A Legal Alien

You know the song by Sting: An Englishman in New York? The chorus goes something like this: “I’m an alien, I’m a legal alien, I’m an Englishman in New York.”

I am improvising that song for me to go like this: “I’m an alien, I’m a legal alien, I’m an….” Actually, there’s a problem now for I don’t quite know whether to add “Nigerian in Ghana” to that or “British Nigerian in Ghana” or “London Nigerian in Ghana”. Confused? Well, that makes two of us.

So, with Sting's melody ringing in my head, I began to think of all my legal alien experiences.

Heard the one about the gardener?
At 6am he calls on the phone. “Madam, I am coming this morning.” “Please it’s too early to be calling me. Call me back after 7.30.” The gardener never showed again – apparently offended that his madam had told him that a 6am phone call to say that he would be reporting to work was too early.

Heard the one about the roundabout?
Here I was, approaching a roundabout and I stop, as there is another vehicle actually on the roundabout and I am waiting for him to move on so I can move in. Guess what? On the round about, he slows down for me and stops and gestures to me to move in. Bewildered, I shook my head and said at him: ‘’You have right of way. Move. This is how accidents start.” The guy angrily uttered words I care not to repeat. I am sure that he thought I was off my rocker.

And the one about the renowned private hospitals?
A friend and her colleague go to donate blood. The nurse’s gloves are stained with the blood. My friend remarks that she would like the nurse to change his gloves before taking her blood. His response? “What’s your problem? Isn’t it your colleague’s blood?”

Another friend’s son goes for his yellow fever vaccinations. The nurse is only able to inject in half of the vaccine – the injection just won’t push down any further. My friend realized that they are using the wrong type of injections for the vaccines.

And the one about the driver?
He gets a premium salary, for the comfort of working longer hours. Perhaps twice maybe three times the salary of the average driver. You give him a tip at least twice a week but unfailingly every month there’s at least one urgent family incident that necessitates him asking for an advance, or a loan, or both.

And the one about the African time?
Meetings do not generally start on time – period. Thirty minutes late, at least. The Africa Business Leaders Forum was held here last week – note, Africa Business Leaders, so a whole load of people from Africa had been invited and paid to attend the forum. Opening day. 8.30 start, to be opened by the President. 8.30 come and goes. Not even the organizers had arrived at 7.45am. The start was delayed by at least an hour and a half. At the morning breakout session I attended on the first day, three of the panel speakers did not turn up – and we start two hours late.

And the one about the ladies at the till in supermarkets?
I soon realized that there’s no point in losing your temper. They serve you, but they serve you at the most leisurely of paces – and they serve you whilst they chat with the adjacent cashier. Forget the fact that all you want to do is pay for your groceries and get out of the supermarket.

And the one about the carpenter who makes you a table that wobbles?
“Madam, I don’t know why you are annoyed. This table is okay. Look at it. It is standing. You can put things on it”

And the one about ….

Imagine how our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ must have felt for all those 33 years on earth?