskies as
now things were getting elephants given that I live in Finland. Having drowned the contents and
putting the glass aside, I threw another salvo to the gentleman asking So which town do you come

from? This didn't go down with the Mr. Sweden, he fidgeted in his chair for a while, looked at me
angrily and then finally asked What do you care because even if I tell you it wont make any
difference for you don't know the country....been to Europe? At this point, having enough whisky
and beer in my system, I almost said yes but something restrained me so I took my time to clear my
mind and answered kindly. I've not been to Europe but I just asked out of curiosity Being
convinced that this is a village boy, he confidently answered that he is from Oslo, and gave the lady
a hug and a reassuring look that this adversary has been finally slaughtered. At this point I could not
hold it anymore, so I excused myself and asked my friend that we go for a dance before going back
to the hotel.

That night everything went on fine and before leaving the club, we exchanged phone numbers so
that we could meet the following day and have some further discussions about Sweden and the
prospects of studying or working abroad. My friend felt that my behaviour was awkward for he
thought it is unfair to play other people. On our way to the hotel, I told him that man listen, I hope
that dude calls tomorrow. I'm curious since Oslo isn't in Sweden. I could have easily given up but
I wanted to see and dig more about the so called Europe. We reached our hotel, bid each other good
night and went to our respective rooms to rest. That night so many questions than answers kept
lingering in my mind. Luckily, due to the overdose of the drinks at the club and the level of
tiredness, I finally surrendered to bed and slept soundly.

True to their word, at around noon still nursing hangover from the previous night, I got a telephone
call requesting for a dinner meeting at around 16.00 in a nice local restaurant where we could eat
some nyama choma (roasted meat). To my surprise, I was now becoming their friend and was
even asked to go with my friend and they'll offer us everything for we seemed to be nice people. I
went to see my friend who was already a wake and reading to deliver the news. He was perplexed,
looked at me inquisitively and then asked Are you out of your mind or are you just kidding me? I
assured him that I was serious but still he couldn't believe it. He looked at me once more and said
bwana, wacha hizi jokes zako (man stop these your jokes). Seeing that I wasn't going to convince
him easily, I retreated to my room but told him to be ready to move by 15.30 to the destined
meeting place. Since it was my last day in Nairobi and had to take a flight the same night, I utilized
the three and half hours before the meeting to finalize parking my luggage and buying some little
stuff for my journey from the nearby super market. When all was set, I gave out the room and kept
my luggage at the reception desk for a small fee.

If you are a village boy and want to traverse Nairobi, it is advisable to walk with a town boy who

knows places. The meeting place was hidden that without the help of my friend, I could have easily
gotten lost. On arrival, we found the man from Sweden and his lady friend who I later learned is
called Naomi waiting for us. No sooner had, we reached than the drinks were offered to us,
followed by some salad, courtesy of Mr. Sweden, this is a nickname I gave him as I didn't
remember his name. Spoons, forks and knives were laid neatly on the table the European style.
The gentleman looked at me, not knowing that I was reluctant to eat just because I was tired from
the previous night, asked me if I know how to use the weapons in front of me to pierce the salads
into pieces. I could have answered in the affirmative but the setting of the question was demeaning
and irritating, I could not expect someone asking me that hey man! Have you ever used forks and
knives? I heard that here in Africa you folks use only your fingers which is actually unhygienic.
This prompted me to answer in the negative and actually I told him that I don't eat salads but would
rather prefer some roasted meat and ugali (polenta or stiff porridge). This made the duo to believe
that I was a real village boy with no idea of what is called balanced diet. Drinks kept coming as we
waited for our orders to come. To prove their civilization, the couple ordered fried chicken with
French fries as me and my friend went for nyama choma and ugali.

The food was served and everybody was ready to embark on eating when Naomi asked Mr. Sweden
sweetie can you please tell the waiter to bring us some of those mayonnaise and the other ketchup
not this dilute one? The request wasn't all that bad but the intonation, hand gesture and the
despising looks in the face all meant to send us (me and my friend) one message you are not
civilized and don't belong to this our class. We requested for water to clean our hands and attacked
that nyama choma and ugali with the gusto never seen before. On the other hand our hosts were
showing lessons of how to do things the right way by chopping into those fries with forks and
slicing the chicken slowly and dipping them in a mixture of mayonnaise and chilli ketchup. They
used the table napkins to wipe their mouths once in a while as we used our hands to clear whatever
fell the wrong way, this seemed to disguise them but it was intentional. During the eating period,
they didn't talk much only for a few giggles and short questions about the food and few lessons
about table manners and how to use those cutleries. We exchanged looks once in a while with my
friend and felt like laughing but we decided to be polite and enjoy the free lessons from the rich and
civilized couple.

Eating was nicely over, bills paid and sitting places shifted from the restaurant side to the bar side to
enjoy some more drinks. This presented a very good opportunity for us to have a free and nice
discussion about Europe as compared to Africa. I wanted to know what is in Europe that is not in
Africa, especially Kenya in this case, why should I leave my farming practice to go to Europe? Why

