Why My American Cousins Have A Better Chance At Life Than I

The last time my cousins and I were under the same roof was in December 2017. They all came home to Nigeria to celebrate Christmas. It was such a beautiful event — one that neither my cousins nor I would forget in a hurry.

One of my aunts, Wanda, lives in America, and I have four American cousins from her. My other aunt, Obi, lives in Germany, and I have a cousin from her and her American husband. And my aunt, Ife, lives in Germany, and I have three cousins from her and her Irish husband.

From the foregoing, you can tell that our family tree has grown into a forest. Metamorphosed beyond the boundaries of continent and race; blurred the lines of white and black.

But, we remain cousins to one another. Family.

As I sat with my cousins in our grandfather’s living room that cold December, I listened to them talk about the things that mattered to them. From school to life outside of school. As a Nigerian living in Nigeria, I could not relate to most.

Eli, my 10-year-old German-Irish-Nigerian cousin, is already a talented ballet dancer and hopes to be a prima ballerina. She takes it seriously. It is her career path.

Oma, my 6-year-old American-Nigerian cousin, is our future Olympic gymnast. Her colorful leotards came with her for the holidays. She even taught me how to do a handstand. Which I still cannot do unsupported.

Jay, my 19-year-old American-Nigerian cousin, had recently moved away from home. To Canada, to be a bartender. 'To figure things out for himself', he said.

Like Bruce Lipton, Ph.D., rightly said, “Genes load the gun, but the environment pulls the trigger.”

My cousins and I have a connection via genes. A similarity in our gun barrels. However, our triggers are aimed at different targets.

We are a go-getter family. However, this trait will manifest in different ways across the continents where we live. From figuring things out on our terms like Jay to working in HR like me.

In all of my “go-getterness”, my Nigerian passport can only get me into a handful of countries, mostly African. My cousins’ passports give them the leverage to move to Canada. To figure life out. Then, move to Paris to see the Eiffel tower.

Being Nigerian in Nigeria is having limited options as a career path. Olympics gymnastics is more a pipe dream than anything.

The Nigerian Ballet audience is a handful. Our theatre is not a valid source of income like Broadway. They don’t care too much for starving artists. A theatrical career is considered a side hustle in more ways than one.

My cousins are citizens of “the land of the free.” Their justice system still has some form of dignity. They have access to free Wi-Fi while I have to buy data to run my YouTube channel. Their passports gives them automatic respect when they travel. It allows them to wake up in Milan today and Sydney tomorrow.

I am instantly looked at as a fraudster when I present my Nigerian passport. The visa lady has to ask me countless times why I am visiting the country.

They are exempt from providing any proof of English proficiency when applying to international colleges. I am not. But yes, my cousins still have to deal with racism. Colorism. Immense gun violence. Mass shootings.

Michael Thompson was spot on when he said, Don’t underestimate the importance of “where.” My cousins exist in an open market, where they can be anything they want. Even drag queens. And make money doing what they love.

Statistics say I have a lower chance. What to do now?