Road Notes

By Mathew Raji Andah

I looked, like I have done every other time, forward to this day. It took me days to pack my baggage and when it finally dawned, I was cautiously elated. Going to go home. I am sure there are those who would argue that going home, to Obodo Nigeria, is very risky. Well, risky or not I am prepared, did the vaccinations and armed with my malaria prophylaxe. The last time I visited was in 2009.

A Camerounian friend offered to drive me for the one hour journey to the airport in Hamburg. He arrived, with his slick stilo promptly and met me waiting in the driveway. After getting my luggage in the boot of the car we drove off on the A1, Germany's longest Autobahn. We got to the airport well ahead of time. I will be flying the KLM Cityhopper, the royal Dutch airline and, as is customary, the Cityhopper brings passengers to the airbus waiting at the Schiphol, one of Europe's busiest airports. At Fuhlsbuettel, the Hamburg airport, passengers can check themselves in via the Self-Check in Maschines or they allow themselves to be checked in at the counter. I preferred the former and Jean-Claude joked that very soon employees at the counter would would loose their jobs. The check in proceeded fairly quickly, only minor issues with my overweight luggage. Having checked in my luggages I came back to thank Jean-Claude and his wife. We hugged and I made my way to boarding the plane for the roughly an hour flight to Amsterdam where, I had about 3 hours to wait before the onward flight to Lagos. After locating the gate for this flight, I wandered about in Schiphol, window shopping in the well stocked duty freeshops.

In the meantime, people began milling around the gate for flight 587 preparatory to boarding. The plane was really an airbus, roomy, seating nine passengers in a row and there must have been more than 12 rows in the economy class. There were passengers from the Netherlands and others reconnecting on this flight. The economy class where, I sat, was populated by pedominantly Africans, Nigerians in the diaspora. Near to me was a guy from Egbe, Kogi state, who is travelling from Detroit. I had met him at Schiphol. We talked about the underwear bomber, Umar Farouk Abdulmutallab who targetted Detroit and the tightened security at the airports. Feeling tired from lack of sufficient sleep, I excused myself and reclined my seat to get some sleep.

I was woken up by a flight attendant who wanted to know whether I needed to fill out a flyer from the Nigeria Immigration. I looked at the flight tracker and discovered that we were in Nigeria airspace. I peeped through the window and saw clouds below. I imagined how it would be like at the MMIA and Lagos and concluded that except the campaign fever, it would not be very much different than 2009. This time though, somebody very dear to my heart is awaiting my arrival. Then there was an announcement that the plane would be touching down in about 30 minutes. The time and temperature in Lagos was also read and passengers were advised to fasten seat belts. Very soon the Cityscape of Lagos came into view and gradually one can make out the outline of the International airport in Lagos. And finally the touch down.

Coming through the tube and on to the immigration desk, you are hit by a bundle of tropical heat. Some of the coolers at strategic intersections do not work and suddenly the realization, this is Nigeria where, things work under another rule or no rule at all. At the immigration desk, it seems we spend more time than the entire duration of the flight, there was no automation, things were manually done. On the walls hung the election posters of PDP candidate for the presidency with the words "Goodluck Nigeria". The immigration officials at the desk where I went, behaved impeccably.

Eventually I came to the baggage collection point and another waiting till the conveyor belt began rolling around the bags. I got a trolley and picked up my bags. On my way to the exit, a technician approached to ask if I needed to make a call from his mobile phone. I called Mary to inform her that I am heading towards the exit and to enquire where she was. Security officials cordoned off an area in front of the airport with metal railings behind which stood crowds waiting for the arrivees. It was around dusk. I had seen the photos and videos of Mary before. It was exciting to see her now in person and there she stood with an in-law, smiling. We hugged and exchanged greetings. She wanted to know how my flight was. They had arranged for a cab to drive us to a hotel at another area of Ikeja.

You cannot help but marvel at the increasing level of sanity on Lagos roads. Motorists and bikers still honk their hones indescriminately but they, especially motorists, now drive on their lanes and at the few intersections where the traffic lights are functional, road users no longer cut corners. To their credit the Lagos State Government is improving facilities for pedestrians long neglected in the scheme of things. There are now pavements, signs showing names of Lagos streets, sheds for bus stops where commercial bus drivers now stop to pick up or drop passengers. Refuse trucks are a part of the vehicular traffic and the notorious hawkers on Lagos roads no longer disturb the flow of traffic. However, pollution is still a major problem. The huming of the "gens" and the smoke therefrom is inescapable. So also is honking the horns and people shouting at the top of their voices in other to be heard. It was difficult to discern which rule of the thumb road users in Lagos and by extension Nigeria follow. In most European countries the rule of the thumb is right before left on non priority roads, there are ample information to help through the driving and road signs are not allowed to be obscured by billboards. In Lagos road signs are in some cases non existent or being covered up by a giant billboard. The horns appear to be the most significant part of a vehicule as opposed to the breaks. Chaos theorists have long maintained that there is order in seemingly chaotic situations, perhaps that is why there are not many accidents on Lagos roads.

