I’m Gonna be a Model

By Msonter Anzaa

You have probably heard someone make a statement like this before, especially if you live where people do a lot of partying, music, acting and “shows”. If you are a journalist, you are also likely to have featured a “model” on your TV or radio programme, or even on the front cover of your magazine. Who therefore, is a model, and how right are we when we do certain things just because we think in our minds that we are on our way to becoming models?

The word “model” could mean an example, a copy or version of something. It is often used in a phrase as “role model” in which case it means an example of whom someone wants to be. When we say someone is our role model, we imply that the person is an example of whom we would like to be. Often when we admire someone as our role model, we try to do things the way that person does them. We try to copy the way they talk, walk; their dress style etc. Sometimes, we even take their names. In all this, it is obvious that the individual does not determine by himself to be our role model. In fact, I have been in situations where people tried to point out others to me as those I should make my role models. I never found them appealing and therefore never accepted them as role models. Whether someone is our role model or not, is decided only by ourselves. Sometimes, people see the men on my phone’s wallpaper and ask, ‘who is this man?’ I say ‘Nelson Mandela’ or ‘Rev. Martin Luther King Jr.’ and they nod their heads with a blank face. You see, they haven’t even heard about my role models!

Commonly however, we hear our friends – especially ladies – tell us their ambition is to become models. Then the question that comes to mind is what kind of model? Philosophically, every individual on the face of the earth is a model. He is an example of something, and someone can aspire to be like him. Robbers too are models. Those who perpetrate poverty and corruption in Nigeria are also models! They are an example of a kind of life, and someone may want to be like them. A story is told of one boy who looked himself in the mirror and told his mum, “I’m growing big and soon I’d become like dad. When people tell me anything, I will not listen.” He wants to become like his dad. His dad is his role model. Most times, we do not know how many people consider us their role models. We do not need to struggle to become models. We already are! So when people make conscious effort to become models, it’s a curious thing.

What we find our friends in this category doing actually is copy someone whom they consciously or unconsciously love as a model. Most times however, especially during these shows, beauty pageants or parties, people are judged by a panel regarding their fitness for being models. Then we have a scenario among ourselves now where we bleach our skins, paint our lips and eyelashes with various colours, put on not very honorable dresses, create ridges of hair on our head, sag our trousers, put earrings and even try to camouflage our accents. We wanna be models; that’s why. I think the trouble with our society which unfortunately seems to haunt us the young ones more, is the copy-copy attitude we have towards things. We all suffer from inferiority complex. Our own is not good. That other man’s is better, so we copy it. Our language is inferior, so we try not to speak it even though we can’t even speak English well. Even our rice is not good. We use “foreign” rice even though Abakaliki rice can become “foreign” if it gets to Benin Republic! It is certainly better as long as it comes from somewhere “foreign” to us.

To become the model we want to be, we must learn to walk afresh. Models don’t walk any how. They put on high-heel shoes and swag their buttocks from one side to another. Models are all fair-skinned people. So we bleach our skin to become a model. Models move their hands in certain ways. We must learn them. Models always chew something even while talking; may be it is chewing gum. We must learn to do that as well. Models always attend parties; they must know the names of every local and foreign musician and the number of records released by each. We spend long internet hours finding out about D’banj or Tuface or Michael Jackson or Alicia Keys. Then we sit under trees in our relaxation parks and argue for hours about who is not dating the other in Nollywood or even Hollywood. We wanna be models! Just like that.