Hello everyone, so sorry I’ve been away so long. I've been getting used to life and work in my new abode: Abuja, Nigeria. Yep, I’ve come back home!
I’ve been in two minds whether to continue this blog or not... but you know, here I am. So I guess I’m no longer a Fulani-Nigerian in the UK, but a Fulani-British-Nigerian in Nigeria (quite a mouthful)
Abuja has been fascinating. They really spent our oil money well in this city: the major roads are wide, pristine and lined with neatly-trimmed hedges and massive corporate offices along the sides. Buildings like Transcorp Hilton is ostentatiously grand and inside is just as luxurious as you’d expect from the best hotels in New York or Dubai, and the prices of staying a night can run into the tens of thousands. I saw more over-head bridges, multi-lane highways and roundabouts in one ten minute journey in Abuja than I saw in the whole time I was in Accra.
Transcorp Hilton's massive building in Abuja
An example of the impressive road structures in Abuja
The fact that the FCT (Federal Capital Territory) as Abuja is called is only 20 years old, was hand-picked to be Nigeria’s new capital instead of Lagos and planned in advance is evident. Poorer tribes were driven out of the area to make way for the shining city (although there are still poorer ghettos dotted around) and in the 20 years since its inception, the FCT has grown in population and in traffic too. The area near where I live has many buildings and roads still under construction, so that in another 20 years Abuja will be even more occupied and developed. But is that a good thing?
There are also many huge jeeps and other grand US-style motors on the road; which spells out the difference between Ghana and Nigeria: unashamed public displays of wealth. It’s not only that there’s much more money in Abuja than Accra thanks to oil and greed, but Nigerians also know how and where to spend it so that everyone can see.
An example of one of the grand houses in Maitama, an expensive area of Abuja
In the car park at a popular mall called Silverbird, I saw a group of Hausa teenage boys dressed like Hip Hop artists smoking and laughing, before walking casually to their big black monster of a vehicle (probably a Jaguar Range Rover, but I’m not a car enthusiast so I’m not sure), brand new and gleaming, before driving off.
The type of car the Hausa teenagers were driving
Apart from that, as per my style, here’s the good, the bad and the ugly I’ve noted so far about Abuja:
Bad Driving & Car Accidents
This is the worst part of Abuja for me. I see the remains of a terrible accident every other day, including a crash between a bus and a car, the remains of a burnt-out car in the middle of a roundabout, and even a Keke Napep on its side, on fire on the side of the road. And it wasn’t as if it had just caught fire, but had been burning for a while. The unfortunate passengers had been pulled out and the vehicle left to burn. The fire service in Nigeria is chronically under-funded so rarely do they come out to put out fires, and ambulances are almost non-existent so victims of car accidents (both rich and poor) rely on the kindness of strangers to ferry them to the hospital.
A Keke Napep, a popular form of transport in Abuja
It’s no wonder that everyone professes to live by the grace of God in this country, cos when you can’t depend on Government, your money or the common sense of your fellow citizen, what do you have left but God?
I also saw a phone-video of a man involved in a car accident whose body had been severed in the middle, and only his spine was holding him together. He was bloody and his intestines were everywhere yet he was still alive, and people crowded around to stare, cry and shout (Oh my God O! Heh, Jesus! La Ila Ailallahu!) and film him on their phones as he weakly reached out to one of the transport police who held his hand before he died.
The outcry against such fatal car crashes rises almost every other week because of the number of avoidable deaths (a whole family of five lost their lives recently) bad roads and even worse driving. It’s like the majority of Nigerians just get behind the wheel of a car with no prior instruction and drive as they please; there’s very little courtesy or concern or consideration displayed. A road made for two lanes will routinely see five lanes of cars squeezing through, with some impatient drivers trying to pass through on the kerb, and motorists vehemently insult each other and overtake each other recklessly. It would be hilarious if it wasn’t so manic. I’ve vowed never to drive long distances in Nigeria; I’m too gentle a driver to make it out with my sanity intact.
Traditional Clothing
I love that the variety, colour and vibrancy of the traditional dress is fully embraced in Nigeria, both at private and public level. In a country that so values foreign influence, it’s refreshing that everyone from newsreaders, politicians, workers to market women and house-girls etc dress in traditional attire, from the Kaftans, Babanrigas and Hulas on men to the Ankara dresses, fitted maxi-skirts and head-ties on women; I’m in love with the styles and designs I’ve seen.
My ‘ethnic' wardrobe is growing and I'm having fun experimenting with different ankara, lace and other materials; different tailors, designers and boutiques and various styles; fishtail, A line, one-shoulder and baby doll and even Ankara jackets, clutches and shoes. Not only are the dresses modest, flattering to the figure and a vibrant fashion statement, to me it’s an expression of national pride.
An architectural wonders: The Shiphouse, Abuja
Car Discrimination
Appearance is everything in Nigeria, and many believe that all that glitters is in fact gold. In most arenas, you are judged purely on how you look, how much you earn (or say you earn) and how well you go about flaunting it. So the bigger, newer and more expensive looking your car is, the more respect and patronage you get from everybody.
