I Ain’t Reading All That; I’m Happy For U Tho, or Sorry That Happened

In November 2023, I met up with a friend of mine that I hadn’t seen in some years. A combination of busy schedules, as well as the god-awful COVID-19 pandemic that ate away a good chunk of our early college years, was the root cause of such a long separation. Admittedly, we were never the best of friends to begin with, hanging out mostly via the shared proximity that comes with attending a college with a tiny campus but, if you know anything about what Beijing has been like during the past half-decade, you’d know that a familiar face – one that’s stuck around during the tumultuous first years of the 2020s – is indeed, a rare treat.

And by that, I mean, a good chunk of the city’s foreign population decisively abandoned ship at the start of La Pandémie (understandably, considering China’s infamous Zero-COVID Policy), and never looked back. Only about 10 of us chose to valiantly keep holding on and brave the storm, confident that clearer skies would be waiting at the end of it. Maybe 15, if we include those such as myself, who literally had no other choice, and no other ship to conveniently hop onto.  

Obviously, I’m being hyperbolic in terms of numbers, but the truth remains that the number of foreigners in China has greatly declined between the years of 2020 and 2023. Based on 2020 National Census data, Beijing has experienced a 41.5 percent decline in foreign residents, from about 100,000 to a lackluster 60,000. It should be noted that more factors than just La Pandémie caused the decline – stricter visa requirements and tighter immigration policies also played a significant role.

Still, speaking as someone who stuck around in the city throughout all the ruff-and-tuff, I can absolutely say that that 41.5 percent decline has been keenly felt.

But I’m not here to write about the fading light of Beijing’s laowai scene.

But, for a lot of us with multiple tags to our person, the chance to be apolitical, or simply uncaring, simply isn’t possible. You might not be interested in politics, but politics is interested in you. And, in choosing to stay silent, or accepting the status-quo, is a sign of privilege.

So. My friend and I met up at a mutually convenient place, did the prerequisite (but no less meaningful) hug and kiss “It’s been so long!” routine, and quickly chattered through a recap of what we’d been up to in recent years. She was taking her career in photography very seriously, she said to me. That actually, for the October National Holiday, she’d taken a trip across China to build her portfolio and capture what she thought were ‘inspirational visuals.’

I listened emphatically, genuinely interested in what she had seen on her travels. I’d already known a part of what she was retelling, of course, due to my regular Instagram haunts. The liking of her social media posts while lamenting the fact that I wasn’t as talented-driven-carefree as she was. I have many such friends who evoke this behavior within me. As a self-proclaimed author and *creative*, it’s normal that I surround myself with people who share the same interests, though they’re generally a lot more accomplished. I’d also like it known that I suffer from Imposter Syndrome.

The friend I mention really is a fantastic talent, and it was after she finished telling me about what learning was like at the best university in the country, that she looked me seriously in the eye and said she really appreciated all the work I was putting into raising awareness for Palestine, and many of the other violent conflicts currently taking place on our planet.

I didn’t expect her compliment. Yes, she had been a faithful post-liker, during what I assume were her own Instagram haunts, but to have my efforts acknowledged offline was, maybe, more of a surprise than it should have been. With social media, people just like “content” for the sake of it. Sometimes the algorithm giving you content you genuinely enjoy is more often as a sense of duty toward friends and loved ones.

In fact, it wasn’t long before our meeting that I lost a close friend due to conflicting political ideals; to put it mildly, said friend considered himself “apolitical.” As someone who is “very political,” our friendship could not go on. Apolitical Friend is a cis-het American male. Make of that what you will.

But! Because of the friendship breakdown, and other, smaller disagreements surrounding global current events, I’d resigned myself to the fact that, much as I would like, most people off the internet, in real life, just didn’t have the interest or “bandwidth” (Apolitical Friend’s term, actually) to care about things happening continents away and did not affect them personally.  

To me, my sharing and reposting had been woefully insufficient. I’d wanted to go out like I’d seen others do, to loudly protest and publicly rage about the injustices taking place with a group of similarly incensed chanters. However, In Beijing, such things are verboten, and so all I could do was dutifully click the ‘post to story’ option on my phone.

I know, of course, that giving voice to the voiceless, spreading their plights, and bringing attention is crucial to any campaign. I just wish I could do more. Hearing someone in real life, an actual living-breathing human being in front of me, talk about my little posting habits, was very affirming. She herself, had been putting in her own efforts where she could, dutifully sharing and talking to others.

I left lunch feeling a great satisfaction beyond physical satiation. How lovely it was to talk with someone I could connect with on more than just a surface level. How lovely it was to talk with someone I could connect with on more than just a surface level IN REAL LIFE! And yet, it was only some days later that I was once again confronted with the reminder that hey, most people still don’t care.

