by Spent all day working on my accountability marketplace piece, and I had to take three breaks because I kept laughing at my own writing. Is that narcissistic? Probably. Do I care? Not even a little bit. When you’re writing about a country that’s literally put a price tag on ethics violations, you either laugh or you weep, and I’ve already done enough weeping this year.
The beautiful thing about being an immigrant writing satire is that I see things Americans have become numb to. They’ve been living in this slowly boiling pot for so long they don’t even notice the temperature anymore. But I remember arriving here five years ago, wide-eyed and believing in American exceptionalism. Now I’m documenting American exceptionally creative corruption, and honestly? The material is endless.
My friend Chioma called from Houston. “Are you sure you want to keep writing this stuff?” she asked. “You just got your citizenship. Don’t you want to… I don’t know, keep your head down?” I told her that keeping my head down is exactly what they expect. That’s what makes immigrants such perfect citizenswe’re so grateful to be here that we’re afraid to point out when things are broken.
But I didn’t survive Lagos traffic, British colonial education systems, and Trump’s immigration policies just to be quiet. My voice is my citizenship document. My satire is my proof of belonging. If I can’t criticize this country, then what kind of citizenship is it? The decorative kind? No thanks.
The research for this piece was depressing. I talked to three different lawyers who confirmed that yes, wealth absolutely buys different outcomes in the legal system. They couldn’t say it on record, of course. But off the record? They practically wrote my article for me. One of them said, “Aisha, you’re writing satire, but you’re not actually exaggerating. That’s the scary part.”
He’s right. The scary part is that I’m barely exaggerating. I’m just saying out loud what everyone already knows but pretends not to. That’s not satirethat’s journalism with better jokes.
Tonight I’m going to watch Nollywood films and remember that corruption isn’t uniquely American. We had it in West Africa too. The difference is that Americans are better at branding it. They call it “legal strategy” instead of bribery. They call it “lobbying” instead of corruption. They’ve turned the whole thing into a PowerPoint presentation with quarterly earnings reports.
At least in Lagos, we were honest about our dishonesty.
# 776
