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A Nightclub Forbidden
to Africans
By Hakeem Babalola
On that
summer night, Daniel Prebor and Prince had gone to Café
de Rio at Petofi Híd to enjoy themselves. At the gate,
two muscular men - apparently bouncers - stopped them.
The two were refused entry while other party goers got a
warm welcome. Daniel and Prince demanded to know the
reason for being fenced. One of the bouncers offered an
explanation that deeply shocked the two men.
"It's an
instruction from the owner not to let you in," said the
bouncer. "Two days ago, police came here looking for
three black men in connection with drugs, so we have
been instructed not to let blacks in. Now go away."
On the same
night, Krizta, my Hungarian friend and I went to the
same Café de Rio. I was also refused entry while Krizta
was greeted with a smile. She could go inside but not
with me. She declined, as she was terribly shocked. I
guessed she had never seen such unfair treatment of a
person or group on the basis of prejudice - in her life.
She was so much disturbed that Daniel, Prince, and I had
to calm her down. "But they can’t do something like
this," she kept saying.
Unlike
Daniel, Prince, and Krizta, I was not struck with fear
of any kind. Why should I? After all, I had previously
exposed a similar club named Hully Gully (now closed
down) for refusing entry to Africans under the pretense
of a private club. In those days Africans had to pretend
to be American or British before they were allowed entry
into Hully Gully.
So I was
not even angry with the bouncers; they were simply doing
their jobs. Besides, I was in no mood for their
brainless gabble. But I made desperate attempt to speak
with the owner. The issue at stake was so sensitive and
thus required more than mere muscle power, hence my
desperation to speak with someone with less muscle.
Our attempt
to reach the owner proved abortive. Meanwhile we passed
the night at Zöld Pardon - the Club at the other side.
As much as I tried, I couldn't get it from my mind,
especially when I had been allowed in at the same Café
de Rio a week before.
Still
overwhelmed by the intensity of such discrimination,
Krizta took it upon herself to make sure something was
being done. She sent a protest letter to the media;
contacted National Ethnic Minority Ombudsman; and other
Human Rights Organisations. She seemed to be offended
more than three of us put together. "Her reaction and
that of people like her," said Prince, "is what keeps us
going in this country."
In order to
re-test the entry policy, I went to café do Rio again.
Alas, the situation was the same. Although as
intimidating as the bouncers looked, at no time did they
result to physical abuse. They were just not in the mood
to see dark faces. They were even generous enough to
give me their boss telephone number. It was genuine but
each time I called the boss, he "banged" his mobile
phone. He was such a difficult man, and even threatened
to deal with me should I persist in my "stupid" story.
So I had no choice than to believe the bouncers.
Now let us
examine the reason stated by the security guards for
refusing entry to "blacks". The excuse sounds so
implausible at first that I wonder if the security
guards could be telling the truth. Just because law
enforcement agents were looking for three black men,
then they must be looking for all black men in Hungary!
We need to tell this man that his irrational decision is
offensive to "blacks" all over the world. Or does he
think insulting "blacks" is so mundane that no one would
raise an eye brow?
I am not
sure whether the owner of Café de Rio would likewise
instruct the bouncers to fend off all white people, had
the police were looking for three white men in
connection with drugs. It doesn’t make any sense to me.
I wouldn’t mind if anyone had been refused entry on the
suspicious of causing trouble. I sense the owner of Café
de Rio must have been waiting for an opportunity like
this in order to carry out such bigotry message. Thank
God people like him are not at the helm of affairs;
otherwise all of us blessed with dark skin would be
languishing in jail by now.
But we
should enlighten him that racial prejudice is always a
delicate issue; it calls for sound judgement rather than
hypothetical reasoning. He must also be told in plain
language that his presumption was not only wrong but
un-called for. In case of ignorance, we should as well
educate this man about the fact that same race does not
necessarily connote one people. Therefore, his
supposition that all "blacks" are criminal is
unjustified.
