A British journalist, David
Hayward, who visited Nigeria,
captures his impressions about
the country. Earlier this year, I was
approached to do some media
consultancy in Nigeria. I’d just
left the BBC after 18 years, to
set up my own business, so
this seemed a great opportunity. I spoke to a
number of friends and former
colleagues. I’d heard many
stories about Nigeria, seen the
reports on Boko Haram and had
my own impressions of sub Saharan Africa. The advice fell into two camps: a) Don’t go, you’ll get
kidnapped or catch malaria.
Either way, you’re going to die b) Nigeria is a nightmare.
When you arrive, you’ll be
swamped by hustlers trying to
rip you off, steal your luggage
and all your money. If they
don’t get you, the corrupt police officers and officials
will. I was mainly to be based in
Asaba, the capital of the Delta
State, one of, if not the
biggest, oil producing states is
Nigeria. In an attempt to be a
bit more thorough with my research than asking a few old
mates, I contacted the office of
BBC Media Action in Abuja. The fairly pragmatic response
was: “We treat the Delta State
as a hostile environment. It’s
an oil producing area and there
is a strong risk of kidnapping.
However if you have armed security, this risk will be
slightly reduced”. I took this to
be reassuring and made sure
an armed security clause was
written into my contract. I
spent some time talking to my wife Jo and children about the
prospect of going to Nigeria. *David Hayward Jo’s attitude was: “For God’s
sake, this is exactly what you
love doing. The more
dangerous a place the better
the stories. You’ll be able to
show off and bore people senseless about roadblocks,
men with guns and how brave
you are”. Buoyed by this I
accepted the work and
prepared for Asaba. I got my
visa, all the vaccinations I could fit into my arm and made
sure I had a small mountain of
malaria tablets. I really didn’t know what to
expect from Nigeria. It’s easy
to fall into preconceptions that
Africa is all about war, famine,
corruption and poachers killing
endangered animals. I caught the overnight BA
fli1around the site to cater for
a mass of cargo. About ten
minutes drive away, just
across the Niger Bridge, is the
city of Onitsha. One of the busiest markets in Africa. You
can buy almost anything there. I was to travel in and out of
the airport several times in the
next five weeks. Each time
something new was
completed. The baggage
carousel, lacking when we first flew in, was fully operational
the next time. So were the
check-in areas and the very
plush departures hall. The next morning was the first
venture out. Yinka and I
decided to go for a bit of a run.
It seemed sensible to set off
early because of the heat and
to avoid the risk of being kidnapped or shot at. So at
6am we were off. About a
minute into the jog we
approached a group of
somewhat hard looking men
with very big guns. They were guarding the gates to our
compound. This is not a sight
I’m used to on my normal runs
in rural Leicestershire, in the
UK. Anxious to appear as
inconspicuous as possible I
tried to sneak past, not
drawing too much attention to
myself, convinced I was about
to be arrested. However quite the opposite. We were greeted
with cheers of “Good morning
sir, well done, how far?”. Once I had composed myself
from the shock, very nearly
tripping over in a sweaty
heap, we continued our
circuits. Every time we passed
someone we had the same greeting. It began to feel as
though we had our own troupe
of heavily armed cheerleaders.
(Or should that be troop?) This was quite an introduction
to what, I began to realize,
was one of the most friendly
countries I have been to. This
is a genuine friendliness. It is
not a means to get to know you and rip you off. The following few weeks
continued to surprise me – and
to make me feel very
embarrassed about my initial
preconceptions. I’ve been lucky
enough to visit a whole range of places in the Delta State. The
TV and radio stations need
some work, but the staff are
young, enthusiastic and very
hard working. Warri, the oil
centre, is a thriving hub that is only going to get bigger, with
the construction of the largest
business park in West Africa.
The sign at our hotel was a bit
disconcerting. It asked
everyone carrying guns to make sure they weren’t loaded
– which was nice. The University Teaching
Hospital in Oghara is as well
equipped as any I have been to
in the UK or the rest of Europe.
There are state of the art CT
and MRI scanners, a world class renal unit and 25 paediatric
intensive care beds. The journey to the hospital
gave me the first opportunity
to see a proper Nigerian
village. This was far closer to
what I had been expecting.
The goats and cattle roaming the dusty roads, the food stalls
cooking chicken, fish and corn
over open fires. Dozens of bars
with dodgy looking satellites,
advertising the latest football
matches live. When we slowed down, or stopped the car we
were surrounded by two
groups. The children pointing
at me were shouting Oyibo,
Oyibo (white man) and
teenagers trying to sell anything from palm wine to
cola nuts, to the latest mobile
phones. Now I can’t be sure, but I don’t
think the iphone 5 I was
offered for 5000 naira (about
£20) was as genuine as it could
be. All of this was done with
great fun and humour. If you chose to, you could buy
everything you needed from
your car. If you didn’t, that
was fine too. Suicidal Okada The transport system is far
from perfect but all the roads
we’ve driven on are absolutely
fine. The most interesting
experience was seeing the
suicidal Okada motorcycle taxis in full force for the first time.
They have been banned in
Delta State and replaced by
three-wheel kekes. But this is
certainly not the case in
Onitsha. It is about a fifteen- minute journey from the
centre of Asaba, but it could be
on another planet. You drive over the Niger
Bridge, enter the neighbouring
state and a different world.
One where thousands of the
small machines ferry people
and any goods you can think of around. We saw one driver
with four passengers, two
adults and two children
precariously balanced in front
and behind him. Oil barrels
containing God knows what, weighing heavily on the
clearly inadequate suspension.
I was told someone had seen
an Okada carrying a donkey,
strapped to the driver as
though he was giving it a piggy back. I don’t know if I
believe this, but, from what I
saw in Onitsha that day, I can’t
rule it out. The drivers are quite mad. We
were there for about a minute
before our car had its first near
miss. We were to have many
more in the next half an hour,
with the rules of the road, like driving in the same direction
on a dual carriageway, simply
ignored. The noise is deafening. As the
Okadas rev their tiny engines,
they sound like a swarm of
very loud insects buzzing
inside your head. You very
soon begin to choke on the fumes of burning oil and petrol.
It was quite a relief to cross
back over the bridge into the
far more serene and calm
home ground of Asaba. The
welcome I have had everywhere is stunning. On
one occasion I interviewed a
senior state commissioner. It
turned out it was his birthday.
He kindly invited me to his
party that evening. I didn’t really know anyone else going
– so felt a little uncomfortable.
No need. When I arrived he
insisted I sit with him. He made sure my glass was
never empty and my plate
constantly filled. I was
introduced to everyone and
made to feel an honored guest. There was a downside to this.
The comedian who anchored
the programme took quite a
shine to me….. “Ahhh give it up
for the white man, where are
you from”? This was followed by ten
minutes of him royally taking
the **** out of me. I
understood about one word in
ten, but by the reaction of
everyone else, it was obviously very amusing. So
much for being inconspicuous. Premier League But the worst was still to
come. People began standing
up and paying tribute to the
Commissioner. He is a very
popular guy. Halfway through
the speeches the comedian spotted me once again. “Does
the white man want to speak”.
I stood, said a few words and
wished he would see his
children’s children and his
children’s children’s children. This appeared to be the toast
de jour and went down very
well. The evening ended with
lots of photographs being
taken and many new good
friends. The one thing you cannot
escape in Nigeria is the love of
the English Premier League. I
have so far failed to meet
another Leicester City fan, an
obvious shame, but there are millions of diehard Manchester
United, Arsenal and Chelsea
supporters. Watching the Liverpool v Man
Utd game at the Asaba
viewing centre, with
thousands of people wearing
the respective replica kits, was
one hell of an experience, although my eardrums may
take some time to recover.
There is no doubting their
passion. They may not have
been to Old Trafford, The
Emirates or Stamford Bridge, but the passion they exuded
was clear. I’m not sure what
‘come on ref,’ or ‘what was
that you idiot’ is in pidgin, but
I heard it several times that
day. The viewing centre was
created by the governor of
Delta State, Dr Emmanuel
Uduaghan. He is an Arsenal
supporter. I met him once
while playing tennis. For some reason he didn’t seem very
impressed by my love of
Leicester City. I simply don’t
understand why.

