And yet, there they were -- three guys manning a stall -- in Jurong East, of all places. Jurong East is one of the further suburbs of Singapore, populated by the typical Chinese-, Malay- or Singlish-speaking local with little curiosity about the outside world.

Hezron Nyabola's stall stood out instantly for its novelty, selling African art and craft. On their right was a more commonplace stall offering gaudy costume jewelry while on their left was a hole-in-the-wall buying and selling second-hand mobile phones. Costume jewelry works for the Jurong East 'heartlander' females. Mobile phones definitely appeal to the Jurong East 'heartlander' males. But African art?

Out of curiosity if nothing else, I said hello to the African trio.

Destiny, Malik and Hezron at their stall. There's even a handwritten sign in Chinese, on the left, saying "Luotuo gu" (camel bone) $5.

 
"Where are you guys from?" I asked.

"Kenya," Hezron said, and I thought that was really interesting. All the Africans that I had met in Singapore had, as far as I could recall, been from Nigeria.

"And these things are made in Kenya?"

"Yes, handmade in Kenya."

I see giraffes, masai warriors, elephants, and lots of bracelets and chokers made from camel bone.

"In Jurong East, do these things sell?" I asked.

"Yes, they do," Hezron said, and indeed on both days when I stopped to speak with them, they had a steady stream of curious buyers.

There was a 30-ish woman, who bargained hard over a bone pendant, but Malik gave nothing away. After buying the pendant, she browsed around some more and saw a bracelet she liked. She bargained again, always giving a grumpy look and casting unfair aspersions on the products. Malik gave her a small discount for buying a second piece.

Five minutes later, two 19- or 20-year-old boys stopped to look at the chokers. Within seconds, one of them picked up one he liked. "How much?" he asked.

"Five dollars," Destiny replied.

The boy paid and the pair went away happy, transaction completed in 30 seconds and 4 spoken words, confirming what I've long suspected: selling to males is easier than selling to females.

From these two instances, one notices that it's the accessories that sell best.

"But in Great World City," Hezron told me, "people liked the masai and the giraffes a lot. Also, the shields and spears."

Some months back, they had a stall in that downtown shopping centre. That's a more middle and upper middle class area, which may explain why shoppers were more inclined towards the higher-priced items, perhaps to decorate their fancy homes. There too, there is a tendency of shoppers to ask whether the items are authentic and traditional, whereas in Jurong East, people buy something because they like how it looks.

In Montreal, where Hezron has a shop -- we'll come to why Montreal, Canada, later -- the interest is mainly directed towards authenticity. Wood antiques from Senegal, the Niger and the Congo, for example, are much appreciated.

Hezron first came to Singapore in November 2005. He was actually on his way to Australia where he hoped to explore possibilities for his products. From Kenya, he changed planes in Qatar, stopping over in Singapore en route. Hezron had a contact he had made over the internet and somehow, that led to his setting up a booth at a fair in Suntec City. That experience led him to the realisation that Singaporeans too were quite interested in his wares.

Since then, he's come by again 7 or 8 times, setting up his stall here and there. One day, someone from the Singapore zoo happened to walk by, and that chance incident eventually led to his big coup -– a deal with the zoo in July 2006, to supply its gift shop.

"I never got to Australia," he said, laughing at how fate has turned out.

* * * * *

 
I noticed on Hezron's name card the phrase "For a good cause". What does that signify? I asked.

"40% of the profits go to help refugees," he explained. Southern Sudan, which borders Kenya, has seen conflict for over a generation as the mostly Christian Bantu southerners resist rule by the Muslim Arab northerners. Some southern Sudanese have fled to Kenya as refugees.

Said Hezron: "From the funds we raise, we help to build shelters and provide some food and clothing."

The local church in Bondo, Hezron's home town located in the northwest corner of Kenya close to Sudan and Uganda, organizes the villagers to make these wood and camel-bone artefacts; Hezron's role is to market them around the world.

Not that Bondo itself is free from problems. According to websites that I have seen, the HIV prevalence rate in the area, 300 km from the capital Nairobi, is alarmingly high; in some nearby villages, a quarter of adults are HIV-positive. Many grandparents find themselves having to raise 5 to 10 grandchildren because the parents have died. Farmlands are lying fallow for lack of able-bodied adults, and food insufficiency is a real risk.

It's a far cry from what we take for granted in Singapore.

* * * * *

 
But what was Hezron doing in Montreal previously, where even now, he has a shop, managed by his younger brother?

"I went to Saskatoon in Canada to study," Hezron explained. "My father sold 50 cows to pay for that."

"But after I graduated, I just couldn't get a job. The racism was unbelievable. Refugees from White countries were treated well, but people from Africa were treated like garbage."

With some agitation, he recalled that he was "forced to be a dishwasher." A friend of his who had graduated as a doctor couldn't find any work except as a pump attendant at a gas station.

"Go to www.notcanada.com," he told me, "and you'll find lots more stories."

Out of desperation, he imported some Kenyan artefacts, setting up a small booth to sell them. In 2003, he had his big break. After much perseverance, he organised a major fair bringing in art pieces from many African countries, with the support of nearly all the African embassies in Canada. Trade ministers from a number of African countries came to the event as did the Deputy Prime Minister of Canada. It generated much publicity and brought him many new contacts.

But the market for such ethnic goods must be small, as Hezron seems to be spending more time traveling than in Canada nowadays.

"The climate is terrible," he explained. "It gets to 20 degrees below zero in winter."

"And the racism," he reminded me.

"But what about Singapore?" I asked. "Have you encountered it here?"

At first he tried to be polite, but I then told him I knew my country and I wouldn't believe him if he said there was no racism here. With that, he opened up: "Taxis drive right by, but will stop down the road for the angmoh [2] and the Singaporean. Shopkeepers ignore me, while others overcharge, even for a cup of tea. Just the other day, a shop quoted me a crazy price for a phone card."

Having visited Singapore so many times, he knew the correct price, so he didn't fall for it. But it was an inconvenience, as "I had to ask a Singaporean friend to buy it instead."

* * * * *

 
The less negative side of racism is when a different people and culture are exoticised. While such attitudes may be less directly hurtful, they still entrench a feeling that the other people are alien. Exotic stereotypes can be just as exclusionary as racist ones, and can serve as equally powerful put-downs.

"By going around selling exotic goods, aren't you helping to exoticise Africans?" I asked Hezron.

"My time is limited and I can't show people all that Africa has, so I focus on art and tradition."

Ultimately, as he had said to me earlier, "I have to make a living. I have to find bread and butter."

© Yawning Bread