"The thing
worries me, and I am disappointed," groaned Prince who
has lived in Hungary for twenty years. "It’s simply
discrimination. Enough is enough." Eriksson, a Swede who
spoke to me after witnessing the situation, puts it very
succinctly: "You mean they refused you entry because of
your colour. They can’t do that in Sweden. The place
will close down if you can prove it."
Well, the
Hungarian constitution specifically outlaws any form of
discrimination in private enterprises open to the
public. Yet discrimination against minorities at some
nightclubs is not a new complaint heard at City Hall.
"But I can’t imagine a situation like this," said Balasz
Endrenyi, an officer at the Mayor Office. "It’s
unbelievable that such thing is happening." The founder
of Mahatman Gandi Human Right’s Movement, Jibril Deen,
was not surprised to hear such discrimination. "Of
course that’s their usual song," he said. "Our disco is
a private club."
However,
Katalin Korda, a secretary at the National Ethnics
Minority Ombudsman was taken aback when she heard the
story. "It’s astonishing," she said, "to refuse someone
because of his or her skin colour. It’s an insult."
Unfortunately, the National Ethnics Minority Ombudsman
has no official power to open investigation against
private persons, according to its lawyer, Katalin
Haraszti.
To some
people such discrimination is both hypocrisy and
immaturity. "The whole thing is a child’s play,"
explained Daniel who is a naturalised Hungarian.
"Imagine they don’t want blacks in their Café but they
play black music. Isn’t it hypocrisy?"
* *
* * *
Author’s note: The first incident
happened in the summer of 2003 and nothing has changed
since then. Budapest Sun, one of the three
English newspapers refused to publish this article
despite my earlier contribution to the paper.
copyright 2007
mysmallvoice@yahoo.com
Hakeem
Babalola is
currently teaching English Communication in Budapest,
Hungary. He loves writing, a vehicle by which he rides
to relieve himself of certain emotions. His articles
have appeared in Nigerian newspapers including
Nigerian Tribune,
Daily Champion,
Vanguard,
Daily Trust
respectively. He is also a contributor to several online
magazines like Nigeriavillagesquare.com,
Chatafrikarticles.com, voiceofnigerians and a
host of others. Hakeem is a member of Association of
Hungarian Journalists.
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Escape from Slavery: The True Story
of My Ten Years in Captivity and My
Journey to Freedom in America
By
Francis Bok
Seven-year-old Francis Piol Bol Buk was
living happily on his family's southern
Sudan farm. One day in 1986, he was sent on
errands to the marketplace. There, a slave
raid ripped him from his contented life and
threw him into a wretched existence serving
under a northern Sudanese Arab. After he
escaped at age 17, Buk made his way to Cairo
with a black market passport incorrectly
listing his name as Bok and became a U.N.
refugee allowed to settle in the U.S. in
1999. |
Although he found contentment in Iowa
among other refugees, the following year Bok decided to
work with an American antislavery organization, and
testified before Congress about the atrocities in Sudan.
While this is a remarkable story, its power is conveyed
most effectively through Bok's simple retelling. His
sincerity compels, especially when he describes the
decade of mistreatment he endured. After two failed
escape attempts, he's told he'll be killed in the
morning, and while bound, he thinks of the morning
ahead: "I would be dead and finally through with this
place and this family. My mind preferred death." Yet
when his master changes his mind, Bok immediately starts
plotting again. For all his emotional strength, though,
Bok remains humble. He thanks God and everyone who helps
him escape slavery. This is a powerful, exceptionally
well-told story, equally riveting and heartbreaking.
