Nigerians are often perceived as loud, fraudulent and arrogant, but some are trying hard to change their own - and others' - attitudes, writes Carl O'Brien
The framed photograph, placed prominently behind Celia Otubu's desk, shows her beaming broadly and proudly clutching a rolled-up certificate. "That's my certificate of entry into the Law Society of Ireland," she explains. "My colleague and I were the first African solicitors to be enrolled in its 150-year history. It used to raise eyebrows. In court I got a certain look. One judge confused me with my client, for example. But people know me now. I don't have any problems any more."
More than most, Otubu is aware of how her background and qualifications set her apart from the stereotypical view of Nigerians in Ireland.
"The common perception is that we are loud, fraudulent and arrogant. I don't see why the actions of one or two Nigerians who commit a crime should give the rest of the community a bad reputation."
Official figures suggest there are around 10,000 Nigerians resident in Ireland, although support groups acknowledge this is likely to be a substantial underestimate. Nigerians account for the highest number of applications - some 40 per cent, compared to Romania, the second highest, which accounts for around 15 per cent of applications.
At one stage Nigerian asylum-seekers in Europe tended to be based almost exclusively in Ireland, due largely to Ireland's citizenship laws, the English language and our proximity to Britain. Many applicants, however, left the asylum system and secured residency on the basis of having Irish-born children. Just a fraction of asylum applicants, around 4 per cent last year, successfully received refugee status.
More recently, as a result of the Supreme Court ruling on the issue of Irish-born children in February 2003, the numbers seeking refugee status have dropped by around 30 per cent, as have overall numbers. While most asylum applications are regarded as "manifestly unfounded", Amnesty International says hundreds in Nigeria have died recently in intercommunal violence in Lagos and other areas, while armed militias linked to the state are responsible for torture and inhuman treatment in the south.
Irish attitudes towards Nigerians, perhaps more than most ethnic minorities, are overwhelmingly negative. The community has not been helped by reports of some Nigerians engaged in credit card fraud and a perception they are at the forefront of what the Government has labelled "citizenship tourism". Asylum groups, however, say attitudes have been hardened by official policies preventing asylum seekers taking up paid employment, lack of contact with Irish people, and sensationalist media coverage.
"It can be difficult," says Remi Awogboro of the Nigerian Support Group. "If I'm not working, people think I'm on the dole or I'm collecting money. If I'm working, people think I have to come to take over their job."
Olatunji Awonusi, a father of two in his early 30s, is one of four Nigerians working for the credit card company MBNA Ireland in Carrick-on-Shannon, Co Leitrim. He left his home in the north of Nigeria to seek a more secure environment away from what he says was the ever-present threat of volatility. He eventually secured residency here on the basis of having an Irish-born child.
"I wanted freedom and safety and the freedom to bring up a very young family," he says, now the father of two babies, Sineád and Samuel. He first secured a job with C&D Petfoods, run by former Taoiseach Albert Reynolds's son, which he found "extremely receptive and very fair". His position in MBNA, he says, is also enjoyable with an almost family atmosphere. He says negative perceptions of the community are driven by numerous factors, including cultural differences, which the Nigerian community is not always aware of.
"People say Africans are very loud but that's our culture. I asked my local TD once what were we doing wrong. He said that it was little things like jumping queues and being loud. So we started correcting ourselves. We met and said we are in another country. So if you're in the post office for example and someone rings you, you say 'call me back'. That's how things are changing."
Amid the heated political debate over the numbers of asylum-seekers coming here to secure citizenship for their children, Olatunji questions whether this factor is as large as it has been made out to be.
"A baby is a gift from God. It can take a long time to get a woman pregnant - it's a miracle. You can't just create life. It's not very appreciative of what God is doing to say you can."
Religion is a major issue for the Nigerian community and the weekly church service is the main gathering in a week where there is often little free time to mix with others. On a Saturday afternoon, amid the dreary metal-and-concrete sprawl of Bluebell industrial estate in west Dublin, there is no sign of life. The warehouses are shut. The garages are closed. The car parks are empty. But then, as you make your way along the road, something remarkable happens. Approaching one of the anonymous pre-fabricated buildings, you begin to hear the uplifting strains of a gospel choir in full voice. Inside the cavernous structure, decked out with balloons, the building is abuzz with hundreds of well-dressed Nigerian men, women and children, singing and swaying in time to the music.
This is the setting for the Redeemed Christian Church of Jesus, one of the most popular religious organisations among the Nigerian population here. Today is also graduation day and 30 members of the church have completed bible studies which may see them go on to become a pastor or a lay missionary.
"The church provides us with hope and a moral upbringing," says Tony Assai, of Dundalk, Co Louth, one of the graduates. "It helps people to become good citizens. During the week when people are down, and when they come here, they feel lighter, more full of hope." What started off as a small gathering of Nigerians now has some 35 parishes around the country. And there are plans to further expand the church.
"Many Irish people come but they often don't stay and maybe they feel isolated and uncomfortable," he says. "My aim is to get more people for Christ and reach out to the Irish people. It might be difficult because of the culture but, with integration, learning more about Irish people, it will begin to happen."
Across town, the basement waiting-room of Ceemex & Co Solicitors, which Celia Otubu co-founded, is crowded with young African and Asian people. They are mostly seeking legal advice related to residency applications or work visas. For many of them, their future here depends on the attitudes and decisions of anonymous officials in a process they find hard to comprehend. Celia Otubu says in many ways it is institutional racism, rather than prejudice among ordinary Irish people, which is worst.
"I have a lot of Irish friends, I have Irish clients here. My problem is not with them. There is institutional racism here and until that is dealt with, it will continue to be a problem. You can see it in the way sentences are handed out in the courts. When Irish males or females are in court on alcohol-related offences, it is often dismissed with a wave of a hand or a fine. If it's a non-national, the story is much different."
The Dublin-based solicitor is also extremely critical of the manner in which the Government is holding its referendum on citizenship to coincide with the local elections.
"Every country is entitled to determine its citizenship rules. But I don't agree with Minister McDowell over the reasons for this. He said hospitals were being overrun by non-nationals, but the statistics don't show this. The Minister is stirring up racial sentiment and playing the race card. The danger is that Irish people will believe they are really are being overrun by immigrants."
In the end, Otunu says, Nigerians and other non-nationals have much to offer Ireland and this should be recognised.
"We are a hard-working people - look at Moore Street. It used to be a dead street. Now it's like Oshodi [the business district of Lagos], there is a lot of life, the landlords are happy. Dublin is a multi-cultural society now, and I don't know anyone who would want to change this now."