Edan Johna

Political Science Major, Class of 2007

It has been less than a week since my return from Niger and the thoughts are still constantly running freshly through my mind. While we were still there I was too preoccupied with my own experience and my basic survival to truly deeply reflect about everything that I was seeing and feeling. Before our departure I felt mostly anxious. I was anxious to get there and see with my own two eyes the very things that we studied and discussed throughout the semester in class.

Many of the other students in the class expressed fear, uncertainty, nervousness, and other feelings of insecurity—all of which are legitimate when preparing to go to an unknown place. Personally, I felt none of these; not because I am an exceptionally brave person, but because I felt that the class provided me with a sufficient amount of knowledge of the country and with the proper expectations prior to our departure. I was not shocked or discomforted by the fact that I had to go to the bathroom in a hole or by the swarm of people that followed us around as we walked the streets of Agadez.

Conversely, I was pleasantly surprised at how well we were being treated as we toured the country. I felt as if we were being unfairly spoiled by our gracious hosts—bathed in excess in a land of limited resources.

I think that the single most important part of the experience for me was the deep human connection that I established with the land and its people. For a long time I viewed the African experience as a collective—to put it bluntly, a collective suffering. Deeply ingrained in my mind were the popular images of Africa, a beautiful land with a highly disenfranchised populace. But after my many conversations and exchanges—some brief, others lengthy—with Africans in their own land, my outlook has been positively transformed. The people of Africa are still largely disenfranchised and the greater global implications remain depressing, but a new dichotomy exists in my mind.

On one hand the situation in Niger is dire and will remain so until further development takes place, but on the other hand the people are amazingly strong, happy people that are rich with character and pride. So from now on if I think of a particular problem that affects Niger I will not be able to conjure up the typical images that used to pollute my mind prior to the trip. Rather I will think of the smiling faces of Riza, Ousmane, Mallam Souleman, Fatima, Ali, Ibrahim, and everyone else that I was fortunate enough to cross paths with during those two weeks.

I will forever be inspired by the attitude with which the people approach life’s many troubles and inadequacies and will look at obstacles in my own life with the phrase lafiya lo in mind. There is nothing more worthy of respect than the feeling one gets from the average Nigérien : willingness to give you the very little that he has when you are in need.

I have been deeply inspired by this trip to continue to pursue a career that will allow me to give back to underprivileged places like Niger. This trip has truly been a beginning of a life of “dialogue of civilizations.”