A couple of days after my arrival, having delievered the message from a friend, seen Victor, the clearing agent and resolved one or two issues in Lagos, time to hit the village. The Mangoro Park is where people go to catch a bus going to Okene. We arrived there early enough to secure the seats near to the driver in the front. And the bus, a Toyota Hiace, was in a relatively good condition. All its occupants were Anebira, the biggest gathering of the tribe I had seen in two years. Very soon we were on our way home. On the Lagos - Ibadan motorway there are construction sites on both sides of the road. Its like the Church ministries are in competition to build the biggest Church and there are giant signboards to proclaim this or that ministry. I like looking at the dense tropical vegetation in its luxuriant green which is a remarkable departure from the gray winter I had left behind in Hamburg and Amsterdam. Inside the Toyota Hiace, passengers traded stories and jokes. In the 500km distance, apart from interruptions at the ubiquitous police check points, there were two stops: once to eat or drink at Ilesha and the other at the NNPC filling station in Akure. Before long, we were in Ibilllo, Lampese and then the nameless stream, a natural boundary between Edo and Kogi State. A wooden sign welcomes passengers to the Confluence State.

Driving through Magongo, the wooded savannah, topography, red earth and the ancient hills were all too familiar. Suddenly we were entering Ageva, saw the dilapidated roofs of the Lennon Memorial College, a premier institution in the state and wondered what the fate of other colleges might be. At the crossing to Ogori, people were gathered in solemn mood by the road. It was a fatal accident involving a motorbike and an automobile. That was the only accident in the entire duration of the journey. One had hardly recovered from the sight of a ghastly and fatal road accident and was met by the sight of destruction. I expressed shock at the devastation and destruction at Obehira which reminds one of parts of Kabul and war torn Iraq. I was informed that what I saw along the road from Otutudakene, Ohugeri, Idichairman down to Ohumanaka area, horrific as they are, were a tip of the iceberg. I shudder, wondering what the interior might then look like. It is now the stories I have heard about violent attacks resulting in deaths, injuries, destuction and internal displacement between Obehira and Okengwe communities started forming in my head. We were at the end phase of our journey, at the home front, and here, the horrors. At Oro, I saw the destroyed and abandoned house of Mr Ahmed Ogembe, once a hero, overgrowing with weeds.

The refrain I continue hearing is how quite things have become at home. It was an election season, campaigns were on a full swing and yet the remarkable tranquility. Now and then people expressed reservation. Would the new times, the quiteness last? The nomination of Mr Nurudeen Abatemi-Usman is being challenged at the elections tribunal by Ahmed Ogembe, a fellow PDP man. The case was resolved at the tribunal in favour of the former as the senatorial candidate for the party in the central senatorial destrict. It seems people are tired of fighting each other. The politicians showing maturity and the electorates more astute. I was invited to a PDP rally holding at the Onikiri Compound in Okengwe on the 15th March 2011. It went off very peacefully.

Okene, busy as ever, can hold its own against any comparable town in the whole country. It will soon have to come up with better ways of managing the increasing flow of traffic in the south-west along Company and Lafia. It was here that I met Kabir Ismail, propietor of Ebiraview Media and Technology Services and our eye and ear on the ground. I spotted him, shouted his name atop Igoyi. He came and we met on the Water Works Road in Okene. He gave me a copy of his widely read paper, The Ebiraview.

The highlight of this visit was supposed be the Ebe performance of 2011. I needed to be back in Lagos for an assignment which I had hoped would last for a couple of days. I left on Monday hoping to be back on Thursday or Friday in time for Ebe slated for the 26th and 27th of March. The computer system at the Tincan Island port broke down and could not be fixed untill a week later. That robbed me the chance to see Arijewnu Obanyi for the first time in more than a decade. I had contracted the dubbing of Ebe 2011 to Isah Records before heading to Lagos. I called to make sure the materials are ready and on coming back home went straight to the Studio to pick them up. I now have a vehicle, MB 108 D which I had gone to Apapa to collect, at my disposal and I can now cruise around. I went to a popular spot at Iruvochinomi where one can eat bush meat and another at Ohuepe where, in addition, you can sip undiluted palmwine. One day, on my way to Lokoja, I saw a decomposing human remains when I complained about how this could be allowed to be the case, a fellow traveller said its the fault of others dumping their crazy ones on Ebiraland. I looked at him and said nothing.

I enjoyed my time at home. Saw my relatives, friends and well wishers but I needed to get back to Lagos. I left home on the day of my flight, 7th April 2011 and 24 hours later I am back to base and it was in the middle of spring. Looking forward to the next visit which is not far off.