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The Long and Short of It

What happened?

Nothing particularly dramatic. I was at home with a friend, knitting on a Saturday night as everyone in their early 20s does, and wanted some coffee. I love coffee, and in Beijing, in most big Chinese cities in fact, the selection of coffee shops is not lacking, so with a phone in your hand and Meituan at your fingertips, you could probably try a new coffee shop every day for a year and still not run out, while having a great cup each time. If you’re smart, you can probably guess where this is going, so let’s cut it short.

Friend wanted Starbucks, which I’ve been boycotting, and upon learning this, they adopted a visage of faux sympathy and hit me with a, “Yeah, I do feel bad about it of course, but I really love Starbies and actually they’re the only coffee chain that offers oat milk.”

(They are not the only coffee chain that offers oat milk.)

It was particularly funny hearing such words coming out of their mouth because they aren’t in fact a cis-het American male. Instead, an enby-lesbian, but still American. Another reason for my amusement stemmed from the fact that they had always been vocal about other injustices, and even, to this day, refuse to interact with anything concerned with Harry Potter and its unapologetically terf-aligned author J.K. Rowling.

It is lucky that you were born European, blonde, and blue-eyed, visibly male with a pink dick, because it is only this kind of human that is born with their human rights certifiably and lawfully promised to them. The rest of us, yes, even your kind, Karen, 32, Albuquerque, white soccer mummy of 2, interested in mimosas and hot summer nights, had to fight for those rights kicking and screaming.

This coffee incident wasn’t solitary; similar ones continue to play out to this day with other people I know. All of them regurgitate some sort of distantly sympathetic disclaimer. And make no mistake, I’m still friends with some of these people. Apolitical Friend previously mentioned was a more dramatic resolution to a disagreement. Most of the time, I just listen to whatever excuse is given with an uncomfortable demeanor and move on. Sometimes, if the other person is particularly daring, I get called performative and/or insincere.

Look, I won’t lie, boycotting Starbucks hasn’t even been that hard. I never really enjoyed their coffee in the first place, and I feel their prices do not justify their subpar offerings. Saying no to McFlurries has been the real challenge. The purpose of a boycott is to withdraw both social and financial support from an institution, usually because of an ethical issue. Particularly interesting to note is the fact that the boycott just mentioned has actually impacted Starbucks, even if only tangentially.  But, if, for some reason, you are a person who absolutely needs oat milk and can find it nowhere else, the least you can do is acknowledge the harm you’re doing.

So to pose the question that this whole article is really about; What the fuck is wrong with people? Or rather, what is it about our society that causes people to be so desensitized to events that do not directly impact them?

Someone said to me – I kid you not- “If I choose to educate myself on this topic, what will change? If my opinion changes on this issue, how will that affect my life? If it will affect my life, then I need to educate myself on it. If not, then I have no reason to concern myself with the topic.”

Needless to say that its totally understandable to find yourself overwhelmed. Everyone has their own problems; their own conflicts and battles they have to grapple with. We live in a Society, and that means a lot of our experiences are exhausting at best, and highly demoralizing at worst. We are all going through it.

But overexposure to the suffering of others has desensitized us. Every day, a tragedy is rapidly captured in 4K HD resolution, disseminated via social media, and briefly talked about for an appropriate amount of time. A person’s timeline can have both pictures of horrifying massacres in the DRC, followed by memes of Taylor Swift at the Superbowl. Technology, much as it facilitates communication, also perpetuates a loss of necessary human connection. The limited amount of in-person interactions also prevents us from regularly practicing empathy, which in turn causes us to become colder.

Another factor is, not only do we live in a Society, we also live in a capitalist society (the ‘we’ here is general, as I currently live in the People’s Republic of China – socialism with Chinese –read as capitalist –  characteristics). Hyper-individualism and the pursuit of self-interest is the basic premise of capitalism.  The role of social media cannot be understated in this equation – consumerism and materialism are both incredibly sinister and pervasive.

A constant anxiety to pursue self-achievement and personal gain lingers within us all, myself included. But in this way, community has become distant, and the well-being of others is no longer a factor we consider regularly. We love wealth, excess, and luxury. Status is everything, and sorry, but I really do want to become an influencer selling vagina goop – I’ve no time for the current apocalypse.

It’s okay, it’s not our fault we’ve become heartless, it is just the result of the System doing its job.

The Whole is Greater Than the Sum of its Parts

I’m a black African woman. I am a Queer Black African Woman Very Much Aware of the apocalypse because it’s actually inside my house.

