I felt I was losing my culture after my family left Nigeria. Turns out, Canada helped me embrace it

This First Person article is written by Ridhwanlai Badmos, a high school student in Winnipeg. For more information about CBC's First Person stories, please see the FAQ.

When I was four, my family and I left the only home we had known in Nigeria and moved to Canada. My parents wanted a better future for our family, and after a few years of moving around, we settled in Winnipeg.

When we first arrived, I could only speak Yoruba. My mom encouraged us to speak our native tongue at home, but it was hard when I was learning English at school.

Little by little, I lost bits of my Nigerian culture as I focused more on fitting into Canada. At cultural parties, I chose to wear jeans instead of my traditional clothes. Without Yoruba, I felt like I couldn't relate with fellow Nigerians in my community. Even my taste buds changed. My mom always tells me I used to love amala, but now I can't even stand the taste of the yam dish. I'd gotten too used to fast food burgers and other sugary treats.

But one day, I woke up feeling bold. My mom often sewed clothes and had ordered some Nigerian fabric to make a beautiful blue shirt for me. I was supposed to save it for an upcoming cultural celebration, but I really loved it and couldn't wait to wear it. So, after a few weeks I decided to wear it to school. I felt nervous because I hadn't seen anyone else wearing anything like it at school. I didn't want to be singled out, but I whispered to myself, "Today's going to be a great day." 

Throughout that day my heart was pounding, yet I couldn't stop smiling. I was

ready for a few snickers here and there, but I received nothing but curiosity and kindness. It made me wonder, why had I been so afraid to wear my traditional clothing?

A few months later, I was tapped by my vice-principal to help create a calendar of all the holidays and celebrations our school's student population took part in. I also participated in other diversity, equity and inclusion activities organized by the school division. For example, I read out loud from a children's book celebrating Black boyhood to younger students in the division. 

While our school division initially led the initiative on these activities, I was inspired and wanted more, so I decided that it was time for us — the students in my school — to take action and have a council that represented the diversity in our student population. That's how my friends and I started the school's Diversity, Equity and Inclusion Council in 2022. 

That same year, a friend showed me a TikTok of students at another school celebrating their cultures and wearing their traditional clothing. She said, "We should have that," and I thought it was a great idea. She brought the idea to our council, and after a few discussions, we decided to make the idea even bigger and better by hosting our school's first ever cultural month that May.

Throughout the month, we served different cultural foods in the canteen every Wednesday. We had South Asian samosas, Filipino pancit and Nigerian puff puff. Some teachers were so impressed that they started having their own potlucks in their classrooms. 

We interviewed fellow students about what cultural diversity meant to them and projected these videos throughout our school. We also had classroom discussions where students talked about cultural stereotypes and could ask questions about anything they'd been curious about without the fear of being cancelled. For example, one student asked me if I was from a tribe and if it was OK to use that word or if it meant something like a savage. I happily explained that it was fine to use that word in the proper context. For example, Nigeria has four main tribes, and I am from the Yoruba tribe. 

At one of the events, my friends Shafia and Ushna explained why they wear hijabs and their experiences with racial profiling in Canada. Even though I'm a Muslim man with family members who wear hijabs, I hadn't thought too deeply about how their experiences might be different from mine. It gave me a newfound respect for the women in my life. 

It taught me to sometimes take a pause in my everyday life and to be inquisitive and curious about others and their stories. I shouldn't feel shy to seek knowledge.