Nigerian Community Divided by Fear, Suspicion : Immigrants: Small but growing enclave in the San Gabriel Valley seeks to distance itself from countrymen who have commited crimes.
At least 10,000 Nigerians are estimated to be living in Southern California, but Onochie Chukwurah wants nothing to do with most of the other 9,999.
Since immigrating from the West African nation in 1969, Chukwurah has sought to perpetuate his native culture, first performing as a drummer, choreographer and storyteller, then opening a crafts shop in Los Angeles.
But rather than enjoying the support of his compatriots, he contends that some of them have robbed him, abused his hospitality and tried to lure him into the underworld.
“I don’t hate Nigerians, but I don’t want their problems to be mine,” said Chukwurah, 45, who moved his shop to Monrovia earlier this year to distance himself from his countrymen. “There’s no unity. It’s brother fighting brother.”
The search for unity is at the heart of the Southland’s growing Nigerian population, which has been fragmented by ethnic differences, financial burdens and the emergence of a fraud network that law enforcement officials say is run by a “Nigerian Mafia.”
That dilemma was the theme of the League of Patriotic Nigerians’ first annual symposium in West Covina last week entitled, “Improving the Image of the Nigerian-American Community.”
Although only a few hundred Nigerians live in the San Gabriel Valley, the group likes the area’s central location and hopes to one day establish a regional headquarters here for Southern California’s Nigerian population, believed to be one of the largest concentrations in the country.
Leaders say they must work to shed the negative image resulting from the arrests of hundreds of Nigerians nationwide over the last decade in connection with a series of elaborate schemes involving bogus checks and credit cards.
At Wednesday’s press conference at West Covina City Hall, the Patriotic League took great pains to point out that the majority of Nigerian immigrants are motivated by “rugged determination,” not the desire to defraud.
“To cast (all Nigerians) in the despicable light of moral bankruptcy because of the indiscretion of a few bad eggs . . . is an indefensible act and tantamount to a crime against humanity,” Ayodele M. Akingbemi, publisher of the group’s newsletter, told the crowd of about 40 Nigerians.
But even such a well-intentioned gathering revealed some of the distrust dividing the community in other parts of Los Angeles County.
During the previous week, a thick stack of flyers advertising the event sat untouched on the bar of the African Safari Restaurant in Inglewood. Because the scheduled speakers included representatives of the Los Angeles Police Department and U.S. Customs Service, many patrons reacted as though it were a sting operation.
“It’s like you get there and (they might say) ‘We’ve been looking for you. Put your hands up,’ ” said Godwin Ekeke, the restaurant’s Nigerian-born owner. “My customers are not responding nicely to it.”
Nigerians first began coming to the U.S. in large numbers during the 1970s, when an oil boom turned Africa’s most populous nation into one of its wealthiest. Many returned to Nigeria with doctorate degrees and joined the country’s professional class.
As Nigeria’s economy began to sour in the early 1980s, many Nigerians in the U.S. decided to stay in this country, where an estimated 50,000 to 60,000 now reside.
A small number of them--officials don’t know exactly how many--turned to illegal activities.
Highly educated and proficient in English, they were linked to scams ranging from making false passports to selling black market airline tickets.
More recently, Nigerian nationals have been accused of supplying about 25% of the U.S. heroin market, smuggling the drug in swallowed balloons or condoms, according to Drug Enforcement Administration agents. A place kicker with the Minnesota Vikings, Donald Igwebuike, is awaiting trial on charges that he conspired to smuggle heroin from Nigeria by such means.
In Los Angeles County, about 400 Nigerians have been identified as white-collar crime suspects over the last six years, said Los Angeles Police Detective John Brown, who is assigned full time to investigate Nigerian fraud.
Brown, a guest speaker at the West Covina conference, estimated that Nigerians account for about 5% of all fraud cases in the county--a percentage far greater than that of their population, but not big enough to account for what many Nigerians believe is a bad rap.
“We have good honest people,” said Reuben Jaja of West Covina, the Patriotic League’s president.
An article this month in the African Connection, a Nigerian-owned newspaper based in Los Angeles, speculated that some immigrants arrive with unrealistic expectations.
“Nigerians have a misleading perception of America as a land of honey, a place where, faced with economic suffocation at home, they can easily strike the proverbial gold,” it said. “The American visa has become the golden fleece in Nigeria.”
The reality is that even well-educated Nigerians may find themselves working as security guards or taxi drivers, some holding down multiple jobs to keep up appearances of success.
“Everyone’s out for themselves,” Chukwurah said the other day, surrounded by African clothing in his Monrovia store. “They think, ‘How can I outdo him?’ not, ‘How can I help him?’ ”
The situation is complicated by the historic rivalries among some of Nigeria’s 250 tribal groups, as well as its three ethnic languages--Yoruba, Ibo and Hausa.
Even when there are opportunities to get together, some Nigerian immigrants say they avoid contact with their countrymen for fear of unknowingly rubbing shoulders with unsavory characters.
“I won’t go over to a table and say, ‘Hi, you’re Nigerians?’ ” a Los Angeles County social worker said last week as he lunched on a plate of fufu --a doughy mash of yam and rice flour--at the African Safari. “You never know who they are. I don’t want everything that I’ve built in the last eight years to come crumbling down.”
The League of Patriotic Nigerians prides itself on being a professional organization far removed from the community’s shadowy side. Formed in 1986 and supported by about 10,000 members nationwide, the group boasts doctors, lawyers, accountants and engineers--many of whom arrived in the first wave of immigration two decades ago.
“We want people who will bring us credibility,” said Alex Taire, the league’s vice president. “You have to conduct yourself with respect for the laws wherever you are living.”
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