HanaHuaWa


HanaHuaWa explores dual identities and the tension between cultural heritage and present surroundings. Each curated article reflects the experience of balancing different worlds—whether it's being split between two cultures, places, or identities. 

From navigating immigrant life, racial or cultural differences, to appreciating the richness of both worlds, these stories emphasize the importance of community, identity, and belonging while embracing the complexities of living between two or more realities.

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The Ties That Bind Us

Issue 02 Article 02


The Ties That Bind Us
Aminu Haruna
Growing up as a Nigerian-American, I’ve always understood the deep importance of community. In Nigeria, kowa ya san kowa [1]. Family, friends, and even neighbors form a tightly woven network, and there’s a constant feeling of connection. Moving to America, this sense of community didn’t disappear, but it did shift. The Nigerian part of me constantly yearns for that zaman tare [2] while the American side pushes me to explore independence. Straddling both worlds has taught me how essential community is to my identity and survival.

Back in Nigeria, especially in northern Nigeria where I spent part of my childhood, community wasn’t just a group of people—it was an extension of who you were. A cikin gida [3], family wasn’t limited to just parents and siblings. Uncles, aunts, cousins, and even neighbors were all part of the larger network. Iyali [4] extended to include anyone close to you, and they were involved in all aspects of life, whether it was celebrations, challenges, or daily routines. Mutum ba zai rasa ba [5] because people share what they have. The community looks out for one another. This support system meant that, no matter what, there was always someone to lean on.

[1] everyone knows everyone
[2] togethernes
[3] at home
[4] family
[5] a person won’t go hungry

When I moved to America, I realized that this type of community isn’t as prevalent here. People are more independent, and life moves quickly. I found this shift jarring. It felt like I was missing something crucial—those spontaneous visits from relatives, the unspoken understanding that people were always there for you. I missed yarinyar gida [6] coming over to share gossip or food, and I missed the sense of collective identity we had back home. Though I’ve come to appreciate the strength of American individualism, how it encourages personal growth and self-reliance, I never forget the principle of zama tare da mutane [7]. It’s about finding a balance: pursuing personal success while also making time to support family and friends. Whether it's through my Nigerian friends who understand the challenges of balancing both cultures, or through my family who remind me of the values of gaskiya [8] and amintaccen mutunci [9], I’ve come to see that community is more than just a social group—it’s a source of strength and belonging.

When I think of my community, I also think of the younger generation of Nigerian-Americans who are growing up here. It’s important for them to understand the value of hadin kai [10] and not lose sight of our heritage, even while embracing their American identities. It’s the essence of who we are. Zaman lafiya da mutunci [11] are at the heart of our relationships, and they guide how we interact with others, even in a foreign country. Passing down the importance of community, shared experiences, and cultural pride is one way we ensure that our roots remain strong, even far away from Nigeria.

No matter where I go and encounter strange new environs, kai ba za ka iya rayuwa kai kadai ba [12]. And it’s that truth that keeps me connected, both to my Nigerian heritage and to the people around me, wherever I am.

[6] the local girls
[7] living with people
[8] honesty
[9] respect
[10] unity
[11] peace and respect
[12] you can’t live life alone


Ije Village Enwonwu, B. (1973). Ije Village. Oil on canvas. Yemisi Shyllon Museum of Art, Pan-Atlantic University, Nigeria.
Actress Cicely Tyson attends White House State Dinner Jimmy Carter Presidential Library and Museum. 
Streets of Insignificance Fagbeyiro, P. (2019). Streets of Insignificance. Created in Nigeria.
Untitled Aiwerioba, C. B. (2009). Untitled. Created in Nigeria.
Mmon Mmon Edet Ubok Ojeikere, J. D. 'O. (1974). Mmon Mmon Edet Ubok. Modern gelatin silver print.


A Word from the Founder

Hello,
My name is Tina Cho, a Senior at Phillips Academy Andover with an academic interest in language and identity. As a Korean American student whose first language is Korean, I grappled with suppressing my accented English when I first arrived. However, after embracing my unique tongue, including the unintended mixing of Korean and English while speaking, I saw that my accent and mixed-use language embody the different parts of who I am as a person. I started this magazine to showcase the unique beauty of mixed-English language and the identities they represent, so that readers and potential contributors can do the same. I hope you enjoy each of the individual works and the stories they hold, as they express small, nuanced slices of our immensely rich world.

- Tina Cho, Andover ‘25