The Power of "Muzungu"

If you have light skin and visit a Bantu country, you will no doubt be called a “muzungu” at one point or another. I have heard a few different stories about the origin of the word.

1. It just means someone with light skin.

2.  It can be translated to something close to “always spinning”. People who travel (foreigners, typically white) are always “spinning”, never settled. Therefore, if they somehow end up in East Africa, they are spinners/foreigners and therefore muzungu (Note: I have never heard an African visiting from a different country be called a muzungu).

 3. A name originally for imperialists who took over the East African kingdoms. People who are light colored are generally in East Africa to “take over” in one way or another, right? (I really hope this is not what babies are thinking when they yell “muzungu” at me from the fabric bundle on their mothers’ backs).

Regardless of where it came from, it has a very concrete meaning in East Africa today: I am light-skinned, I might have a lot of money, and my business is important.

A muzungu goes through approximately four stages of awareness upon learning the word…

Euphoria

Everyone wants to touch my hair and skin. Cool! Little kids love me and I can make their day just by giving them a high-five. Awesome! People acknowledge me when I walk by. Great! One starts to feel somewhat like a celebrity.

Short-fused (somewhat irrational) Annoyance

Please stop touching me. No, I do not have any money that I would like to give you. I cannot help you find a job. It is even less likely that I can find you an American wife (not joking here). I hate overpaying for transport by 40 cents just because of my skin color and my complete lack of knowledge about standard prices (woe is me!).  

Adaptation

I am rubber you are glue and I no longer hear you when you yell at me.  

Realization

Then things start to feel a bit…weird. You realize that you can, and probably have been, taking advantage of people and/or situations because of your skin color. That’s right, you complained and complained, but it really has made your travels easier. Possibly at the expense of others.

People let you go first. Even cutting in line isn’t out of the question (just look confused). “Authorized personnel only” does not apply to you. Want to stroll on into a hospital? Well, if you’re a muzungu, go right ahead (you’re a volunteer, right?)! People are simply less likely to question your authority, especially if you walk with intent. Is it possible that our actions of entitlement are nurturing the very persona we denounce -- the muzungu? Well, duh… We want the perks, we just don’t want to admit that we want them.

During the first month, our group of 22 studied at a school called IPRC. Everyone is required to show ID when they enter the gates. Everyone, that is, except us. Graham, a friend from high school studying in Kigali, and I had a conversation the other day about how the American passport is the like Holy Grail of identification. Unfortunately, you can get away with more if you say you’re American.

The other day, I was walking down the road and saw a small child almost get hit by a car because they wanted to run over to me. The car came so close that I don’t know if the child simply slipped out of their flip-flop or if the tire pinned it to the road. This experience was terrifying and I felt slightly responsible. It is also what made me write this post.

Regardless of their intentions, muzungus need to realize how their presence affects the environment around them. At the very least, recognize the fact that you will be treated a bit differently. If it’s positive, be grateful. If it’s negative, brush it off because the scales are probably still tipped in your favor.