UMUAHIA and BENIN CITY

9/10 MAY 2011
UMUAHIA and BENIN CITY
Rally driving through the countryside

My last view of the mighty Niger River

Did you remember the spare wheel?

Look, I'm not phat, just thick

My journey to Umuahia starts well enough, with a lovely prayer that everyone joins in on! I’m off to visit Nigeria’s National War Museum, which supposedly showcases the remains of the Biafran struggle for independence in the late 60’s. Now this is a war I remember in the international news because as a young catholic we were forever being encouraged to give to the starving Biafrans – and starving they were. Millions died in that independence struggle, from the war or the ensuing famine. Arriving in Umuahia, I get a trike to the museum, and start to head inside when the security guard directs me over to a women sitting at a women table under a shelter amongst the tanks on display outside. I ask him why and he seems very reluctant to tell me – just insisting I should “go over there”. I meet with a woman sitting back, chewing gum and chatting to her mate and kindly ignoring me. I indicate to the guard that she doesn’t seem to want to see me – when he comes over and yells at her. OK, she explains that its 100 Naira to visit the museum BUT because there is no power it will cost 2000 Naira to start the generator for lighting. I tell her it’s ok, I have a torch – “No, that is not allowed”. I am flabbergasted – this is the equivalent of $15 and is an absolute con. I try reasoning with her, tell her that I am really interested in this museum, have travelled especially to visit etc but she remains unmoved. Her mate tells me to wait – perhaps a group may turn up and I share with them, but Miss gum chewer says no, no group today. Then another bloke comes over and from the gist of his converstation, I gather he’s trying to get me a discount, but she remains unmoved. Alas so do I and leave without seeing the museum and thus ends my visit to Umuahia.
Yes, I feel very stubborn and silly about this, but I reckon that they purposely don’t run the lights etc just so they can charge to ‘run the generator’ and make a tidy profit on the side which I am not in the mood to fund today. On my walk back to the road I see plenty of kids about not at school and I ask my next trike driver why they are not at school – he says its school holidays, but I know school went back today. Not a good sign for this community, especially as the lorry park is crowded with kids working… Perhaps this why Biafra lost their war and quest for independence?
Not long to wait for the lorry (mini van) to fill and we’re off across the country side again to Initsha to make another connection to get to Benin City. All to the easy listening tunes of Christian music cds, to which lots of passengers Easy ride to the centre of town, I get befriended by a young woman who wants to walk with me to my hotel – no she has never head of it, I should get a taxi. I assure its only a few blocks and I can walk there. This town’s map is correct and there is the hotel, but I can’t shake my new friend – she’s coming in to make sure all is ok. Then she’s coming up to the room to make sure its ok, even to the point of checking the bathroom, the fan, the tv and aircon ‘for me’. I am not really sure why she is doing this; does she think there may be something in it for her or is she just being genuinely friendly and looking after me? I honestly still have no idea! These Nigerians are such a mixed bunch!

The photo that got me into trouble

OK, first thing Tuesday is get to the Airport to find Arik Air and to buy a ticket to Accra so I can catch my flight to Namibia tomorrow night. Line up in the queue, line up in the queue and line up some more whilst noticing that folk keep reassuring each other in the line about their own whereabouts – “I’m behind you, right?” before walking off to do something else. So I head to another window to find out if they take credit cards – NO. Any money changers here @ the airport? Yes, and I’m walked to an office, where the girl shakes her head and says the man is not here now. OK, this means I book the flight, head to town, change money head back to the airport to pay. OK, do they know how much my flight may be? Ask at the next window – which I do and the nice man there gives me a reservation number, owe 32,000 Naira but must return to the queue to get the paperwork required to make the payment!. Back to the line (to my original place, mind you), more chatting to my fellow queuers about where they’re going when a fight breaks out near the front of the line because someone is most unhappy with someone else’s opinion of their place in the line, which is most entertaining as it simmers away long after the yelling finishes. Soon enough I get to the front of the line – I get the paperwork and before heading back to town, I try the money changers again – no man there but the girl has bundles of cash in hand. Not a great rate but I am now so close to flying south I’m nearly excited. Pay at one window, provide the receipt at the next (this office has 3 windows) and BINGO I now have a confirmed seat to fly Lagos to Accra, Ghana to connect to the Air Namibia flight which will take me all the way to Windhoek, Namibia. One of the women I have talked to is waiting out front and offers me a lift back to town, which I accept (despite kidnap warnings) and I get driven straight to the Museum’s door. On entry I get told there is no power, and unlike Umauhai they suggest I return when the power is back on around lunchtime. Now this museum is located on the island of a large roundabout in the centre of town, with all of Benin City’s traffic driving around this it. To get off the island is to truly risk your life – your sightline (and the drivers) is diminished by the curve of the roundabout and the traffic is non-stop. I watch one couple cross and move to where the traffic veers off giving you only half of the main road to cross, although this does mean standing in the middle of the road awaiting another break, but at least you are standing where drivers have a good chance of seeing and avoiding you whilst you await a break. Mission accomplished I have a leisurely day to check out the working palace here, the Bronze Casters Street (UNESCO funded and rated) and risk my life trying to get back across to the museum. This time there is power and exhibits are fabulous – beautiful bronzed carvings of beautiful serene faces that are very distinctive. That night I have a beer at a car wash and get befriended by a group of young Nigerians – 2 of the men are driving very expensive cars and they are off to a nightclub. Photos are taken, one man tells me about his two brothers studying in Australia and I would love to ask them how their mummy and daddy fund such a lavish lifestyles. Alas next day I notice that the girls who were so interested in my photos have deleted all photos taken of myself with the men – very odd behaviour.

FACT: Sadly I read in one of the daily papers of a middle aged man arrested along with eight others for kidnapping and murdering a 12 year old boy, for a ritual purpose’. I have also heard that women can be chased out of communities for being witches. Hmmmm Another article detailed the sentencing of s msn to eight weeks imprisonment for stealing four bags of cement, which sounded a little harsh to me!