Nigeria

11/03/09

The din is almost too loud to hear my own thoughts as I battle through the thick crowds of people trying to move in every different direction, the momentum of my shoulder drooping bag carries me through the crowd with relative ease and a few fading bleats of disapproval. Finally!…. the first hurdle accomplished, I’ve made my way in through the entrance hall!

Now for the queue, and as a self confessed and accomplished Zimbabwean of distinguished queuing prowess I approached the awaiting scene with a sense of firm nonchalance. This wavered slightly, then decreased incrementally with every forward step I took as I entered what can only be described as a melee. Bag momentum had no effect in this mass as I became immediately familiar with more than my fare share of elbows, dank armpits and hard corners of sturdier cases! As for the queue even the most unflappable Zimbabwean commodity queue’r would have a breakdown in this environment as I struggled (literally) my way through the masses to find firstly if such an orderly function existed in this environment.

After several laps and nearing exhaustion with the help of a few very helpful and a few not so helpful people we, I was not alone in this unfamiliar terrain thankfully!, found our respective mass of people and reinvigorated began throwing ourselves as enthusiastically into the process. Several hours later, dripping from exertion and sporting several large and impressive bruises I was able to take stock of what had just happened. With a sense of masochistic achievement I pondered on how I had just successfully navigated the new (you would think so!) Murtala Muhammed International Airport in Lagos, Nigeria.

My immediate thought was on how different everything is in West Africa, and as far as airports go in presenting a microcosm of its society Lagos International did not disappoint. As a country bumpkin Zimbabwean the most immediate observations where how many more people there are here and how they don’t follow the same rules and codes that we (southern Africans) do. With these observations, and my melee conquering euphoria glowering, I reflected on how these different shocks to the system place our home lives in great perspective and grow us mentally, spiritually and in this case physically.

I was about to wave goodbye to the hot, humid, lush, humorous, frustrating, rewarding and obscure Nigeria where I had just spent a remarkable five days. Despite the unforgiving send off received at the airport I was melancholic to be leaving a land that offers a jungle full of sights, sounds, tastes, experiences and personal growth of which I had only sampled an insignificant amount.

Previously trigger happy military regimes which where often changed faster than bread prices in Zimbabwe have kept tourism figures in this part of the world to the select adventure seekers and those not concerned with personal safety. This has done the country’s surprisingly voluminous attractions no favours as travellers continue to see Nigeria as an oil bulging state of violence and insecurity. This may be so in and around Port Harcourt when the local militia have run up their credit cards and seek financial settlement through dealing in abducted oil workers. Despite these rare(ish) and very localised trouble spots the rest of the country and its people are nothing but friendly and hospitable so long as you are not wearing a hard hat.

In our five day whirlwind trip we encountered no tension or aggression and when I observed some locals arguing, funnily enough in the airport!, someone was quick to step in and in a very soothing quasi-Jamaican accent asked everyone politely to “take it eeeeessssyyy man!!” upon which the situation was immediately dissolved. The people are friendly and mostly speak English which is handy considering the country has over 40-odd languages spoken by many more different ethnic and cultural groups spread through 37 different geo-political states (provinces for us).

As the airport never fails to dispel to anyone who is brave enough to enter Nigeria is the most populous country in Africa (120 million) with Lagos being one of the most populated cities in the world (+-37 million) and is the biggest economy in West Africa (that’s Lagos, not Nigeria!). Nigeria is the second wealthiest country in Africa after South Africa but has oil reserves that may well supersede our southerly neighbours prime position.

Despite their huge oil reserves and ridiculously cheap fuel prices central and local Government has started a vigorous tourism campaign to develop local and national attractions and woo in the guests. Principal of these is the Cross River state, named after the impressively large and continuously brown Cross River, this state is one of the most relaxing and offers some of the more exciting and distinctive attractions in Nigeria. The Cross River National Park, Obudu Mountain Resort, Drill monkeys (highly endemically localised and very endangered) and the equally rare and endangered Cross River gorillas are some of the highlights.

Unsurprisingly then I was enthralled and acted almost akin to a gorilla when the call came through that we would be spending some time in this particular state and specifically at the iconic Obudu Mountain Resort. Getting there was no easy task and actually had me acting like a gorilla on several occasions but was well worth it as we would be travelling through the relaxed and scenic town of Calabar as well as some of the above mentioned highlights.

Unfortunately this proved to be at some considerable speed due to time constraints and the pension for any able bodied Nigerian behind the wheel of an automated vehicle to drive it past its top speed and road handling capabilities! If you have ever heard anyone complaining of traffic in Nigeria and how they drive like madmen, in an ever-increasing crescendo of despair do not dismiss them as over-exaggerators, I can vouch that it is one of the scariest 500km I have ever had to endure. I consider myself pretty unflappable in most situations but at 160 kph being launched over bath-sized potholes in the face of oncoming traffic I had already considered several different religions! Not even sleep helps.

Despite most of my car window scenes being a greeny-brown blur I managed to get some idea of the prevailing topography, with a little help from my imagination I became enraptured by the tall trees, the thick jungle, the ramshackle villages selling plantains while offering viewings of the latest European Champions League football matches!

Our hasty dissection of the Cross River National Park did little to detract from the fact that its stunningly beautiful canopy houses some of the most pristine and (mostly) untouched rainforest in the country which is a comforting thought in the most populous African nation.

At the end of our perilous and fleetingly provocative car journey awaited unbeknownst to me one of the least suspected surprises of my travelling career. After several hundred kilometres of flat green jungle we where now presenting ourselves at the bottom of the stunningly prominent Sonkwala Mountains which straddle northern Calabar state with their green prominence. My second biggest surprise, which quickly turned to abject horror was the first of way too many hairpin bends as the road snakes its way precariously to the top. With abject fear in most of the passengers eyes and unrestrained delight in the eyes of the driver he did his best to prevent our successful ascent by throwing the vehicle at each approaching bend at the usual flat terrain speed, very fast.

The adrenalin induced shivers where still raking my body when a parting in the thick grey clouds revealed a landscape of stunning rolling hills, lush temperate grasslands fringed by stands of deciduous trees, a sight as unprecedented as it was unexpected but no less breathtaking, until the next corner of course.

At the top of this stunning landscape, straddling the northern slopes of the Oshie ridge lies the sprawling Obudu Cattle Ranch. Built in the 60’ as a fashionable retreat for desperate oil workers the ranch has lost none of its lustre and contemporarily utilised by members of the ruling party, state governors and other such connoisseurs. The varying styles and ranges of accommodation only substantiate the utopic feeling created by being on top of the world by affording visitors swathes of comfort from which to ponder it by.

For those less mollified by comfort alone the resort offers much in the way of exertion, the famed Gorilla Camp hike offers enough treacherously slippery slopes for the keenest thrill seekers while proffering the alluring possibility of spotting one of the rare Cross River gorillas. In the very unlikely and disappointing event of a lack of the above sighting the views on offer on the trail are sufficient thrill.

The last but by no means least pleasurable, and voluntary!, thrill of the trip came via another unexpected source, one of the continents highest and longest cable cars! Built as an alternative means of ascent and descent it offers 360-degree views of the stunning scenery while literally being immersed in it. The views are so stunningly distracting as to almost divert you attention away from the seemingly perilous heights you are dangling from. It wasn’t enough to distract me from one of the more pronounced descents over the side of a cliff and into a large valley where we must have been suspended at least five hundred feet off the ground.

Thus a fitting end to a trip that promised and delivered thrills, spills beauty and frustration and as I ponder this over a refreshing drink in the airport I am already looking forward to and planning another visit!