should Naomi abandon her receptionist job for Europe? What are the possibilities of securing a
better job and living in Europe as compared to my current state? These are the few questions I
wanted the gentleman of Sweden to answer. Before Mr. Sweden could answer, Naomi the lawyer
swung into action to protect her territory by saying Europe is much better than this stupid country,
good roads, jobs and a lot of money. Can't you see how my boyfriend is rich, nice and kind? The
last words were almost mumbled as the two looked into each other and kissed shortly before Mr.
Sweden took the centre stage of taking us through the continent called Europe. He first reinforced
Naomi's sentiments and started to elaborate on each one of them in order to give us a mental picture
of the place. He told us Listen guys, Europe is a nice place and if you want I can someday help you
to get there. You see here in your country the roads are dilapidated; there are lots of flies
everywhere, street kids. Actually there are many criminals and diseases around here. Look at my
beautiful princess, she is such a nice and educated person, but she is not working in the right field.
The stupid boss is reaping her off and paying nothing. At this juncture she turned to the princess
and asked with a tender caring voice Isn't it so sweetie? To which Naomi nodded in appreciation.
After the short break, he continued with the lecture about Europe, he explained to us how easy it is
to get a job and make a big amount of money without too much difficulty. According to the stories,
it was possible to make even more than Ksh. 200,000 (~ 2000) per month without too much
sweat. The roads were smooth and good with traffic light fitted everywhere. The health and living
standards are quite high with every house fitted with hot shower and bath tabs, electricity, and
cooking ovens. There are neither street children nor slums and there are no criminals in the town
who will attack or abuse. Improving the education level is simple and straightforward with
numerous universities offering a variety of courses. He then told us that he had promised to
organize for Naomi a villa of her own and a good job paying up to Ksh. 500,000 (~ 5000 ) per
month. This was more than ten times what she was earning at the time and you could tell her relief
and joy from the look of the face. Given the promise of nice paying job and the facilities that come
with it, Naomi had built an illusion in her mind, that one of a paradise and could not wait for the
time to come for her to reach the Promised Land full of honey and milk.

The time was already 19.00 when Naomi and the prince requested us to go out with them. Given
that my flight was about to leave in four hours and I had only two hours we declined the request.
They tried all their best to convince us to go but we kept looking for excuses, one thing for sure is
that I could not mention the word going for my flight as this could have sounded as a betrayal to
their intelligence. So I simply told them I was too tired from the previous night's parties and have to
wake up the following day in the morning to travel to the country side. We bade each other farewell
and parted our ways. My friend rushed me to the hotel where we picked my luggage and dashed to

the airport to check in the luggage. When having our last drink before going to the plane, my friend
asked me if Europe is really like the guy described, if so why don't we talk about it or seem so
enthusiastic when leaving for Europe as we do when we come home for holidays. To this I replied...
Listen my good friend; I'll answer to that question when we meet again next time. The captain
made the normal announcement, and the safety procedures were demonstrated by the flight
attendants in the plane as usual, all this time my mind was still replaying the episode and wasn't
even listening to what the flight attendants were saying. By 23.40, our plane left the ground
thrusting through the air to achieve the required height. This is when the reality of leaving Africa
again daunted on me and I felt an emptiness and sorrow that I cannot explain in writing.

There is another group of people who keep fascinating me whenever I come across them or hear
their stories told. These are the so-called African returnees, to mean those Africans who live abroad
and occasionally go back to their motherland for holidays. Some of these people stay abroad for
more than a century before getting the guts or as they put it enough cash to go for a visit. There are
two distinct classes of these returnees. Some who come back and take life simple as they were
before going to Europe; this group is not easily noticeable and most of them have really achieved to
great heights by living in Europe. However, there is another very interesting group; the group of
those who stay in Europe for a short time and when they go back to their countries act as queens or
kings. It is fascinating to see how someone can within a very short period of time claim to have
forgotten his mother language and all that goes with their cultures and traditions. This group
contains mostly people who have their origin from the rural areas, poor families or weak academic
background.

I was once sitting with my uncle in a shop in a small village in Kenya when his friend came to pay a
courtesy call to him. We had some soft drinks together and had a lively conversation for a long
period of time. After a while, the friend asked my uncle if I could attend to the shop as they go for
one for the road (term commonly used to mean going for a beer) before he sets off. My uncle
declined his request and told him that we have to wait till my aunt comes since Im from Europe
and thus doesnt understand much about the prices and the mode of his business operation.
He went ahead to say Moreover Ive not seen this nephew in a long time but with you we meet on
a daily basis. The friend was astonished by the revelation that I was living in Europe. He turned to
me, stretched his arm and shook my hand as he introduced himself to me, My name is Vincent, and
you dont look like someone from Europe. I did not quite get what he meant with that until later in
the evening when I joined them for the one for the road.

It is common in many African societies that a child is referenced to by the parents name. The
villagers, if they dont know the exact name of a young person or dont want to name the person
directly, have the tendency of saying the son or daughter of so and so. Having settled for a drink,
Vincent broke the silence. He looked at me again and commented I wish all our sons and daughters
from the village would be like you. This was followed with a heap of praises about my code of
conduct, my dressing style which composed of traditional shoes made of old car tyres, pair of jeans
trousers and a t-shirt. Above all, he was extremely impressed that I could still fluently speak my
mother tongue with pride and even eat ugali using my fingers. All this time, I kept wondering what
is wrong if one keeps the traditional norms; furthermore, I have been in Europe only for three years
and have lived and studied in this village for ages. Instead of thinking to myself, I found myself
asking this question aloud and everybody was amazed. What followed is a narration of how the
African returnees from the village typically behave.

Vincent was not very happy with the behaviour of some of the returnees as they did not have good
manners or respect for the old people. He pointed out to many different people who were raised in
the village and were really respectful and well behaved; upon completion of high school, their
parents sent them to Europe to go and do some further studies. The parents had to hold numerous
fund raising events and to a greater extent part with the little wealth they had like selling cattle,
huge pieces of land, sometimes at throw away prices to raise money for air ticket, passport, visa and
all the other necessities to facilitate the project. This to the parents were a form of investment for
the future as their sons or daughters will one day become rich and send them more money and give
them a better life. Most of them actually really remitted a lot of money to their parents while in
Europe and keep sending more; they have built nice homes for their parents and keep calling quite
often. I listened to Vincent keenly as he registered his dissatisfaction at the behaviour of these lads
who come from Europe. I was still not completely getting why he should complain about these
people if for sure they are sending money and taking care of their families. He then decided tell me
a story of a young man who went to study in Europe.

