I’ve been following the discourse on here about cultural appropriation, and sometimes I find myself thinking: why are we arguing about these things? But then I remember how often cultural appropriation goes hand in hand with bigotry and ethnocentrism.
There’s an up-and-coming Nigerian fashion designer who is clearly talented and has enjoyed some success with a few of her bestselling pieces. She trended on here a few weeks ago over accusations that she was using aṣọ òkè in her designs without properly acknowledging its Yorùbá origins.
I wanted to contribute to that conversation, but I hesitated because we have a mutual friend who is very dear to me. The one time I met this designer was at that friend’s birthday gathering.
To be fair, she was extremely pleasant when we were introduced. I said my name, which is unmistakably Yorùbá, and her response was along the lines of: “Wow, you’re Yorùbá? I’m surprised, because Yorùbá women don’t tend to look this well put together…”
She struggled to get the words out. I was staring back at her, silently waiting for her to finish. You know that look that says: go on, say what you were about to say….
I think the realisation of just how offensive her remark was dawned on her halfway through. But she’d already started, and I wasn’t going to help her finish the thought or make it more comfortable for her.
I let her speak. I didn’t encourage the remark, but I didn’t challenge her there and then either. It was my friend’s birthday, and I didn’t want to spoil her day by getting into it. But I absolutely took offence. I’ve heard versions of that statement several times, and I have never accepted it as a compliment. There is nothing complimentary about being presented as an exception to someone’s low opinion of Yorùbá women.
Interestingly, I didn’t leave that encounter thinking she was a bad or mean-spirited person. Her manner towards me had otherwise been pleasant. What I left with was the impression of someone carrying deeply ingrained prejudices about Yorùbá people, which she couldn’t quite stop from revealing in that moment. Pleasantness and prejudice can coexist.
So, when I later saw the controversy about her use of aṣọ òkè, a fabric so deeply rooted in Yorùbá heritage, I couldn’t help remembering that exchange. Here was someone whose work drew on our culture, yet whose surprise at my appearance had exposed what she thought of our women.
That is why I struggle to dismiss these conversations as people simply looking for something to be offended by. Someone can admire what a culture produces, recognise its commercial value and build a business around it, while still looking down on the people it comes from. When questions of acknowledgement and erasure arise, that prejudice matters.
Yes, I sometimes find the exchanges on here distasteful. They so often descend into the chaos and insults this app is known for. But the way a conversation deteriorates does not make the underlying concern any less valid.
We must continue to have these conversations and call out attempts to erase or deny cultural heritage. Because too often, the willingness to take from a culture without giving its people their due sits very comfortably alongside bigotry towards those same people.