All my identities are, in some way, constantly and specifically targeted by the world at large. Perhaps, because of this, I am able to connect easily to the plights of others. It could also be because, in contrast, I came of age under the African values community, characterized by the sharing of burdens. Capitalism is not inherent or natural to our continent. It is a Western, European concept. In Africa, it is inconceivable to shovel only the snow on your side of the steps,  actually, you’re going to shovel the snow off of everyone’s steps, in the entire neighborhood.

But to say that basic human decency is only African is insulting to cultures around the world, cultures which I know also share the ethics of love, kindness, and generosity. Also, Africa is a continent. Maybe there really is one ethnicity that won’t shovel anyone’s snow but their own. Generalization is bad, yadda-yadda.

But, for a lot of us with multiple tags to our person, the chance to be apolitical, or simply uncaring, simply isn’t possible. You might not be interested in politics, but politics is interested in you. And, in choosing to stay silent, or accepting the status quo, is a sign of privilege. It is lucky that you were born European, blonde, and blue-eyed, visibly male with a pink dick, because it is only this kind of human that is born with their human rights certifiably and lawfully promised to them. The rest of us, yes, even your kind, Karen, 32, Albuquerque, white soccer mummy of 2, interested in mimosas and hot summer nights, had to fight for those rights kicking and screaming. 

According to a TIME article I read recently, there’s also an idea that everything is tit-for-tat. You’re slogging through your days, unhappy, isolated, lonely, and no one gives a hoot about you. So why should you give anyone or anything else the time of day? Honestly, I get it.

More to this tangent, I think a lot of this self-centered behavior can also be seen in other ways. People with a higher usage of social media tend to feel more isolated than others, and with an increase of depression, and mental illness, vulnerability isn’t encouraged. In fact, any sign of it will be quickly seized upon and devoured. All this, coupled with shrinking attention spans (aesthetically pleasing political infographics, condensed TikToks sharing only the gist of the issue, maybe a video essay if you’re really interested), don’t make for a strong case for selflessness. Then there’s the slog of fake and reactionary headlines we have to dredge through to learn anything relevant. Clickbait, clickbait, clickbait!

But, it is true that Staying Aware can be exhausting. Life can be exhausting. But I have to remember that even I have privilege. I was lucky to be born in Post-Apartheid South Africa to a family that isn’t violently oppressive; lucky to get an education; and lucky that all my body parts work (mostly) as they should. There are many more ways in which I’m lucky, in ways others are not.

When I read about the gang rapes in the DRC, or whole ethnicities being eradicated in West Papua, and countless other incidents, I remember that I am lucky. I also really really hope to stay lucky for the rest of my life. Anything can change, at any time. The Democratic Alliance(DA) could win South Africa’s 2024 presidential election, and then where would be?

In the poo, that’s where.

In short, human connection and empathy are needed, not just for ourselves, but for the continued survival of the human race. And if you still can’t care about the human race, then sure, ok! We do need it for ourselves. Focus on that part. Caring is contagious, and by cultivating an environment of trust and support, we can create a more wholesome society.

Don’t wait for something to directly affect your livelihood to start caring about it. Acknowledge that, while you may be distanced by time and location, these are very real issues that other humans, people, are facing, and it would be heartless to ignore that.

Going back to Apolitical Friend; is he a bad person? No, of course not. In fact, he’s one of the best people I know. Knew. One of the few cisgender males I trusted (though not completely, never completely). And in his defense, he really was having a rough time of it around when our disagreement took place. What truly dissolved our friendship was the fact that I could not, cannot, tolerate apathy in the face of suffering. Selective compassion does not work, especially when we realize that a lot of the suffering is caused because of systemic issues, many of which also concern us in some way. No conflict is completely isolated. Geopolitics does not work that way.

I may not be able to dedicate all my time, or even a lot of time to every issue plaguing the world, but, giving them even a small spot in my heart, to keep them there and remember them, I think that’s meaningful too. Love and empathy – those are radical acts. Those are revolutionary acts.

I also don’t really like oat milk. Can’t stand it, really. 

Photos: Via Freepik

About Author

Tochanta Osuagwu a.k.a SocialNimba

Born in South Africa, and growing up around the sprawling waterfalls of Maseru, the humid waters of Les îles de Casa, and the picturesque Hesse mountains of Frankfurt, Tochanta is always zooming into her next adventure and has a passion for writing. Now based in Beijing, she has continued to refine her vision for the story over the years. With a passion for helping others, she has worked with multiple NGOs to empower other young African women through the power of education and media studies, so they could tell their own stories. When she’s not hurrying to catch the next flight, she can be found squinting over Mandarin characters and teaching her cats to talk.