A magazine for Africans and friends of Africa...Our Voices, Our Vision, Our Culture

My Drama with a Nigerian Man
By Nya Joy Payton
In a recent issue of The AFRican, Wakawaka columnist Sowore aired his frustrations with dating Nigerian women. His article, though entertaining, was somewhat of a contradiction. Put quite simply, since he is a Nigerian man, it takes drama to know drama.

I'm not attempting to stereotype all Nigerian men, because I am sure there are some beautiful, non-dramatic ones out there. I just want to relate one account with a Nigerian brother I once knew.

I met this Nigerian man, who we will call Tyrone, through an associate. The introduction was for business - he was in the publishing field and I'm a freelance writer.

I must say I was not impressed with the products he produced, but was being polite by not judging a book by its cover, literally and figuratively. When it comes to books, you get a good idea of content from the cover, and if there's no time or budget for a good graphic designer the book is best left unread. That was definitely the case here.

We had a few phone conversations and meetings to discuss ways to work together. When he invited me to a fundraising event, I didn't think twice about going. As a freelance writer, I knew it would be an opportune time to network with new people.

Tyrone offered to give me a ride to the formal event, which was held at an upscale hotel. He was invited to sit at what was called the High Table with special guests and dignitaries. As the keynote speaker, Tyrone gave a speech of great volume and little significance. Meanwhile, I was enjoying myself at the low table, meeting new people and exchanging information. I noticed Tyrone staring from the high table and giving me the eyes. I ignored his stare and continued networking. This apparently upset Tyrone, and he asked me to join him at the high table, but I was comfortable where I was. He wanted to finish our discussion on a project we were working on, so I took a seat beside him; but then he walked away to mingle, while I sat in solitary splendor at the high table. Seconds later, I returned to the low table to resume my conversations.

Many single Nigerian men wanted to know my status, if I was with Tyrone. One brother joked about Tyrone's obvious jealous streak by appointing me to sit alone for a time out. While exiting, Tyrone tried to hold my hand to give the elusion that we were a couple.

On the ride home he obsessively asked me about his speech. I simply said, you spoke volumes on the subject at hand, hoping that would end the interrogation.

Once we arrived in front of my house, he came up with a lame excuse to get inside my apartment. He said he had a long ride back uptown and would like to use my bathroom to change his clothes.

Inside my apartment, I noticed he didn't have a change of clothes, just a weak line. Can we talk? Talk?! There's obviously nothing to discuss at 1:00 AM. I opened the door to escort him out. He refused, telling me how beautiful I was. I told him that I keep my personal and business life separate. He replied, "Then we can forget about business, cause I want you!" I told him that it was not an option; but he proceeded to really show his warped state of mind by proclaiming, "I'm a Nigerian man and we always get what we want!" and then kissing me. I managed to break away from his hold, and demanded that he leave or I would have him arrested. He quickly came to his senses. Before walking out the door, he turned around and pathetically whispered, "I love you".

I know that was simply one bad experience with one trifling Nigerian man, but now at least the playing field is even. Hopefully, next time we can bring some positivity to the table.