Bridging Racial Gaps Through Food, One Bite at a Time

My journey with food has been a long and loving one. As a Nigerian from Kano State — what is considered part of the core north — I have had the pleasure of eating different kinds of dishes and delicacies from across Nigeria. I enjoyed them too! In my experience, being able to accept another person’s kind of food, putting aside your personal preferences or phobia for trying new food, endears you to the other like nothing else probably could. When you accept one’s native delicacy, you simultaneously accept that person, his culture and tradition. You needn’t ever say, “I see you” ever again afterwards. He would be convinced that you really do.

I don’t quite remember at what stage of my life I learnt to have little or no reservations for food that I was not accustomed to. Many people have often asked what dish my favorite is, and although it might sound made up, I always tell them the truth; I have none. Do I have certain delicacies I am more excited to eat than others? Sure, I do but, I am always at a loss for that one special dish that stands out above all else.

Perhaps this all started while growing up in a missionary home. From as far back as I can remember, I was encouraged to never turn down any food offered to me simply on the basis of likability or even preference. My dad would always tell me that, if others could eat it, so could I. “Besides”, he would add, “how do you expect them to truly listen to the ideas you have to share with them, if you cannot bear to share a meal, they have so generously offered you?” So, I ate, but only to make my parents happy. I did so for so long that I completely forgot the objective of making my parents happy and just ate whatever dish I was being offered, only this time, it was because I was genuinely excited to try them for myself.

However, food plays a minor role in this discussion. My aim is to explore a link between accepting one’s food and loving them as a result. You see, globalism has made us increasingly aware of all the different people around the world and traditions they have. Ever since the concept of a global village sank into our consciousness, we have struggled to find things that could unite us all and bring us into some kind of perfect synergy. The search is still on. Sports, music, movies. All of those have managed to bring humans of all races together at one point or the other. Still, our differences take up a big place in the room once the game is over, or the music stops. We embody our differences in a way that often times, there really is no way to bridge the gap those differences create.

In the last few days since the murder of George Floyd, I have found myself wondering just how much pain the world must go through before we all come to understand that our differences can never sum up to all the other things we share in common across the entire human race! It sounds absurd to continually remind people that no matter the skin color, language, lineage or geographic heritage, we all bleed red, we all need oxygen, and we are all capable of dying. Sadly, that is a fact that we keep coming back to as cases of xenophobia, racism and the old-fashioned inequality, continues to drive a wedge between us all.

I wonder, could we better connect with each other if we all had no reservations for the kind of food other races, nations or tribes ate? How could you eat, probably enjoy some Chinese dish but, still manage to dislike a Chinese man? Wouldn’t it be stupid to share a hot, spicy dish of chicken tikka masala with an Indian, enjoy the food but somehow manage to hate Indians as an ethnic group? Better still, how awkward would it be to enjoy eating soul food, tastily prepared with all the greens, beans, corn bread and fried fish, only to effectively sustain your personal prejudice and even racist disposition towards your black neighbor? To do so, would require a mind conditioned to always choose love as the absolute last resort. No one deserves to live that way.

Perhaps somewhere in the universe, a special remedy could be made to have all humans finally come together in mutual love and respect, to live in peace and harmony. But until that day comes, I don’t think it would be a bad idea to eat with your black neighbor, share some food with a Latin American co-worker, your Asian friend and vice versa. In my opinion, common grounds could be built through such intimate and personal endeavors. Perhaps, just maybe, if we let it, food could lead the way to that peace we have all been longing for.