Our dignity and heritage are at stake if we believe them

I am not an addicted reader, not because I don’t like reading, but because I seldom have free access to books that interest me; books that contain stories of my origin, my history and my heritage. Perhaps because I am from Africa, where most of the books that are sold in local bookstores tell foreign stories and the few that contain my historical stories are mostly written by foreigners that know less or nothing about them. It is not as if I was lazy or I couldn't understand the literal composition of those books, but I chose not to read them because I am aware of the consequential gravity of subscribing to stories of me written by other people. I should be cleverly doubtful of those stories, because it seems too abnormal to me, why an outsider could be telling an inside story to an insider, it is never logical. Because if such stories are not manipulated, contorted, and twisted to the writer’s self-interest, it would practically be the presentation of an image seen through an opaque glass or I should say the portrayal of illusory. Anecdotally, I believe there are motives behind such illusive storytelling; part of their motives I can sense, is that they have inherently enjoy misrepresenting and stereotyping Africa for most of the flaws that were actually spawned by them or their ancestors. 
Chimamanda; a prowess novelist from Nigeria said in one of her eloquent and never-boring presentations that the detriment of our grossly twisted stories is not only limited to the consequence of stereotype and imperialism, the loss of dignity, heritage and historical legacy but it is more detrimentally harmful when those twisted stories are inherited by successive posterity. She might be right or wrong, or there might be some analogical fallacy in the way I interpreted her voice. I've gotten some insistent reasons that convince me that our dignity is at stake just like our heritage is, especially when I remember where I grew up, where elite are those that their four years old kids can speak fluent English and not their mother tongue. This is part of what mystify me if the shameless sagging our girls roam with is actually an African thing or as if the popular doggy bling-bling jewelry in the necks of our youths is really an African male fashion. I am not also sure of how we should combat the cultural inferiority constantly battling with the African originality in our entire social and societal atmosphere. The kind of inferiority and unoriginality that made Akin; my Facebook friend wrote his name as (Her-kin), purposefully to get international friends. If it is not inferiority, maybe Her-kin (Akin) is just subscribing to the over-colorized globalization and westernization. As if any of the duo can beneficially reduce the price of bread in his local market; that is if they are not actually the cause of the hike. Maybe it’s futile to complain about cultural imperialism at this moment when the unitary aim of the entire world is to globalize. Because I can remember how I disappointed a black friend of mine that annoyed me for cheerfully greeting with “Whats up Nigger?”, “You are not in vogue” so, he responded. To him, Nigger is of course not offensive, because that is what they call black people in American movies, and the more effects those Hollywood characters have on your socialization is what determine your modernization. Maybe our gullibility to their stories of us is truly part of our culture, because people in Japan, Thailand, China and Malaysia do watch Hollywood too and they still value their cultures more than their surnames.