It
was supposed to be one of those boring lunches with diplomats
determined to sell a positive image of their country, but a recent lunch
with the Korean Ambassador to Nigeria, Mr. Noh Kyu-Duk and his
lieutenants didn’t go according to that script.
The Embassy of the Republic of Korea;
that is South Korea for those who are still confused about the two
Koreas, in Abuja is a sprawling beige edifice in the Maitama district of
Abuja, distinguished by the blue and red Korean Ying-Yang fixed on the
walls.
It is here that the Korean ambassador resides. And it was here that a number of print and broadcast journalists were invited to lunch with the new ambassador, who recently just resumed in Nigeria.
Upon arrival, we were ushered into a briefing room where we were joined by the ambassador, the Deputy Head of Mission, Mr. Uhm Taeho, the Economic Counsellor Lee Dae Sup, the Director of the Korea International Cooperation Agency (KOICA) as well as the Director of the Korean Cultural Centre, Mr Kwon Yong Ik.
Trust the Koreans. A meeting with journalists was an opportunity to share their history and the story of their economic growth as well as their contribution to the Nigerian economy, which of course are numerous.
They have been pursuing a vibrant cultural diplomacy that has seen the establishment of the KCCN in Abuja, a busy agency that constantly puts Korean culture on the consciousness of Nigerians with regular activities and spectacular showcases.
The presentation was smooth. The slides changed suavely, the ambassador’s voice was steady and full of pride as he spoke about the growth of his country’s economy.
But then he got to the Korean War. A slide came up. A photo of war survivors scavenging for food among the ruins of their capital, Seoul.
“Terrible, terrible situation,” he said, his voice quavering.
More slides. More photos. It was like watching a country rise from ruins to glory, highlighted by a satellite image of the Korean Peninsula at night. The southern part is dotted by dazzling lights. The northern part has only one bright spot-Pyongyang, the capital of North Korea.
“Everywhere is dark, except the capital,” the ambassador said of the neighbouring country.
And when a slide came up of North Koreans bowing to the massive statues of their founding fathers, and another of adoring women clinging to the arms of the current leader, Kin Jong Un, and crying like devotees in the presence of their deity, the ambassador said: “North Korea is like a religious cult. They are brainwashed to cry around their leaders.”
Every time he spoke of the North, there was always deep-rooted emotion in his voice; despair, disappointment, sometimes a tinge of hope - hope for a possible reunification with his kin across the border.
The Koreans are the same people. They speak the same language, worship the same gods (or at least they used to) and practiced the same culture until politics split them. Now, no two countries could be more different. Communist North, socialist South. Prosperous South, impoverished North.
Beyond politics, however, there is a personal hurt, a deep one that runs through several generations. Since the war that ended in 1953, the new border, one of the most militarised zones in the world, has not only divided a country, but split families, lovers and friends.
“My mother has not seen her mother and sisters since the war because they are trapped in the North,” the ambassador said.
Such stories of separated families are all too common among Koreans. Later in the hallways, as we headed to the ambassador’s residence, the Deputy Head of Mission, Uhm Taeho, would recount the story of his ninety-something-year-old father whose relatives are all in the North.
“He is old now and we don’t know if he will ever get the chance to see his relatives again,” he said.
But while still in the briefing hall, another slide came up. Two old people overcome by emotion, crying and holding on to each other. They are relatives separated by the war and the border, reunited by a complex family reunion arrangement between the two countries that allow the relatives on different sides of the border to meet under close watch.
“When we give them food, they agree to allow the programme hold,” the ambassador said of the incentives they have offered the North to allow such meetings to happen.
He inclined his head and looked at the photo of the freckled, chubby, old man and the wrinkly, wiry old woman. “Which one from the North, which one from the South?” he asked.
The wild laughter that followed did not in any way dampen the tragedy that that photo represents. And with North Korea declaring within the week that it was facing possibly the worst drought in its history, the chances of that old woman, and millions like her, gaining a few more pounds look even slimmer.
Korea has had complex relations with some of its neighbours. Before 1950, the biggest villains in the eyes of the Koreans were the Japanese. They had invaded the country and destroyed many parts of the South, including its historical palaces. The occupation that lasted between 1910 and 1945, left a legacy not just of ruined historical buildings, damaged national pride and a nasty history of colonisation. It left a lingering scar that has refused to heal, even with the passage of time.
