“Why Does Eye Contact Make You Uncomfortable?”

By Twaambo Kapilikisha.

“Why is it hard for you to look me in the eye when we talk?”

“Why is it that a lot of Zambians don’t look me in the eye when addressing me?”

A German friend asked me this as we chomped on a second plate of chips in a chicken and chips restaurant in the bustling town of Monze.

I laughed it off.

“Nobody wants to look a foreigner in the eye, especially in this small town,” I replied. “In fact, not in my Zambian culture! It’s a sure sign of disrespect. It would be considered rude and almost … an attack against the person.”

My reply was lofty and high-minded.

“Do you realise that you do the same thing?” 

She swirled a huge soft chip in some ketchup. 

I rolled my eyes. I had no time for this cheap ‘psychology talk.’ We were here on a mission doing PhD research and I had no time for chat about personal feelings. We quickly finished our meal and headed out into the heat. 

As things would have it, this conversation stayed with me for weeks after because it made me uncomfortable. I thought, “How dare she question our culture and insist on disrespect from my people? This is part of who we are and there is no need for her to come over here with her ‘German ways’ and try to get people to act in the way she wants.”

But then I started to think back to all the times I’d been asked not to make direct eye contact with people. Scenes from my childhood and teenage years came up – yes, I made eye contact in defiance! I thought back to my time as a high school prefect where I insisted that the girls dare not look me in the eye. Where had I learnt this and why did I continue with this sort of behaviour?

I thought about our cultural practices — the pre-wedding kitchen party, for example, where the girl getting married must keep her eyes on the ground as the older women gyrate around her and instruct her on how to ensure a happy marriage. Can she later look her husband in the eye?

***

The more I thought about it, making direct eye contact in Zambian culture was associated with speaking up, being defiant, and asserting oneself. But could I assert myself without looking at the other person in the eye? Would I, in a situation where I was the junior person, look someone in authority in the eye?

Then I flipped it to look at the positives.

Not looking someone in the eye means you respect them. Out of respect I would lower my gaze or look at my hands when addressing my grandmother. (Though I do remember having to make eye contact to prove my innocence when chocolate had mysteriously gone missing!)

But what are the nuances?

Am I uncomfortable looking a man in the eye? Have I misinterpreted a man looking me in the eye as romantic interest?

Eye contact differs in various cultures around the world. It doesn’t depend on how ‘developed’ a nation is. In Japan, for example, eye contact is not recommended. It’s considered aggressive and challenging, just like in Zambia.

But what difficulties do we experience if we don’t make eye contact?

Are we able to truly tell someone’s feelings without looking directly at them? And when we do meet someone that looks us in the eye, do we put our guard up because we think they’re going to pounce? And why are Zambians comfortable telling someone they have gained weight but get offended when someone looks them in the eye?

As I asked myself these questions, I realised that I’d never really probed why I do things the way I do. Why was it okay to accept my behaviour as just the way I am? “Efyo naba!” What are some of the things we accept as ‘Zambian’ but never ask why we do them?

Why is it hard for us to speak up even in situations where we are being taken for granted? Why do we glory in the “Zambians are friendly to a fault” narrative? Why are we okay with engaging in corruption and what would happen if we did things differently? Why do we believe that someone who is doing well financially is a satanist or has “a blesser”? We even answer these questions with answers we have heard time and time again from other people, but may never ask ourselves, “What do I really think about this?” without fear of giving an answer that is not deemed acceptable to other Zambians.

If we do not understand why we do what we do, we cannot make any improvements. We remain stuck with a narrative that is potentially flawed and we cannot innovate as a result.

And why aren’t more Zambian children encouraged into the creative arts?

How can we better hold our leaders accountable?

Why are some Zambian fathers so uninvolved in their children’s everyday lives?

Why does it make me uncomfortable when someone looks me in the eye?

The conversation I had with my friend in Monze that day was about cultural awareness. She was trying to understand something about another culture, but I lacked the self-awareness to see it as such and could not engage appropriately.

I’ve learnt that there are a lot of things we do as Zambians that we’re oblivious to. It can be an uncomfortable thing to look oneself in the eye and make the necessary adjustments. That uncomfortable feeling is what we must deal with if we are to make improvements as a people in all aspects of our lives, our relationships, and our country. 

For more perspectives from Twaambo visit her website, Truly Twaambo, and listen to her podcast, Tea time with Twaambo :-)



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