www.vanguardngr.com/2013/09/nigeria-in-the-eyes-of-a-briton/

.

INTERESTING i'll say.

Really Interesting.

''The welcome I have had everywhere is stunning. On one occasion I interviewed a senior state commissioner. It turned out it was his birthday.
He kindly invited me to his party that evening. I didn’t really know anyone else going – so felt a little uncomfortable.
No need. When I arrived he insisted I sit with him. He made sure my glass was never empty and my plate constantly filled. I was introduced to everyone and made to feel an honored guest.''

Awww..... how nice... Yet if you had met this same black man or his friends in your territory England you would (likely) have shunned them after passing snide comments against them, their country, and their people, and thinking ''why don't you fck off back to your country, you fcking immigrants?''.

Thanks for your story anyway.

I've not been to Delta State in a long while but with the way Uduaghan is demonized on this forum by APC bandits, one would swear nothing signifiant is happening in that state. But my impression from this article (and other things I've seen on TV or read about) is that the governor has done alot, though I'm not sure if its commensurate with the resources of the state.

One other thing is that Anambra State Govt must look for a creative way of stopping the use of Okada along major roads. I suggest that over a period of time, Okada riders should be provided with alternative jobs or alternative means of conducting their transport businesses. I dont think tricycle is an alternative to okada because its only a matter of time before that too becomes a menace.

Yes media consultancy and you are doing what you were paid to do.
Tell that to the waffis