Now the relationship between the two countries can only be compared to that between Germany and Poland, fraught with deep-rooted resentment, guilt and hate. Something that would take more than a few senior diplomats discussing around a table to resolve.
How did Korea recover from the legacy of a brutal colonisation and a devastating civil war?
“We don’t have a lot of resources,” the ambassador said, “but we have a lot of people.”
Fifty Million people won’t seem like a lot to Nigerians who already have more than three times that population and all the resources the Koreans can only dream of, but for the Koreans it is enough resources to turn their economy around.
Today, Korea is a global hub in manufacturing and ICT as well as the global model for e-governance, a model they are all too happy to share with Nigeria, as the ambassador said.
It has been 35 years now since Nigeria and Korea forged diplomatic ties, with trade volumes between the two countries hitting over $300 billion.
Over lunch, at the ambassador’s residence, starting with a sumptuous, delightful looking pumpkin soup that glowed like liquid gold in a bowl and tasted just as rich, discussions ranged from the similarities between the African and the Asian countries on issues touching on culture, economy and social norms, even the LGBT debate turned up.
In admiration of the Koreans well-preserved cultural heritage and its unified people, a Nigerian journalist decried the lack of unity among Nigerians.
“If we have a common culture like the Koreans, we would have achieved more. But now we are fighting over which tribe should occupy which office and whatnots,” he said.
There were murmurs of approval around the table. Until another journalist said: “With all our ethnic and regional differences, what we Nigerians have managed to do is to club each other to death occasionally. The Koreans, North and South, are the same people, the same family, and have the same belief, but today, because of political differences, there is a chance that one Korea could nuke the other.”
Over a sumptuous serving of Bibimpap, a Korean cuisine of rice and vegetables and a side dish of fish fingerlings, what some Nigerians would call Ido dubu a miya or ‘a thousand eyes in the soup,’ what became clear was that if the example of Korea and Somalia are considered, a uniform culture and tribe is no guarantee for peaceful coexistence between people, neither is the possession of national resources and a massive population any guarantee of growth as the Nigerian example demonstrates.
What Nigeria can certainly learn from Korea though that no matter the obstacles, any country can rise to the pinnacle with some hard work and commitment. And taking pride in its culture.
It is here that the Korean ambassador resides. And it was here that a number of print and broadcast journalists were invited to lunch with the new ambassador, who recently just resumed in Nigeria.
Upon arrival, we were ushered into a briefing room where we were joined by the ambassador, the Deputy Head of Mission, Mr. Uhm Taeho, the Economic Counsellor Lee Dae Sup, the Director of the Korea International Cooperation Agency (KOICA) as well as the Director of the Korean Cultural Centre, Mr Kwon Yong Ik.
Trust the Koreans. A meeting with journalists was an opportunity to share their history and the story of their economic growth as well as their contribution to the Nigerian economy, which of course are numerous.
They have been pursuing a vibrant cultural diplomacy that has seen the establishment of the KCCN in Abuja, a busy agency that constantly puts Korean culture on the consciousness of Nigerians with regular activities and spectacular showcases.
The presentation was smooth. The slides changed suavely, the ambassador’s voice was steady and full of pride as he spoke about the growth of his country’s economy.
But then he got to the Korean War. A slide came up. A photo of war survivors scavenging for food among the ruins of their capital, Seoul.
“Terrible, terrible situation,” he said, his voice quavering.
More slides. More photos. It was like watching a country rise from ruins to glory, highlighted by a satellite image of the Korean Peninsula at night. The southern part is dotted by dazzling lights. The northern part has only one bright spot-Pyongyang, the capital of North Korea.
“Everywhere is dark, except the capital,” the ambassador said of the neighbouring country.
And when a slide came up of North Koreans bowing to the massive statues of their founding fathers, and another of adoring women clinging to the arms of the current leader, Kin Jong Un, and crying like devotees in the presence of their deity, the ambassador said: “North Korea is like a religious cult. They are brainwashed to cry around their leaders.”
Every time he spoke of the North, there was always deep-rooted emotion in his voice; despair, disappointment, sometimes a tinge of hope - hope for a possible reunification with his kin across the border.