Listen young man, he started, you can send money to your parents, educate your siblings and
even improve the living standards of your immediate family or relatives but that only is not enough.
We are used to our status of being poor and going around our daily activities as usual without too
much fuss. However, some of these our daughters and sons change quite much when they go to
Europe. Perhaps you could tell me the reason for it. Is it because of money or just some diseases
which get into the brain when you are over there? I had seen some of the returnees and how they
behaved before I travelled to Europe. They usually had a lot of money to spend, could visit new

places and tell different stories, some even contradicting themselves. As Vincent continued
narrating the stories, those memories came fresh to my mind. However, I did not want to interrupt
and so I kept quiet and listened to his story as we called for more rounds of drinks. So he continued,
Do you remember the son of mzee Mbuta who you studied with in primary school? I nodded my
head in acknowledgement without uttering a word because the lad was my classmate and at this
point I could see that Vincent was not very happy. He kept wiping his mouth and moving around as
if contemplating on how to narrate his story to the end. The boy was a very nice person, helpful
and obedient. Four years ago his parents secured for him a scholarship to go and study in England
through some missionaries who came to our church. Well, I dont know what happened but he has
been remitting money quite often and he even sent me some money to renovate my house in
appreciation to the aid I gave him while he was still studying. Remember how difficult it was for
him to complete his high school studies due to lack of school fees? I knew the family story of the
boy quite well since we were neighbours and good buddies. The father was a staunch Christian and
a well respected person. However, as luck might have it, he got retrenched from his job and had to
toil hard in order to make ends meet. Having stayed away during my high school and thereafter
travelling to Europe, I hadnt had any contact with the boy, whose name was Andy, for ages and I
was more of happy for him and at the same time surprised to learn that he was studying in England.

Two years ago, Andy came home for a visit from England. He hired a four wheel drive car, RAV4
and had it fully loaded with all the food stuffs and all other amenities. He brought us clothes and
nice shoes from England. However, after giving out his presents he sat down outside on the shade
looking disgusted. His mother asked him if he was thirsty and wanted some nice, cold boiled water.
To everyones dismay, he refused to drink the water complaining that it was dirty and thus not fit for
his consumption, he instead ordered his younger sister to go to the car and get him his bottled water.
The mother was surprised at this turn of events since Andy liked the mothers boiled drinking water
quite a lot and even boasted of it as being the best drinking water in the world. Word went around
fast that Andy is in town and thus many villagers both old and young came to see their son or
brother and listen to his story and inquire about his life in the foreign land. People were really
enthusiastic and old women brought proceeds from the garden like groundnuts, maize and fruits;
some brought chicken in order to welcome their own back to the village. The mother was ecstatic
and did not want to go away from the presence of her son. Usually, it is the younger sisters of Andy
who make food for the family but that day the mother took the onus of making her best meal for her
son.

Trouble started when an old lady, who is a highly valued member of the village and a long time

family friend made a joke by calling Andy my husband. The gentleman did not take the joke
lightly and asked the old woman to reconsider her statement taking into consideration that she is
much older for him to marry her. The sternness in the voice, the look and the intonation surprised
everybody who was around and the woman almost felt like crying. This is because, it is common in
the village to make such jokes to the people you refer to as brother-in-law irrespective of age.
Actually, before his trip to England, Andy used to joke often with the old woman who constantly
called him my husband and he either called her my wife or simply smiled and shied away at
times.

The food was served and everyone sat on the table in the sitting room of the main house. The
mother led everyone in a prayer to bless the food in line with the family tradition. There were
several different meals from local vegetables, ugali, rice, fish, chicken and many more that were
served. All eyes were tuned on Andy who was given the first priority to serve as he was the visitor
and this was more of a party to celebrate his coming back. He took a bit of chicken and some rice
but did not have anything to do with fish or ugali as these didnt belong to his menu of the day. The
mother had prepared him some curdled milk which was a produce from their cattle but that didnt
taste for him either and he preferred the packed milk from the shop to the locally made.

Time went too fast and the sun was setting when Andy made an announcement that he is tired and
has to go to sleep. The mother, in anticipation of his sons coming had ordered the father to buy
clean beddings for their sons house and arranged the house neatly and welcomingly. The reality of
the matter is that the son having graduated from a village boy to a civilized western scholar was not
going to spend a night in some grass thatched hut in his fathers homestead. He ordered his driver to
start the car as he dug into his pocket, removed a huge chunk of money, gave some to his mother
and some to his father and ordered them to distribute some to the villagers who came to see him. It
was time for him to go and spend night out in a hotel and could only come the following day to visit
in the day time before he travels to the city where he had lots of friends from England waiting for
him. The mother pleaded with the son to stay even just for one night at home so that they could
catch up with their stories till late and promised to make sure that he sleeps comfortably but to no
avail since the decision had been made.

The following day Andy came quite late in the afternoon with a few friends to visit his parents. He
was tired and looked like someone who did not get too much of sleep. The smell of old alcohol and
cigarettes emanated from his breath and filled the room. There was nothing much the mother could
do but only pray and ask his son if he was using alcohol. The answer was casual and in the

affirmative without any further explanations and that ended the discussion about the topic. Having
invested all their resources on their son to study and having no other source of income apart from
remittances from Andy, the parents and other siblings were tongue-tied since they had to depend on
him irrespective of his behaviour. Duration of the stay wasnt that long for Andy had another goodie
in the bag to offer; having sensed that the parents were not happy with what he did, he strolled
around the compound and later asked the parents what they wanted. After a short discussion, funds
were made available to sort out the problem and more pocket money came flying, this time round
even the whole family were taken to the nearby city for dinner on the expensive car and brought
back later with full bellies and more goods for the home.

