We all look the same

“I’m sorry, what’s your name?” I'm confused as usual. They all look the same. Coming from a place where being black was rare, it was easy to remember people's names, that black guy, that’s Tony. But when everybody is black it just doesn’t work. You really have to look, and if you do, then you can start to recognize people.

It's the same for the locals, they have a hard time telling us apart for the same reasons. When I go to the Lekki (Ilasan) market, there is sure to be a small who comes up and says “Hello sir, how are you, I remember you from last time.” He probably remembers some white guy and since one is as good as another then what's the difference? But I do meet people who really do recognize me, and it's always a pleasure. Except when it's the helper guy at Park and Shop who I should have dashed last week for taking the shopping to the car but the smallest note I had was N200 which was just too much so I didn't.

On the other hand, the guy who sells antique coins and stuff does know me. I’m maybe the only one who stops to look. Although lately, since I don’t buy anything his greetings are not as warm as they used to be. Yes, the Biafran coins are historic and interesting, but what would I really do with them? He’s got banknotes too, can you imagine a country that lasted only three years had it’s own money?

I am also vaguely interested in the windup gramophones that pop up from time to time. I can just picture some missionary in a village in the jungle winding the thing up and playing a hymn for the congregation to sing along. Then I notice the record on the turntable is "Shine" by Benny Goodman. I wonder what they were doing in the jungle to that music?