Let’s Talk About African Time

It’s a warm and sunny Sunday afternoon in Lagos. Mike proudly beats his chest, assured that it has been an amazing weekend so far.

Tomorrow he will get back to his new office to meet the many pretty faces beaming with smiles and admiration at his debonair looks and crisp foreign accent. He’s been in Lagos for only two weeks, having just arrived in Nigeria from the foreign land where he was born and bred. He holds a degree in economics plus four years of experience working overseas. Mike is 25. Today is the second Sunday he has spent in his fatherland. Today he looks forward to meeting some of the best-looking female inhabitants of Lagos. His neighbor, Bolus – Bolarinwa, if you want the official version – will be hosting a child naming ceremony in the adjacent compound.

‘There will be lots of food, drinks, music, guests and, of course, babes,” Bolus whispered heartily to Mike last Friday evening when the neighbors met briefly after work. Mike’s eyes sparkled when he heard the last bit. Bolus promptly added that the event would start at 4pm. He gave Mike a colorful card to confirm the invite. So, all day Mike has spent an enormous amount of time to package himself for this august event. By his calculations, since Bolus got married only last year and his wife is still very young and beautiful, naturally her friends should be just as young and good looking. He is sure he will make quite an impression on at least one of them at the event. After all he is still single and, under pressure from his father, seriously searching. Now, it’s the countdown to 4pm.

At exactly 3:50pm Mike hurries out of his house, estimating that the walk will take two to three minutes; add to that the three-and-a-half minutes for opening the gates. Of course he will also need one moment to take a deep breath and reassess his looks before facing up to the bevy of beautiful ladies. His heart flutters at the very thought. For him, this event is definitely not a child-naming-anything - it’s got to be a dating or networking opportunity: more of the former than the latter. As planned, at exactly 4pm, Mike announces his appearances at the door of Bolus’ mansion.

“Hey man, so glad you’re here,” Bolus warmly breathes in Mike’s left ear as they have a quick shoulder-to-shoulder hug, ending with Bolus patting Mike on the back. “My wife just went to the hairdressing salon. From there she’ll stop by her fashion designer’s place to pick up her clothes. She should be back in about 45 minutes, maybe one hour.  We expect the chef to bring the food around 5.30. So, what will you drink lemme get you something”!

Mike stares at his friend in shock. “I don’t understand,” he manages to say. “You mean the event has been cancelled? Why didn’t you at least let me know in advance? Now I see why there is no one else here.”

Bolus sharply reacts in a tone that betrays just little surprise, “Haba! Child naming continues. We expect people to start showing up around 5.30 and yeah we should starts proper by 7pm or so. In fact, the baby is still with my aunt who took her to church. My aunt should be here around 6pm latest.”

“So why did you tell me 4pm?” a bedazzled Mike manages to ask. “Oh, that? Guy, that’s African time. Sorry I should have told you to come at 7pm to avoid stress. I thought you’d understand. You can see I have not even had a shower. We are still fixing the lighting and the DJ should be here soon, and then we’ll set that up. You know, if you want things to start at 7pm, you tell people it’s 4pm. Hahaha! My brother, welcome to Africa!”
Exactly! That’s what they all say. Some people call it Nigerian Time; but after interacting with other Africans in the Diaspora, I now understand why it’s not inappropriate to call this phenomenon African time. Even illiterate non-English-speaking old people in Nigeria understand the English phrase “African Time”!

Of course, it’s easy to dismiss this as a mere stereotype. However, many people easily admit that African time is a stark reality as much in today’s Africa as may have been the case in the past. In Nigeria, some people adhere to it with the fervency of a religious obligation. They expect you to understand. From an economic standpoint, a balance has been struck: either party anticipates that the other will likely not turn up at the agreed time, so each shows up later than was scheduled and finds the other just arriving. That way, no time is really lost; efficiency is not sacrificed.

A curious mind like mine is left to wonder how this phenomenon came to be. African Time! Having pondered all the possible explanations there ever could be, I have tried to narrow down to two, possibly three. One is the fact that in many traditional African communities (in some cases, till date) people told time by reference to natural phenomena such as daylight, the crow of the cock, the tide, the position of the sun, the sounds of certain nocturnal birds etc. It may not be unusual for fishing partners to agree that they’d set out when the first cock crows. These are necessarily not very precise time-telling tools. Admitted that the electronic clock is in every nook and cranny of the continent, dependence on the precision offered by the watch is not yet ingrained in some cultures. This in no way suggests that Africans are new to civilization; in fact, several accounts have it that the first clock was invented in ancient Egypt.

Another possible explanation, deeply rooted in the African culture, is the fact that communal life is highly cherished. Spending “good” time with people, family and friends, is so highly valued that expressing any anxiety or any indication of being pressed for time could be misunderstood as antisocial. Thus Igbo family or village meetings could wind on for hours on end as each speech is laced with one proverb after another prefacing the speaker’s main points. Asking a speaker to take just five minutes could cause serious squabbles or may even offend the gods, who knows? To drive home the essence of communal life, my Andoni people have a saying, put literally: “your toes are more valuable than your money.” Meaning: if you visit a (sick) person, you have done them far greater good than sending millions without your physical presence.

A third possible explanation, and a well known one, is that African time may be an incident of the class system, with ingrained hierarchies, in most traditional African societies. “Big men” are virtually worshipped. Very important people are not supposed to be the first to show up at events. All the common villagers should be there waiting and then the head chief, after sufficiently assuring himself that the arena is full, then makes a grand entry to the loud cheer of the people. If you arrive too early you are probably not so important after all. The real big man does not just arrive late; he is supposed to arrive late, when everyone else is waiting. To an extent, this is still true in modern Nigeria.

Now, as controversial as this may sound, there is so much virtue in not keeping time. Did I just say that? Yes! Imagine a soothingly relaxed life: no deadlines and no one is in a hurry; no one will be punished for arriving late; no bomb will go off just because you didn’t defuse it within the last 35 seconds available; you won’t miss a train if you stroll instead of trot – yeah, nothing can be closer to mother nature! Heart attacks will be unheard-of in that world of perfect bliss. And (stress-induced) headaches will be plain fiction.

But that paradise is now a mirage. The 21st century human is a virtual slave to time. The wired world is built on mathematical formulas with all the precision there ever can be. With phone bills chasing people everywhere and lots of real-time intercontinental business relationships already the order of the day, the carefree attitude to time is a modern day taboo.  In this digital world, it is almost an abomination to have an endless, untimed banter with friends as one would in a small, secluded, serene village. As a result, these days, you can afford to be habitually punctual without being called a “village headmaster” or “Nwa Teacher” (both derogatory terms for fairly educated Nigerians who lived in the image of the colonial masters).

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To be sure, “African Time” is not peculiar to Africa. I recently honored an evening invitation by a friend from South America and had to wait for two hours and thirty minutes into the night before any meaningful number of his people showed up. The early callers who came two hours after my arrival explained that it’s called “Latin Time,” derived from Latin America. People are generally expected to show up not earlier than ninety minutes after the scheduled time, they educated me. A Japanese friend also told me that he observed the same trend in India. Some Indians admit it. And I know a British friend who characteristically shows up late for virtually everything. So Nigerians, nay Africans, may not just be alone. Yet in no way does that justify African Time.

Granted that we may have had reasons in the past to practice the religion called African time, can we still afford it in this age? A Nigerian friend told me that he is prompt when the invitation is from “oyinbo people” but not so when the hosts are “our brothers.” Really?! Seriously, let’s talk about African Time!
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