While in the city with his friends, Andy kept partying every night, spending money like a
millionaire and even forgot that he had promised to give his mother some time slot off his busy
schedule so that they could talk. One evening, he called his parents and asked them to slaughter a
bull and invite the villagers for a party. This was done and in the evening of the fateful day Andy
came home with a couple of friends and a lady who he introduced as his girlfriend. The party was
well organised, food and drinks were in abundance and everyone was satisfied. This served to make
Andy feel better and offered him an opportunity to beg for an apology from the old lady who called
him my husband. Having enough money still to spend, he gave charity to most of the visitors in
attendance and the rest lump sum amount went to his parents. He bade everyone farewell after
eating and all that could be seen behind was the dust rising towards the sky as the car sped off for
the city.
It was getting late and I started feeling tired after being up for a long period of time and the long trip
on those bumpy roads. However, due to the sensitivity of the story and the determination from
Vincent to tell me the whole story and attentiveness of my uncle listening to his friend and
acknowledging, I stayed put and listened to the rest of the story, once in a while asking questions.
One of the major things I wanted to know is if Andy left any of his contacts or if he has been home
of late. What was to follow left me in quandary as I did not know whether to cry or to laugh. He
came home for another visit during the following year in December for Christmas holidays. Things
worsened over the year and the mother and all the family members were weary of the situation with
some even seeking divine intervention to get a solution to the problem and perhaps remove the
curse. On his next visit, Andy was adamant that he cannot go to the village because the people there
were dirty and not civilized. The food, the flies from the cattle manger and everything about the
village made him feel uncomfortable and actually scared him. To add salt to the wound, he couldnt
speak any of the native languages as he had forgotten all that and to him, it was uncivilized if
someone could not express him or herself in English as that was the perfect language in the planet.

The parents, especially the mother whose knowledge of English language was minimal werent
spared the lectures either. Money was supplied in abundance to educate the mother the language so
that she could one day go and visit the land of plenty.

It is a chilly night and after eating dinner, the time is about 21.00 and everybody is gathered around
the small radio in the house to listen to the news. The spin doctor aka government spokesman is
urging scholars in the diaspora to return to the motherland and help build the economy since
democratic space and corruption is something of the past. Before the weather forecast, comes
another good news from the news anchor that EU have given a large sum of money for education
programmes and China is chipping in with almost similar amount for road construction. Not very
keen on what to follow and the digestion process going on, the radio is turned off, night prayers said
and finally it is time to go to bed. Early in the morning, someone comes with a newspaper in the
hand and then sits down and starts to read it aloud. After a while he exclaims Man, I wish I would
live in one of these European countries. Look at this, if they can manage to give us this much
money for aid, what about those who live there? However, the other friend is not so much
interested about the money the government is given; he is a graduate from the university and has
been trying to find job for over two years since he graduated but in vain. He has been visiting
different offices and has left too many applications in all manner of fields. His dream is to get a job
that could help him meet the costs he incurred while studying, pay back his loan and help the
family. He grabs the newspaper, peruses it and then jump to the job vacancies section, a number of
jobs are announced, some of which he had tried to apply to but in vain. Something attracts his
attention before he surrenders the paper back to the owner, the statement made by the government
spokesman urging the Diasporas to come back and help build the economy. With rage written all
over his face, he turns to the friend and pointing at the headline and certain sections of the news he
said this cannot be true. These people only give the jobs to their cronies. Why would they try to
hoodwink people that there are jobs to offer for them yet here we are; many years after graduation.
Actually these people just want kitu kidogo (bribe). Instead of the brothers and sisters in foreign
countries coming back to these corrupt elements I think Im going to start looking for ways of going
to Europe and try to get myself a job there or go for my graduate studies.

Many Africans living within Africa and having not travelled to Europe have got diverse illusions or
rather, mental picture about Europe. This mental picture varies from one society to the other based
on history, exposure and level of education or poverty. In regions where there has been exodus of
the locals to Europe and high level or remittance to the society, many young potential people crave
for Europe as a solution to their problems. The remittances, the raised standards of living of those

whose own reside in Europe and the fairy tales told by the African returnees makes the locals equate
Europe to wealth. This illusion has been so much embedded into peoples minds that most villagers
feel very important and well off if one of their own is in Europe. It is not uncommon to hear a
parent, a brother or a sister uttering words like that is my son/ daughter or brother/sister who is in
Europe with a sense of pride in it.

In towns, especially tourist attraction sites, like beaches, game reserves just to mention a few, the
picture of Europe are formed by the actions and activities of the tourists who mingle with the local
villagers in these areas. Due to lack of formal employment opportunities, the youth tend to turn into
self employed entrepreneurs by being vendors selling mostly locally made goods like baskets,
sculptures and a range of other goods. Some of the youths try to make ends meet by turning into
commercial sex workers for the tourists. It is in these kinds of settings and the large amount of
money given as handouts by the tourists that make the locals tend to think that Europe is
synonymous to wealth. Many Africans have ended up travelling to Europe due to in part having
marriage ties to the tourist after several meeting occasions or being invited for a visit after which
they bond and stay together in Europe.

On the other hand, there is a cadre of people who view Europe as a place where only the academic
failures go to seek remedy. This view is mostly conceived by people who are wealthy and live in
urban or semi urban regions or by those whose immediate village neighbours have been to Europe
but failed to achieve anything of substance when they return to their motherland. This is reinforced
by a story I heard about a man named James who many villagers use as a lesson to express their
reservation about going to study in Europe. Upon completion of his Bachelor studies, James went to
France for a Masters degree having worked in a renowned company for a period of three years. He
was on a full scholarship paid by the company for his two year study in Business Management and
full salary for up keeping his family while he is abroad. For the first one year, everything was fine
and he kept constant contacts with the family and the company elaborating the condition of his stay
and the progress of the studies. He even sent some money to the parents and relatives occasionally.
However, as time went by, less was heard from him and finally after the second year there was no
further contact. The phone could not be reached, the text messages could not go through and the
surface mails kept being returned due to wrong address. Time went by and after a period of eight
years, James finally announced his returning back to the motherland and to secure back his precious
job in the horn of Africa, having successfully completed his Masters degree and gaining a decent
work experience.

