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Chris Duncan is a South African expat living in Nigeria and his stories tell an intriguing tale. His blog captures those everyday moments that largely go unnoticed by the media.
And Duncan is once again off on a journey of discovery filled with celebratory gun shots, jail time with no food (an acquaintance of his) and a captive juvenile crocodile turned pepper soup, or so the thought goes. Never a dull moment in the life of Duncan. – Stuart Lowman
By Chris Duncan
An early morning start to the airport for a flight to Abuja to attend a meeting. Alas, the traffic was gridlocked and as we sat stationary I noticed several SUV’s with their escorts mounting what was left of a pavement to bypass the traffic. Now time was marching on and we had purposely chosen the first flight of the day as it normally leaves on time.
Needing no encouragement our driver followed suite and fitted in behind the police pick up in front of us as we sneaked our way past the early morning traffic for about five kilometres, sometimes the left wheels slipping off to avoid obstacles like pedestrians who were mainly hooted at to clear the way or piles of rubbish.
Once the wheels were off the pavement he had a tough job of forming an angle to remount due to the proximity of the vehicles alongside us.
We were on time and left on time, impressive for Arik Air. An hours flight in a de Havilland Dash and we touched down into a dry and dusty Harmattan haze.
With the meeting over for the day we gathered for a cocktail party at the poolside followed by a tasty Indian dinner whilst I caught up with my colleagues from around the country.
The following day with an afternoon return flight we were asked to check out early. An emergency had been declared aboard a BA flight to Cape Town and they were diverting to Abuja and this particular hotel, all 300 passengers. It was quite amusing to view the queues of passengers passing the hotels security scanners and the general chaos of the hotel lobby as they were all checked in.
After all, they expected to land in Cape Town and begin their vacation but now they were being warmly welcomed to the capital of Nigeria where they would spend the night until a replacement aircraft arrived.
Amazingly the return flight was on time too, just short of an hour. Unfortunately the road journey to the hotel was one from hell. Over two and a half hours it took as we started and stopped crawling our way back to the hotel. On several occasions our MOPOL escort left our vehicles and entered the jam and with weapons waved a path was cleared for us.
Not far from the hotel is a single lane flyover with massive illuminated advertising board lighting up the area all around. I got out the car to stretch my legs and looked over the edge of the flyover onto a market below with the boom of the base from music being played and the light from the signboard the scene was one of a big disco.
I could not help noticing it was an MTN advert advising people to RICA their sim cards, a bit last minute I thought considering the fine they must pay but that seems to have gone all quiet, money is probably changing hands somewhere.
When we finally reached the hotel I discovered the reason for the gridlock. Not far from here a contingent of Navy personnel had entered a one way street causing a blockage and had come across MOPOL on duty who remonstrated with them. Naturally tempers flared, weapons brandished and a member of the Navy shot. MOPOL 1 – Navy 0. That is the way things work here!
The following evening as I retired to my apartment the sound of gunfire was heard all around. Don’t worry I was told, they are celebrating as the State Governor has won his court case to remain in power, the people are happy.
Whilst we are on the subject of the MOPOL I must relate the story of a colleague who came visiting late last year from a neighbouring state. Now things are a bit more relaxed in those parts with no need for police escorts and tight security.
After breakfasting together he and his driver set off on their merry way. Unfortunately the driver drove down a one way street which is very much normal here (with a policeman in the car) and was stopped by the traffic police. They were promptly arrested and escorted to a police station far from here where a fine was to be paid before their release. I received a call from my colleague explaining their predicament and duly dispatched our MOPOL to assist.
Meanwhile all four tyres were deflated – standard procedure here to remove any thought of a quick getaway. After lengthy haggling by our MOPOL a substantially reduced fine was agreed to, money paid and they were free to go. But not as easily as that, a fellow came round the corner with a compressor and for a fee the tyres would be pumped up.
After all this it was time to depart but the police who manned the gates were not part of the deal and also needed payment. At this point one of my MOPOL jumped out the car and was about to shoot the gate open but fortunately sanity prevailed and after a lengthy delay they were on their way.
Meanwhile back at Chez Chris as my apartment is called on we continue our weekly outings to the shops with a variety of tasty meals being prepared. Again, it has mostly been Tex-Mex using up the ingredients that Doug bought with him – Tacos, Burritos, Quesadillas, Jambalaya and Corn Bread. It certainly makes the weekend interesting and passes the time with good company.
Andouille Sausage and Shrimp Jambalaya
In fact we were enjoying ourselves immensely but spared a thought for a friend who texted us that he was under arrest and had been whisked off to Abuja as a guest of the detention centre for immediate interrogation and deportation. They do not feed you in jail here, generally a relative will visit and bring you food – if you are lucky.
Bart sent us some pictures of his new accommodation and we did not envy him at all, in fact it was quite a concern but as I write this he is safely home. Something to do with a work permit he said.
Bart’s temporary accommodation
The Harmattan continues, a heavy hazy sky leaving a thick layer of dust on everything, it’s in your throat, eyes and sinuses, some days the skies are quiet without the clatter of helicopters as the visibility is too low.
Talking of helicopters my pilot friends had taken sympathy to a captive juvenile crocodile one of their local colleagues had acquired and was keeping it in a pool of water in a cage. This outraged them somewhat and a plan was hatched to set it free, but where?
The local zoo was contacted which agreed to take it on, provided that a sum of money was handed in for its welfare. I was asked to arrange transport for the poor beast as they do not have the same freedom of movement as I.
I was to collect it in a cooler box with some water and a stone and have my driver deliver it and the cash the following day to the zoo. Come the day and the hour the rescue was cancelled, the owner got wind of our project and the creature disappeared. Crocodile pepper soup no doubt.
And such is life living here in the swamp, never a dull moment. Onward we continue.
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