Although legal strides have been made, with the help of
people like Bok, the persistence of slavery in the world
makes this a work that can't be ignored.—Publishers
Weekly
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* * *
As a seven-year-old
boy growing up in the southern Sudan, Bok was caught up
in a raid on a regional market center when marauders
from the north set upon the market, killing the men and
kidnapping the women and children to work as farm
slaves. He went from a loving and supportive extended
family to the brutality of slavery in a strange land and
culture, dominated by Muslims who considered him a
Christian infidel. After enduring 10 years of slavery,
Bok escaped to freedom in Cairo, where he became a U.N.
refugee, eventually making his way to the U.S. at the
age of 21. Having learned Arabic in Northern Sudan and
English in America, Bok, with incredible determination,
became involved in the antislavery movement, speaking
around the country while seeking to earn a high-school
degree. Yet it is his simple account of being a child
cut off from his family and culture that shows the
inhumanity of slavery. Bok's saga provides another—more
contemporary—perspective on slavery for Americans
reckoning with their own troubling history of such
inhumanity. Vernon
Ford—Booklist
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* * *
|
Slave: My True Story
By
Mende Nazer
Born into the Karko tribe in the Nuba
mountains of northern Sudan, Nazer has
written a straightforward, harrowing memoir
that's a sobering reminder that slavery
still needs to be stamped out. The first,
substantial section of the book concentrates
on Nazer's idyllic childhood, made all the
more poignant for the misery readers know is
to come. Nazer is presented as intelligent
and headstrong, and her people as peaceful,
generous and kind. In 1994, around age 12
(the Nuba do not keep birth records), Nazer
was snatched by Arab raiders, raped and
shipped to the nation's capital, Khartoum,
where she was installed as a maid for a
wealthy suburban family. (For readers
expecting her fate to include a grimy
factory or barren field, the domesticity of
her prison comes as a shock.) |
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To Nazer, the
modern landscape of Khartoum could not possibly have
been more alien; after all, she had never seen even a
spoon, a mirror or a sink, much less a telephone or
television set. Nazer's urbane tormentors—mostly the
pampered housewife—beat her frequently and dehumanized
her in dozens of ways. They were affluent, petty, and
calculatedly cruel, all in the name of "keeping up
appearances." The contrast between Nazer's pleasant but
"primitive" early life and the horrors she experienced
in Khartoum could hardly be more stark; it's an object
lesson in the sometimes dehumanizing power of progress
and creature comforts. After seven years, Nazer was sent
to work in the U.K., where she contacted other Sudanese
and eventually escaped to freedom. Her book is a
profound meditation on the human ability to survive
virtually any circumstances.—Publishers Weekly
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Alek: My Life from Sudanese Refugee to
International Supermodel
By
Alek Wek
"When I
cleaned toilets, I only saw it as work to
give me the means to achieve my goals. Of
course I hated it," the Sudanese supermodel
exclaimed. "Waking up at 4 a.m. when it's
freezing cold is not easy, followed by Uni,
coursework and my evening baby-sitting job,
but it made me disciplined and gave me a
huge sense of self-appreciation."
Born
the seventh of nine children Alek, meaning
'black-spotted cow' (one of Sudan's most
treasured cows, which represents good luck),
never dreamt of becoming a model. Both in
her motherland, where she was considered to
be inferior due to her Dinka tribe (dubbed
as 'zurqa', meaning dirty black) and again
in Britain when she arrived in 1991, she
faced hostility. |
Since being scouted
Wek has been in several high-profile music videos, done
ads for Issey Miyake, Moschino, Victoria's Secret and
Clinique, as well as strutted the runway for fashion
designers John Galliano, Donna Karen, Calvin Klein and
Ermanno Scervino - to name a few. The Dinka beauty who
was the first black model who didn't conform to a
Caucasian aesthetic also scored an acting role in 2002,
debuting in The Four Feathers as Sudanese princess Aquol.
. . .
"When I was granted
permission to re-enter the country and I had the
opportunity to revisit my old life, I realised that I
need closure because my life has transformed so much.
But with the closure I was seeking, I also realised that
I had an open book to move forward. Once I returned to
my new home in Brooklyn, I had a burning desire to
transcribe my feelings into memoirs," she said. . . .