Friends and relatives a like came to the airport to meet James and inquire after his whereabouts for
those six years when he gave them communication blackout. Given the long distance trip he had
just covered, it was agreed that a rest be taken for the night and the rest be postponed for the
following day. Early afternoon of the next day, curious relatives and villagers gathered to listen to
James who was now in good spirits after having a good night rest. He narrated to them how his stay
and studies in France was, the achievements he had made and outlined a blue print of what he plans
to do for the company when he goes back to work. He had managed to save some money for
starting his own business and bought a state of the art Mercedes Benz to facilitate his movements
around. None of the relatives or villagers were curious enough to ask him for his certificate as this
could have been an insult given the eloquence and confidence he used to explain his stay abroad.

Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months and James had not reported to work. True to his
words, he went to the harbour and came back with a cool, white Mercedes and even started his own
business where he could casually go to and spend time telling his new found life. Age was catching
up with him and the parents were concerned about his plans as pertains to marriage. This was not
the best topic for James to discuss at the moment and thus he became illusive, citing his busy
schedule and the need to settle first and generate some wealth before expanding his family. The
reason was convincing enough and the thought of him stabilizing his business before returning to
his initial job served to drive his plans and purpose home. Something sinister happened; James
started spending too much time in bars drinking alcohol, the car was sold to raise some money for
the new lifestyle; business was not spared either as the stock diminished without being refurnished.
Relatives, friends and villagers became worried of the trend and the depression mood he had fallen
into. In numerous occasions, they asked him to go back to his former boss and seek employment.
Little did these people know that James, while in France, did not complete his studies but instead
opted to work. During his stay, before going silent, he had called his boss and resigned from his
post with the hope that he would not need to go back to the company again as he was married to a
French woman.

He sunk into the alcohol business and started drinking even the local brew; the business was in
shambles and later became liquidated. There was no money to fend for his needs leave alone the
parents, he started inheriting women from the village whose husbands had passed away and grew
really thin with time. Using him as an example, you could hear old women and men a like making
such comments in the village as no way, let my child stay with me here. Europe is bad; cant you
see what it has done to the son of so and so? Such a young, handsome looking and smart guy has
now wasted his life. Cannot have even own family but just inheriting old women. No Im not

sending any of my children to Europe, let them just study and work here where I can see them
From the younger ladies and young men, these sentiments are reinforced but using different
language because some of the sons and daughters of Africa who go to Europe tend to seduce
randomly the young ones they leave at home upon their return. Thus it is common to hear
sentiments like my friend, do not be deceived that you have a relationship with someone in
Europe. He is going out with the whites and dont even think of you. Dont you remember the son
of so and so who left and never came back? What about the other one who came back recently but
doesnt have anything? Do you want to be the villages laughing-stock?

Experience of Africans in Europe

Naomis case

Festive season of Christmas is over and January has come. With passport, visa and all travelling
documents at hand, Naomi is ready for her trip. Excited to meet her new boyfriend in family reunion and the dream of a better life still fresh in her mind, she cant wait to jump into that plane to
go to Europe. It is 17.45 when the pilot announces the welcoming message to the passengers, telling
them the duration of flight and the weather. Then the flight attendants demonstrate the safety
procedures. Given that it was the first time for Naomi to fly and thus had never used a seat belt, she
request for help from the attendant who helps her smiling.

At 10.00 the plane lands in Stockholm and Naomi gets her first shock. Its in the middle of winter in
January and the temperatures are -150c with snow everywhere and freezing cold for her. Even
though she had been informed of the extreme temperatures during winter, she didnt anticipate that
it could have been this cold. They take a ride to a tiny flat in town where the boyfriend leaves her
and promises to come back after work. Food is ready and Naomi is told to feel free and eat anything
she wants. Surprised at the turn of events, Naomi asks So when will you be back because itd be
nice to see your town a bit? to which Mr Sweden answers with a frown on the face In Kenya, I
was on holiday. Here in Europe people work so Ill be back when done with my work. Perplexed
with the look on the face and the stern voice, Naomi tries to cool tempers down and asks in a low
and soft tone Are you happy to see me? Realizing the change of tone, Mr Sweden comes close to
Naomi, hugs her and says sweetie I am happy to see you but I really have to go to work. Ill catch
up with you soon. With nothing more to say or do, she finally asks for a towel to take a shower and
feigns tiredness that she needs to get some sleep after the long, tiring trip.

Hours turned into days and Mr. Sweden was still nowhere to be seen. The house feels empty for
Naomi and she starts to be scared. With no phone, nobody she knows in town and no keys to get in
if she gets out, she succumbs to her condition and tries to entertain herself by watching TV and
spending most of the time reading her magazines which she brought along. Food is in plenty as she
carried some from home to share with the lovely one. Being a lady who has gone through many
hard times and has lived in the city, she switches on her survival for the fitness mode of operation.
Ting ting, the door bell rings. Scared to open, she reduces the TV volume and looks for a place to
hide. However, the door soon bangs open and there comes Mr Sweden.

There is an awe of uneasiness in the air. Not knowing whether to smile, scream, run or hit the guy,

Naomi finds herself stuck where she was standing as if nailed to the ground. The legs got heavy and
however much she tried to say something, the words couldnt come out. She thus decided to stay
put and stare at the boyfriend straight in the eye waiting for an explanation. Sorry dear started the
boyfriend as he moved towards Naomi, have a sit and Ill explain everything. Burning with rage,
she took a sit on the opposite chair to the boyfriend and with determined voice said go ahead
Mister! What is it? With this kind of determination and tense atmosphere, it was difficult even for
Mr Sweden to start explaining anything. He cleared his voice, shook his head and raised his arms as
if to say something but nothing came. Looking at Naomi, he finally got the courage to try to explain
what he wanted to explain. I went to work in a grocery down the street. After my work I left for
town to go and contact the guy who is organizing the job for you... At this juncture the voice
started shaking and Naomi got more concerned, excited and worried at the same time. So she
moved closer and wrapped her arms around him sweetie, what happened? Tell me please.