The Koreans are the same people. They speak the same language, worship the same gods (or at least they used to) and practiced the same culture until politics split them. Now, no two countries could be more different. Communist North, socialist South. Prosperous South, impoverished North.
Beyond politics, however, there is a personal hurt, a deep one that runs through several generations. Since the war that ended in 1953, the new border, one of the most militarised zones in the world, has not only divided a country, but split families, lovers and friends.
“My mother has not seen her mother and sisters since the war because they are trapped in the North,” the ambassador said.
Such stories of separated families are all too common among Koreans. Later in the hallways, as we headed to the ambassador’s residence, the Deputy Head of Mission, Uhm Taeho, would recount the story of his ninety-something-year-old father whose relatives are all in the North.
“He is old now and we don’t know if he will ever get the chance to see his relatives again,” he said.
But while still in the briefing hall, another slide came up. Two old people overcome by emotion, crying and holding on to each other. They are relatives separated by the war and the border, reunited by a complex family reunion arrangement between the two countries that allow the relatives on different sides of the border to meet under close watch.
“When we give them food, they agree to allow the programme hold,” the ambassador said of the incentives they have offered the North to allow such meetings to happen.
He inclined his head and looked at the photo of the freckled, chubby, old man and the wrinkly, wiry old woman. “Which one from the North, which one from the South?” he asked.
The wild laughter that followed did not in any way dampen the tragedy that that photo represents. And with North Korea declaring within the week that it was facing possibly the worst drought in its history, the chances of that old woman, and millions like her, gaining a few more pounds look even slimmer.
Korea has had complex relations with some of its neighbours. Before 1950, the biggest villains in the eyes of the Koreans were the Japanese. They had invaded the country and destroyed many parts of the South, including its historical palaces. The occupation that lasted between 1910 and 1945, left a legacy not just of ruined historical buildings, damaged national pride and a nasty history of colonisation. It left a lingering scar that has refused to heal, even with the passage of time.
Now the relationship between the two countries can only be compared to that between Germany and Poland, fraught with deep-rooted resentment, guilt and hate. Something that would take more than a few senior diplomats discussing around a table to resolve.
How did Korea recover from the legacy of a brutal colonisation and a devastating civil war?
“We don’t have a lot of resources,” the ambassador said, “but we have a lot of people.”
Fifty Million people won’t seem like a lot to Nigerians who already have more than three times that population and all the resources the Koreans can only dream of, but for the Koreans it is enough resources to turn their economy around.
Today, Korea is a global hub in manufacturing and ICT as well as the global model for e-governance, a model they are all too happy to share with Nigeria, as the ambassador said.
It has been 35 years now since Nigeria and Korea forged diplomatic ties, with trade volumes between the two countries hitting over $300 billion.
Over lunch, at the ambassador’s residence, starting with a sumptuous, delightful looking pumpkin soup that glowed like liquid gold in a bowl and tasted just as rich, discussions ranged from the similarities between the African and the Asian countries on issues touching on culture, economy and social norms, even the LGBT debate turned up.
In admiration of the Koreans well-preserved cultural heritage and its unified people, a Nigerian journalist decried the lack of unity among Nigerians.
“If we have a common culture like the Koreans, we would have achieved more. But now we are fighting over which tribe should occupy which office and whatnots,” he said.
There were murmurs of approval around the table. Until another journalist said: “With all our ethnic and regional differences, what we Nigerians have managed to do is to club each other to death occasionally. The Koreans, North and South, are the same people, the same family, and have the same belief, but today, because of political differences, there is a chance that one Korea could nuke the other.”
Over a sumptuous serving of Bibimpap, a Korean cuisine of rice and vegetables and a side dish of fish fingerlings, what some Nigerians would call Ido dubu a miya or ‘a thousand eyes in the soup,’ what became clear was that if the example of Korea and Somalia are considered, a uniform culture and tribe is no guarantee for peaceful coexistence between people, neither is the possession of national resources and a massive population any guarantee of growth as the Nigerian example demonstrates.
What Nigeria can certainly learn from Korea though that no matter the obstacles, any country can rise to the pinnacle with some hard work and commitment. And taking pride in its culture.
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