‘I am tired of being a black man in India'

By: Ezeugo Nnmadi Lawrence

Hindustan Times

I came to India three years ago. When the plane that brought me from  Nigeria finally touched down in Delhi, I felt exhilarated. I was ready  to embrace a new culture and its people. This, after all, was the land  of Mahatma Gandhi.

Then 21 years old, I was almost childlike about  wanting to discover India — its history; its vast and varied territory;  its diverse people; its food; its languages; its music and its movies. I  had enrolled for a course at the Delhi Paramedical & Management  Institute, and I walked into class with a broad smile on my face.

I  was unprepared for the racist onslaught. It has hit me with unforgiving  consistency, every single day, for the last three years that I have  been here. The racist slurs, the frightened looks, the deep and long  stares are a part of my everyday life. I am not alone. Every African in  India has the same experience.

The first Hindi word I learned was  ‘kallu’. I continue to hear it everywhere I go. In the classroom; on the  street; at the vegetable vendor’s stall; in the neighbourhood where I  live in South Delhi — I am constantly reminded that I am black, and that  I am judged by the colour of my skin.

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