Cuisine and Color

By Hannah Dreesbach

A Native Nigerian’s Impressions of Montana

MSU student Ochuwa Imokhai discusses expectations and misconceptions across cultures

I met Ochuwa Imokhai in October of 2020. A prospective new roommate, she walked into the house armed with a ready (albeit watchful) smile. After I failed several times to pronounce her Nigerian name, she introduced herself by her given English name: Precious. 

Unlike some MSU students, Precious didn’t come to Montana for the mountains. “Honestly, I didn’t know anything about Montana until I got a spam email that had an ad about Montana State University, and then I looked into the school’s location and everything. It seemed peaceful and not hot—which Nigeria is—and I was trying to avoid heat.”

Montana certainly didn’t disappoint. When she and her family stepped off the plane in 2018, they were greeted by snow and freezing temperatures. “The weather [here] is freaking cold and dry! I grew up in Lagos, like [the] Lagos Island area in Nigeria. And the area I grew up [in] was so hot and wet.”

Climate isn’t the only aspect that sets Nigeria’s largest population center apart from Bozeman. With over 15.3 million people in the city limits alone, Lagos is a mixing pot of different tribes known across much of Africa for its lively music, fashion, and Nollywood film industries. Bozeman, by contrast, is uncrowded, quiet, and—according to Precious—lacking in the spice department.

“Cuisine?” she repeats with a laugh when asked about the food here in Montana. “What cuisine?” She means no offense to our infinite selection of burgers, fries, and barbeque wings, but it’s certainly not the food she grew up with. “Home food is wonderful! Spicy, tasteful, savory. Name it, Naija [slang for Nigeria], we gorrit. ‘Gorrit’ is how Nigerians say we got it. It’s broken English—pidgin.”

When she doesn’t have time to cook, Precious misses that food (especially the street food), but it’s certainly not the only absence that reminds her of home. “I also miss how I wasn’t always conscious of certain things, because there were just so many like me. That peace was rewarding.” 

In Montana, it’s not easy being a foreigner, let alone a foreigner of color. “I thought it would be like heaven,” Precious admits, thinking back on her preconceptions of the United States. She would be attending school in the home of the free, the land of the brave… But the country she encountered wasn’t quite so straightforward. “It’s definitely not the heaven I imagined. There are a lot of problems.” 

From the start, she struggled to make friends. Many of them seemed to want the bragging rights of knowing an African, of being able to say, “I’m not a racist.” 

“When I needed help, I didn’t really have help. I was always getting stared at; always feeling like someone was watching me … Sometimes I would have teachers single me out.”

And it wasn’t much easier in the small Black community on campus. “You have the Black people who have been in America their whole lives and you have us African people who lived different lives… It’s interesting, but unfortunately we are divided, and don’t really view each other on the same level.”

It’s a sad thing that Precious muses. “Sometimes I am viewed for myself, and other times for my skin.” The latter can be profoundly lonely.

The U.S. Census Bureau estimates that Montana is approximately 88.9% white. Just 0.6% of our population identifies as Black or African American, and five-year estimates put the proportion of individuals born in a foreign country at around 2.2%. Unless we travel, much of what anyone knows about other ethnicities (let alone other countries) is what we see on television or social media. 

“To some people, you have to explain that Africa is not a country, it is a continent.” This specific continent is three times the size of the United States and home to over 1.2 billion people. It should come as little surprise that each of its 54 countries is a distinct blend of cultures, languages, and traditions. 

“You have some very close-minded people [here],” Precious asserts. “They will be arguing with you about your own country.” Still, she also admits to being just as guilty of close-mindedness when she first arrived in Montana. 

“I was very conservative with my beliefs and opinions: I based them off [of] religion. I was using religion as a way to get away with judging people.” Especially so, she notes, with the LGBTQ+ community. “Because you know, in Nigeria, you’re condemned for that… But I met some exceptional people.” Sometimes, meeting an exceptional person is all it takes to flip a misconception on its head. Of all the lessons Precious has taught me in a year and a half of knowing her, that is one of the most profound. 

I ask if Precious has any advice to give Montana. She only has to think for a moment: “It would be to have an open mind, and to not be judgmental. And,” she adds, “stop staring at people that aren’t like you. It’s rude.”

Ochuwa Imokhai is pursuing a Bachelor’s in Biomedical Science and Organismal Biology. After graduating, she plans to attend medical school and continue into the healthcare field.