I've witnessed it first-hand: on one occasion we parked outside a public building to wait for someone in a beat-up Mazda, and the way the security personnel spoke to us and told us to “Move Joor!” was unfair, compared with the way the same men kissed the rich arses of the drivers of expensive cars. Conversely, on the occasions we passed through the security entrance leading to an estate in a Honda ‘End of Discussion’ (Great name for a car!) or our Range Rover, the way the security fawned over us saying ‘Oga’ this and ‘Madam’ that, it was hilarious, all because we drove a nicer car.
And I’ve learnt that you get turned away from many expensive areas if you're in a ‘cheap-looking’ car. It’s not fair, the price of your car should not determine the respect you receive, but it’s the way it is in the FCT.
‘Runs’
The majority of Nigerians don’t rely just on their wages to live on, but have businesses on the side from which they fund their lifestyle. The average Nigerian’s ingenuity, ‘hustle’ and ability to make a business out of anything and collect from the generosity of others is impressive.
This is very different from the UK, where your salary is King and the culture and society doesn’t allow for people to create and sustain extra-curricular money-making schemes because demands like business taxes, licenses, permits etc often limits the flow of side enterprises. But in Nigeria, you could set up a newspaper or start selling jewellery tomorrow and all you need is the funding and customers and off you go.
And you will find some without jobs making a nice living, especially young women who make a career out of their 'runs,' which is courting (and sleeping with) rich men to fund their lavish lifestyles. I’ve even heard of men who look after their families from the money raised visiting one rich uncle, friend or cousin after another.
Another beautiful Abuja building: Central Bank of Nigeria (CBN)
The Tiring Nature of Haggling
At first battering or ‘pricing’ items was fascinating and even fun, but after a while it got jarring. I got bored and angry with all the drama that goes with buying things in Nigeria: having to argue, pretend to be uninterested, use guile and tricks etc to pay for everything from a taxi to meat. I started restricting myself to supermarkets and shops where everything has a set price and you knew everyone spent the same amount on the same thing.
Respectable Men Peeing in Public
Yep: men peeing in broad daylight on the side of the road where everyone could see. And these were not drunk youths coming out of a pub late at night and peeing in the alley like it happens in the UK, but sober, well-dressed men who just need to pee. Granted there are very few public toilets around and those available are unhygienic, but it’s still appalling.
A residential estate in Abuja
The Culture of ‘Over-Greeting’
I think this might be a good thing, but because I’m not used to it, it’s awkward for me. When people meet each other in Nigeria, they greet, when they enter a room full of both people they know and don’t know, they greet everyone, and even when they pass someone on the street, they greet. And the greeting isn’t just a simple hello and goodbye either, but a long series of formal and informal exchanges that no one is in a hurry to end. The Hausas have their own (Ina kwana, lafiya; Ina gajiya, ba gajiya; yaya aiki, lafiya; sannu, toh sannu etc) and other tribes have even more elaborate greeting traditions involving prostrating full length on the ground and long, rambling questions and answers you must go through before the greeting is complete.
Coming from England where you say Hello to a stranger on the street and feel you’ve accomplished something great if they say hello back; where a smile or a nod of the head is enough of a greeting sometimes and where you don’t have to greet everyone in a room you enter or even greet someone because they are older, this culture of extended greetings is good, but a little... tiresome.
Death
Nigeria is deeply over-populated, so I often wonder whether the fact that the people I know here lose many people they know to car accidents, ill-health or violence is because nature and the universe is sub-consciously making space available. People don’t die in the UK like they do here. Or maybe the people I know in England don’t know so many people, so we don’t experience death so frequently. This is in contrast with Nigerians who – being sociable and fabulous-greeters – probably know three times the amount of people, and the more people you know, the more will die... Well, I don’t know.
‘Only in Nigeria’ Names
Old-school names that ceased to be in vogue in the UK centuries ago like Silas or Ethel, find their home in Nigeria. Shakespearean, Dickensian and Biblical-era names like Hamlet, Abraham, Claudius and Cyprian are found safe and sound here. Not only that, but Christian-inspired names like Faithfulness, Godswill, Believe, Goodheart, Favour and Miracle are widespread, as are Experience and Epiphany. I’m not kidding. In fact Experience and Epiphany where the names of politicians I saw talking on TV. I also saw men called Clever, Famous and Prosper, and a girl called Happiness. Oh, and I met a waiter called Genesis.
But one name took the biscuit; a name I thought was only ever given to one man in history, a name that is above all names. A baby boy of two who was born on Christmas Day was called Jesus. And it’s not even pronounced ‘Heysus’ like the Spanish do it, but J-E-S-U-S. When the baby was introduced to me, I didn’t know whether to laugh or be stunned. The funny thing is that no one actually called the baby by this most unique of names; people said ‘Awww, baby is so cute’ or asked ‘where’s that cute baby boy?’ and even the baby’s mother called him by a pet name I can’t remember. It’s like everyone subconsciously knew that you can’t go around calling a baby Jesus. Imagine what the kids at school will say!
Nigeria has been as fascinating, terrible, exciting, exhilarating, exasperating, annoying and hilarious as I’d imagined. And now with this fuel subsidy removal by President Goodluck Jonathan (Or Badluck as many are now calling him) which raised the price of fuel from N65 per litre to N140 causing protests, strikes and doubled prices on almost everything, tensions are high and I feel like my country is on the verge of something major.
But that’s another post for another day.