Maintaining her
Dinka traditions while living in the Big Apple, Wek
always speaks to her mother in their traditional
language and talks Arabic with her sisters. Wek lives
with her boyfriend of four years, Riccardo Sala, an
Italian who works in property but, most importantly, Wek
brings her past life to the kitchen table by cooking
traditional Dinka food such as okra stew and dried fish,
creating aromas from her small town in Wau in her East
Side, New York, kitchen.—Jamaica-Gleaner
|
Word, Image, and the New Negro
By
Anne Carroll
The
author's analysis of how the illustrations
amplify and create tension with the writing
and how they empower and sometimes
disempower their subjects is the first
critical work in this important area.
Generously illustrated. Highly recommended.—
Choice
In
tracing the formation of the idea of the New
Negro through the vital interplay of
literature, art, and social criticism,
Word, Image, and the New Negro
makes a superb contribution to scholarship
on the Harlem Renaissance, the history of
African American publishing, and modern
American culture.—Eric
J. Sundquist, author of
To Wake the Nations: Race in the Making of
American Literature |
 |
The first detailed comparative analysis of the mix
of text and illustration in the major African
American magazines and anthologies of the 1910s and
1920s. It is a major advance in our understanding of
what amounted to innovative collage forms
articulated to race and politics. Carefully
theorized and rich with persuasive readings, the
book should appeal not only to literary scholars but
also to anyone interested in modernity and the
little magazine.—Cary
Nelson, author of
Revolutionary Memory
A very welcome contribution to the contemporary
rethinking of the period. By calling our attention
to the images that consistently and significantly
appeared alongside some of the well-remembered texts
of the Harlem Renaissance, Carroll foregrounds the
very modernity that the New Negro Movement sought
self-consciously to embrace.... Carroll's eye for
the particular will have both a helpful and
inspiring effect on readers who want to continue
building on the work she has done here.—Net
Reviews
This book focuses on the collaborative illustrated
volumes published during the Harlem Renaissance, in
which African Americans used written and visual
texts to shape ideas about themselves and to
redefine African American identity. Anne Elizabeth
Carroll argues that these volumes show how
participants in the movement engaged in the
processes of representation and identity formation
in sophisticated and largely successful ways. Though
they have received little scholarly attention, these
volumes constitute an important aspect of the
cultural production of the Harlem Renaissance.
Word, Image, and the New Negro marks the
beginning of a long-overdue recovery of this legacy
and points the way to a greater understanding of the
potential of texts to influence social change.—amazon.com
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Spectres of 1919: Class and Nation in the
Making of the New Negro
By
Barbara Foley
A carefully argued,
nuanced presentation of the genesis of the
Harlem Renaissance. Foley's breadth of
knowledge in American radical history is
impressive.—American
Literature
Foley's book is a lucid
and useful one... A heavyweight
intervention, it prompts significant
rethinking of the ideological and
representational strategies structuring the
era.—Journal
of American Studies
Foley
does a masterful job of analyzing the racial
and political theories of a wide range of
black and white figures, from the radical
Left to the racist Right... Students of
African American political and cultural
history in the early twentieth century
cannot ignore this book. Essential.—Choice
In our
current time of crisis, when ruling classes
busily promote nationalism and racism to
conceal the class nature of their
inter-imperialist rivalries, one can only
hope that readers will not be daunted by
Foley's dedication to analyzing the
ideological milieu of the 1920s that
contributed to the eclipse of New Negro
radicalism by New Negro nationalism.—Science
& Society |
With the New
Negro movement and the Harlem Renaissance, the 1920s
was a landmark decade in African American political
and cultural history, characterized by an upsurge in
racial awareness and artistic creativity. In
Spectres of 1919 Barbara Foley traces the
origins of this revolutionary era to the turbulent
year 1919, identifying the events and trends in
American society that spurred the black community to
action and examining the forms that action took as
it evolved.
Unlike prior
studies of the Harlem Renaissance, which see 1919 as
significant mostly because of the geographic migrations
of blacks to the North, Spectres of 1919 looks at
that year as the political crucible from which the
radicalism of the 1920s emerged. Foley draws from a
wealth of primary sources, taking a bold new approach to
the origins of African American radicalism and adding
nuance and complexity to the understanding of a
fascinating and vibrant era.— amazon.com
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update 24 September 2008
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