The news that came is not what Naomi had expected. She got even more confused as she tried to
dig for more details, so are we going to get the job or are we in trouble? was the last question she
could ask. Sensing the pain in Mr. Swedens face she decided to use her wit and play the role of a
loving girlfriend. She took him by the hands and dragged her to the kitchen where there were all
sorts of delicacies already made. Here darling, take this she said as she handed him a plate serve
yourself whatever you want. I made them for us. Surprised by the attitude Naomi took, he took the
plate and placed it on the table, then she turned to her, held her tight and kissed her gently then said
thank you darling as he turned to serve the food. The food was delicious by all standards and with
the belly full they moved to the sitting room where he inquired about Naomis trip. After some
conversation, they left for town to see different shopping malls and show Naomi a little bit of the
night life in town.

Happy as a couple, things went well together for the first one week. Mr Sweden went to work and
came back as usual on time. However, things took a different turn on the second week. Mr Sweden
started becoming more and more distant and reserved. Quite often he came home drunk and
sometimes could stay even for a whole week without informing Naomi of his whereabouts. With the
little money Naomi had, she managed to buy a phone and a sim card just in order to contact people
back home or send a message to see how they are doing. The trend went for a while until it reached
a point where she couldnt take it anymore. One evening when Mr Sweden came back drunk,
Naomi rose up, angry and disappointed she asked What the hell is wrong with you? This is not
what we were supposed to be doing. The guy frowned, got pissed off and hit the wall with all the
energy he had and then mumbled something. He then tried to walk past her to the bedroom.

Determined to know her future prospects and not giving up anymore, the fight ensued. You are not
going to sleep before you answer my question!! She started as she blocked the pathway and you
better take a shower before you can go the bed. Still angry at all the orders coming to him and
feeling drunk and tired he banged the door and walked out. He was not to be seen again for another
two weeks.

In the mean time, Naomi, having the keys and phone started walking around town on her own
looking for places. Even though she didnt understand the language, she managed by drawing the
paths she took and tried to remember roughly the buildings around her. This went on for days until
she finally knew how to get her way along. One problem persisted still though, how to buy
groceries for the names of the foodstuffs were in Swedish and packed differently from what she was
used to back at home. She however managed to buy few things like eggs, milk and bread and
survived on them. Having no friends, life started becoming difficult for her as there was now
nobody to turn to. She started going to night clubs and social places with the hope of meeting
somebody who could know any Kenyan or Africans around. As luck would have it, one fateful day
when sitting lonely and having a beer, she had some people speaking in Swahili. Relieved she went
and asked if she could join them and have a discussion. They welcomed her warmly to their table
and even offered her a drink as she joined.

As they continued drinking, one of the vocal guys called Moses asked Naomi excuse me sister,
what is your name, where are you from, and what brings you to Sweden? This sounded a bit
strange for Naomi to get three questions coming at a time and even before enjoying the
conversations. However, she replied my name is Naomi, Im from Kenya and came to Sweden to
meet a friend. Moses was not going to let it go easily even though his friends by seeing the pain in
Naomis face tried to restrict him from asking too many questions and let the sister enjoy her drink
and their company. So where is your friend? he asked again Is the friend male or female?
Naomi was now getting uneasy since she didnt want to talk about the whole issue and on the other
hand he just met the strangers. In her charming wit and throwing a warm smile she simply said it is
a long story

Moses finally kept quiet and dashed to the counter to offer them more drinks. On coming back
Naomi started telling them her story you have been nice people to me so far and I feel comfortable
around you. Given that you are from Kenya as me and we speak the same language, I can tell you
what happened. She took a zip from her glass and looked at Moses smiling so Moses, how long
have been living here in Sweden? Caught unawares with the question, he chocked from the drink

in the mouth and put the glass down. He wiped his mouth with the back of his palm and simply said
almost 10 years. Naomi then started by telling them how he met the guy in Nairobi when she was
working in the hotel as a receptionist. All the good things and promises the guy had given her and
what she has been going through since she arrived. The story was so moving that at some point the
guys felt like crying. They looked at her and said sorry siz you must have been duped.

It was getting late and Naomi excused herself that she had to go home. They exchanged telephone
numbers, hugged and bade each other farewell promising to call as soon as possible. That night she
couldnt get to sleep. She watched different channels from the television but couldnt concentrate
that much. She looked at the walls as if in prayers for divine intervention. Remembering all the
good things and the parties that they had in Nairobi before her trip and the promises she had given
her friends back at home, she broke down to tears and cried Help me please God. What do I do
now? As if waiting for an answer, she relaxed herself, went to bed and lay down on her back.
However, as she was still pondering, she fell asleep and woke up to find it was morning.

Moses and Naomi became good friends and in most occasions they kept contact and met almost
every day. He was a gentleman and explained to her the repercussions of living in Europe. One day
as they were sitting at Naomis place he said Listen sister, you are a nice person but youve been
lied to. Ive lived here long enough and what you were told isnt true. Pondering on what to say
next, he looked at her once more and asked What level of education do you have? Naomi was
now more comfortable and relaxed around Moses, as she rose up she said wait, Ill show you. She
went to her bag and came back with a bunch of papers here look at these ones she said as she
extended the papers to him. After scrutinizing the papers for a while Moses shook his head and said
well this is good for a start but not good enough. Terrified she asked whats wrong with them to
which Moses replied you have only high school certificates and thus its a bit difficult to get you a
decent job.

