“If you’re black, being in Singapore is a blessing,” Theresa Mindi Saguda tells me over a meal of Swahili fish curry (mine) and Moroccan lemon chicken tagine (hers). “I feel like we encourage a culture of tolerance and acceptance here. People aren’t fazed by different races as much.”

I choke in incredulity. Or maybe it is the sour-spicy hit of the habanero and tamarind that just hit the back of my throat.

Unperturbed, Mindi, whose family comes from Tanzania, goes on, “Anywhere else would be tough. I’ve had family who have experienced racism even in other African countries.”

Surprisingly—to my cynical heart, at least—this sentiment is not unique to Mindi. Over the past few months, I’ve been hanging out with various Singaporeans and Permanent Residents of African descent to find out more about this community.

Talking to them, I learnt that, despite the microaggressions and stereotyping they face occasionally, all of them appreciate the inclusive racial policies in Singapore that we often take for granted. Furthermore, even though only one out of four have attained citizenship (two of them are still in the process of applying for it), all of them consider themselves Singaporeans, so I will respect the terms they use to describe themselves.

A caveat: I’ll be the first to admit my ignorance. Prior to writing this story, I didn’t even know there was a community of Africans who have sunk their roots into this tiny equatorial island, so far from the continental landmass that is Africa.

Any knowledge I had of black Singaporeans was limited to what I had learnt from watching Ayer Hitam: A Black History of Singapore, a 2019 play, and the occasional viral posts on social media, such as this Tweet imploring us not to throw the “N-word” around, or Alvin Philemon’s TikTok videos documenting his crazy versatile accents and Tweets documenting his crazy versatile parents.

These social media posts offer us voyeurs living in our bubbles (one we ought to burst) a glimpse of what life is like for this community. Beyond the 30 seconds of a TikTok video or 280 characters in a Tweet, however, there is so much more to them that I—like many other Singaporeans—remain blind to and even insensitive towards.

What’s it like for black Africans to live in Singapore? Why did their family choose to emigrate here? How do they stay connected with their cultural roots? What are some things we always get wrong about their heritage and culture?

Most importantly, do they like durian?