I Leave for Lagos Nigeria – PART 2
(Read Part 1 Here. It cover information about Nigeria & interesting Wedding Rituals)
Taxi Arrives..
Peeping through my window, I was anxiously waiting for the taxi to take me to airport. i was due to fly to Lagos. It arrived just 5 mins late. Driver was a Pakistani as expected. All seated comfortably, and taxi turns to a small road. Please take the motorway, I requested. Small roads take longer than motorway. He turned to motorway hesitantly. Are you from India? Pakistan I replied. Ooh, City? Village? I answered. Achaaa, me too, he responded excitedly. Gentleman then started telling his story beginning from when he came to UK as a child some 40 odd years ago, his family, friends, land back home… soon he had left the motorway and was running fast down the memory lane. This nostalgia is a disease found commonly in everyone who was born & bred in one country & then migrated to another. Person physically lives in one country but is emotionally attached to another.
Taxi Driver Leaves Motorway and Takes Memory Lane:
More the driver was running down the memory lane, slower he was becoming on the road. Motorway speed limit is 70 miles but I swear he rarely touched 40. It took us quite long to cover just one junction. Here he declared that we must take small road as motorway could become busy unexpectedly; no traffic was visible to me at the time though. Anyway we (more precisely he) took the small road. His adventures on the memory lane accelerated even higher. We stopped on one junction & he literally forgot to drive on. The car behind horned, waking him up. “Oh sorry, I forgot to drive brother, I hope you won’t mind”. Oh no, it is only a flight, I will take the next one I exclaimed. With good luck I made to the flight!
Strange Cloudy Fog – Hamatan:
It was an overnight flight. We reached Lagos just before sunrise. It was a bit foggy and dark when we landed on the Lagos airport. Just before touching the runway, plane passed through strange clouds. I have never seen such a cloud like fog so low near the ground. I think it was hamatan, a phenomenon that happens in West Africa in which fine Saharan sand mixes with moisture to create this strange rust colour fog. It happens between December & February, and brings visibility to a minimum.
The Light Goes:
The plane taxied off the runway for a while and then stopped abruptly. Passengers started leaving seats. Suddenly captain speaks; “Passengers please remain seated, we have not reached our gate yet. Actually the taxiway lights have gone unexpectedly therefore we cannot move any further till the lights turn back on.” I looked out of the window. The airport building had gone dark. Welcome to Nigeria. Power load shedding is a common place in Nigeria. Minutes later lights came back on. Soon we were in arrival lounge. Lagos airport is a small & old one, neither too busy nor too gloomy.
Airport Security Escort:
I was strictly advised not to leave the airport building at any cost due to security concerns. There was a special security team arranged to receive me at airport & take me to hotel. A representative was supposed to meet & greet me in the luggage hall. I was eagerly looking for someone with my name card but none there. Little concerned, I called the given number, no response. Something not right, suddenly kidnap stories started creeping into my mind. Tiny drops of sweat on my forehead, it was warm weather or?? I left the luggage hall anxiously looking at each face in the crowd, walked to the counter in departure hall where I was asked to go in case of no contact.
The receptionist informed me that the person had gone to collect me at arrivals. Soon he arrived with a big smile on face. He was there with my name card; perhaps my anxiety prohibited me registering him. Sam briefed me about my escort arrangements as well as advised me what to do / not to do on route. Don’t open window, don’t buy anything on the way. In case of emergency stay in the car, etc etc. There was a 4-wheel drive was waiting to carry me and an armed police escort to follow with red & blue flashing lights. Soon we were cruising through Lagos roads. We went through the city, passed the connecting bridges arriving at Islands passing through connecting bridges. Nothing really happened – it was business as usual, except there were a lot of cars on the roads.
Stay in Hotel Royal Palace was a nice experience. I was offered a chair as I reached reception. The receptionist was also sitting on the other side. This was much better than standing in front of a high reception desk after a long tiring journey.
Loud Laughs, Warm Shakes:
Nigerians are very friendly people. They believe in “talk loud & laugh loud”. Nigerians (excludes younger generation) speak good “old” English, as spoken in 60s. British left them in 1960 and this is where Nigerian English is frozen. Emails would start with “Good Day Sir”. Our office in Lagos is small one, within a day everybody knew my name. I was greeted with a warm handshake in the morning. Some people would hold hands, followed by finger hold – an exciting & welcoming handshake.
Wed Next Day:
We were passing near a government building on Thursday morning. I saw few people gathered in a ceremonial dress, then there was another group & another… My Nigerian colleague explained that this is the marriages registry office & these people have gathered here to get married. Marriages are registered every Thursday. This is how the name of previous day is formed i.e. Wed-next-day = Wednesday. Apparently he was serious, and so were the baraati (marriage attendees).
This is not the head of Chee-Kuma tribe. Poor person is only a door man, wearing traditional African tribal dress. Why is that a door man is always dressed in traditional dress in countries ruled by Britain, e.g. India, Pakistan, Nigeria etc?? And seniors like managers wear suit & tie. Can anyone explain why a poor person standing on the street in the sun has to wear what our forefathers wore as symbol of honour & dignity?? It was done deliberately to humiliate our traditional dresses & local culture to put us in inferiority complex. We should work to reverse this.
OK, rest in next part (READ PART 3 HERE), where you will meet the bravest traffic warden..