Weeks went by without any single word or knowledge of Mr. Sweden. Naomi decided to move
from the place in fear of his return and moved in with Moses with whom they now shared a
common bond. Moses introduced her to his friends and they embarked on a job hunt for her. It took
many months before Naomi could get even a cleaning job but she was still determined to get a job
and at least make her dreams come true on her own. She was now smarter, not having too many
expectations anymore but ready to live from the little shell get as she was far away from home and
could not depend on charity from Moses all the time.

It was a bright Monday morning as they were sleeping when Moses received a call. He looked at it
wondering whether to answer it or not, finally Naomi said jokingly cmon go ahead and pick your
phone. I dont mind even if it is one of your ladies. Hallo he answered who is this? to date
nobody knows what he was told but he jumped off the bed, excited and racing around the room
back and forth all the time just saying thank you....thanks a lot man! Upon finishing with his
phone call he ran back to the bedroom, pushed the door with a bang as he danced and still holding
the phone tight in the hand. Naomi curious about what this could be rose up and sat down staring at
Moses who couldnt say anything yet but just kept dancing. What is it now sweetie? she asked.
Still struggling to control his breath, he answered I have got good news for you!! Then like a thud
the words came from his mouth Youve gotten a job. They jumped, shouted and raced in the
house dancing, not to any music but to their joy. The rest of the day Moses spent explaining to her
the nature of jobs available. He explained that it is better she got a job in a warehouse because they
pay better and have longer hours than in the cleaning or dish washing jobs.

Everything was arranged in advance and put in order before Naomi could be taken to her new
working place. She did not know what really waited for her because she had never been to a
warehouse before and didnt know what is done there. However, since the boss was a very good
friend of Moses and understood the circumstances surrounding Naomis situation, he took his time
to explain in details what her task will be. The first day went fine since it was only short orientation
day to explain what is to be done and show her around the place. However, the days to come started
being a nightmare. She had to work in different shifts and sometimes even in the night. One week
went by, second and third week followed; when it came to fourth week Naomi started missing
home.

They went for a drink together and met many more friends. They went for a dance in one club in
restaurant where I happened to be that night as I was in Stockholm. Moses came running to me and
asked what are you doing here man? I just told her that Im on holiday and decided to take a ferry
to Sweden and relax for some few days. I spotted Naomi who was staring at me with mouth agape
in disbelief. Not sure if weve met, she asked Moses my name and stared at me again. After getting
my name, she returned to me and asked arent you the same guy we met in Nairobi? I answered in
the affirmative, she looked at me again angry and mostly disappointed and ashamed not at me but at
her behaviour towards me when we first met. She came to me and deeply apologetically said Im
really sorry. Not knowing why she was sorry, I just turned to her and said its ok, where is your
mzungu? Moses then cut me short and said man things arent that cool, lets drink and Ill tell you
the story later.

The night party went nice with a lot of drinks and stories to tell. Later on before leaving the club,
Naomi pulled me aside and asked why didnt you warn me? Why didnt you tell me that you live
in Europe and know this many people? I was stranded as I did not understand what had transpired
and why change of heart and all the warmth. That is when she took a handkerchief from her bag and
blew her nose as she started sobbing. Sorry I didnt know that Europe is this difficult, I really miss
home. I sympathised with her sorrow as she narrated to me what had happened and what she was
going through. I couldnt say much since she was already too hurt and adding salt to the wounds
wouldnt have been fare. I put my arm around her and as we walked around I explained to her why I
took low profile when we met. Finally before parting our ways I gave her my Finnish number and
said welcome to Europe, call me when you are in Helsinki. She smiled broadly and in her
charismatic joking voice shouted see you village boy!!

It was November 2001 when after having a nice dinner at home with my girlfriend and my sister
who had just arrived from Kenya we decided to go to a club called Viva in Helsinki. On the way, as
we advanced towards the club, I told my girlfriend to go ahead of us as there is a doorman who is a
racist and doesnt easily allow foreigners of African origin in easily. He could look for any excuse
from you are drunk, your eyes are red or the person in the id is not yours, sometimes he would
claim that the night is only for VIP members. Many people complained against his decisions and
there is a time the police was called to see for themselves the treatment but all they could say was
there are many clubs, if you cant get in here just go to the next one. The bouncer used to wear a
white shirt with a box kind of body and was well known and much disliked by many Africans.

Luckily on this fateful day, the bouncer at the door was a friendly one who didnt discriminate; he
handled his job professionally. Once we got in we agreed that I keep my cloakroom jacket and the
ladies keep theirs since they were to leave for home before me. At the cloakroom, we met the
bouncer who doesnt like the blacks, I gave him my jacket and then handed him the other two
jackets and asked him to put them separately. When he came back he gave me the first ticket saying
this is the one with the two jackets as I gave it to my girlfriend to keep it he handed me the other
one saying this is the one for one jacket. I took it and kept it on my pocket as I gestured to the
ladies that we go upstairs to listen to better music. Downstairs just close to the cloakroom they were
playing loud techno music where as upstairs they played nice hip hop, reggae and raga tone.

Some few minutes after 01.10, my girlfriend came to inform me that they are leaving for home
since they are tired and ask me if I want to join them or stay with friends and go home later, to
which I said just go ahead Ill come with the next bus. As I was still talking to my friends in the

club, my girlfriend came back again and asked me to the cloakroom that there was some problem
with the jackets. When I went there, the guy I met couldnt speak too good English, coupled with
the loud noise of the disco, he couldnt understand what I was saying. So he called the other
bouncer who spoke better English to come and handle our case. At that instance, I turned to face my
girlfriend in order to ask her to come and translate what I was saying in Finnish. No sooner had I
turned than I heard a shout and a jump towards me puhu Suomea perkele which in English means
Speak English you devil The next thing is that I woke up and found myself lying helplessly on the
ground with my sister and girlfriend crying and perplexed Finns looking at me. When I got up,
everyone felt a sigh of relief for I was unconscious for some time and they thought I was dead.

We went out, called the police as is usually the case in scenes of crime. However, given that I was a
foreigner and speaking in English, they refused to come and instead ordered me to report to their
office the following day to file a report if I want to press charges. I went back to the club and asked
the bouncer at the door to take me to the one who strangled me so that I could get his full name for
the police records. Upon hearing that Id called the police, he ran into hiding and refused to come
out. So the bouncer at the door who was the workmate gave wrote me the full name of the racist
bouncer and his own name for confirmation if need there be. The night was spoilt both to my sister
and my girlfriend who were still tongue tied at the necessity of that action. However, I was more
disappointed and shamed to be humiliated like that in front of my young sister and girlfriend.

Came the following day, we left very early for the police station to report the matter since I had to
travel to Kenya for my holidays, I wrote my statement first, followed by my girlfriend and my
sister. After writing my statement, I requested the police if they could go to the club, which was just
stone throw away from their office to re-examine the video in order to establish the facts and get
more evidence. I even gave them the exact time interval so that they dont have to waste to much
time searching for what happened. This they declined to do claiming that the security camera in the
club doesnt record events. With nothing much to say or do, we left for town to do my last shopping
before going home to pack for my trip.

It is 2003 when the case comes to court. My initial lawyer is in maternity leave and I am a signed a
new junior lawyer. First the defence lawyer insists that both the suspect he is representing and their
witness both be sworn in as suspects since the body description as given in the 2001 police is
confusing. A fact I strongly objected to my lawyer and asked him to refuse the trick since I can
positively identify the man by face. My lawyer sitting there and just shaking refused and said it is
not necessary. I got disappointed at that move since witnesses are not allow to stay in the courtroom

except when called. This helps to cross- check whether there statements are coherent with the
victims or suspects. However being suspects they both were allowed to sit in the hall and thus
could easily repeat what the other had said without a fuss or sweat. We all gave our parts of the
stories and questions were asked. We were both cross-examined to verify our statement. However,
something very funny happened, I insisted that the bouncer who strangled me was behind the desk
and jump over it. When asked, Were you behind or in front of the desk? He could not remember
and his witness also could not remember where he was from when he came to attack me. This
perplexed everybody in the court. The other issue was that in normal circumstances, if someone is
making noise or disturbing in the club, the bouncer guides him out of the club; if he is too stubborn
is when little force can be used in order to get him out of the premises and then call the police. None
of these were done, I wasnt escorted out of the club but simply strangled and left there to die or
whatever could have followed. When asked why he couldnt escort me out he simply replied I
dont remember.

With all the evidence adduced to the court, the prosecutor and the assisting judges in their final
verdict found the accused guilty as charged and gave grounds for their decision. The presiding
judge refused to make any judgement immediately and we had to wait for another one month for the
judgement to come. When the judgement came, the bouncer was acquitted of any wrong doing;
grounds for acquisition: Our statements cannot be trusted since my we had ties with the witnesses.
The question which I still ask myself till today is : Why didnt the police come to the scene when I
called since there were many people who were ready to be witnesses? Why didnt the police in the
preliminary investigation go and observe the security camera in order to see what actually
transpired? How can two bouncers working doing the same things words be trusted? Why didnt the
court realize that their statements in court didnt match the previous ones given in police station? Is
this justice or is it pure racism from those who could be providing justice?

This reminds me of another episode of a scholar who married a Finnish lady who was somehow
well connected in the society. They had a baby boy together and after that they divorced and stayed
apart. According to the Finnish regulations the parents can have either joint custody or the mother is
given single custody. However, the child stays with the mother but both the parents should have
equal visiting rights depending on the age of the child and at the age of 13 then the child can decide
which of the parents to stay with. Irrespective of the agreement which was made and was binding,
whenever the scholar took the child, the social workers and the police came to harass him on the
grounds that he is trying to snatch the boy out of the country. The next count was that he is abusing
the son. He went to court in Finland and appealed even to the highest court in the land but his

appeal fell on deaf ears. Given the determination of the father and the psychological torture the son
was undergoing since he loved the father and couldnt understand why he could not be with the
father, the case was taken to the Hague for determination. At the Hague the judges found out that
the judges all erred in their judgement and this was after the son himself was allowed to be brought
to court to testify in the case. The question is in whose interest were the judges, social workers and
the police working? The child, the mother or the father?

Many immigrants of African origin living in Finland will testify to the fact that racism is highly
institutionalised in Finland. Walking along any street in Finland, most Africans would meet the
words like apina (Monkey), neekkeri(nigger). It is common if these words came from the
ordinary people without any knowledge or exposure. However, suffice to say some of these words
followed by action come from the very people who are entrusted with the task of protecting the
people. I remember an incident where a friend of mine had some problems and stopped a police car
on the road. After explaining his grievances the officer simply looked at him and said I made an
oath to protect my people, are you one of them?? The friend was tongue-tied and thus simply
walked away.

On the other hand, we should also understand the Finns. Most of the African immigrants who come
with high expectations tend not to respect the law and order of the society after failing to achieve
their goals. Most of these immigrants tend to undermine the Finns and treat them like second class
citizens even though they are in their own countries. One day after work, I went to sit with my
friends in a park called Kaisaniemi, on my way I came across some African immigrants. As is our
norm, I said hi to them and was about to continue walking when one of them asked me Excuse me
broad, where are you from?? Jokingly I replied from work? He looked at his friends and looked
at me again and said look at this one-o, na ask him where from and na tell me wok at this juncture
I chipped in and said Im from Kenya. He looked at me again and said Are you a student-o?
when I told him I was a student, I could see the look on his face. He was kind of disappointed or
somehow felt pity for me. He moved a bit far away from me and then said you Kenyan boys, you
dont know how to make money. You come here then study, study and study. Get a woman-o, make
babies and get papers. Then after that youll make money. I was quite surprised by this mentality.