Nigeria Welcomes You

The KLM flight from Schiphol in Amsterdam had been in the air for eight hours. The pilot was initiating the final landing sequence. Murtala Muhammed International Airport Lagos was a few minutes away.

Mr Bob Becks looked out of his window, all he saw were bushes interspersed with a chaotic arrangement of roofing sheets. It briefly reminded him of his high school Physics lesson where his tutor explained the theory of Brownian motion of molecules. The buildings he saw from 20,000feet above were certainly arranged in that manner. He was also reminded of his son, Jack's first Lego's...they were everywhere and anywhere, reflective of the state of mind of a typical two-year old. Under his breath, he muttered 'Good Lord!'. Apparently, he had spoken it out loud.

Mr Greg Koller was in the seat next Bob. He chuckled and continued reading his book. He had noticed the fascination with which Bob stared out of the window at Lagos below. It reminded him of his own virgin Lagos trip. He was now accustomed to Lagos life and he was proud of himself.

'Amazing innit?' Greg said to Mr Becks, who is now jolted back to the pressurised cabin.

'Sorry?' he retorts.

'Lagos...I noticed you were captivated by the aerial view (guffaws), trust me, its much worse than it looks!' says Greg.

'Wow! Never seen anything like it' replies Bob.

'Oh, well...you get used to if after sometime though. It 's really an interesting city' says Greg.

Greg Koller is a Project Manager for a German construction company. He first visited Lagos in 2007, when he was posted from his hometown of Munich in Germany. Since then, he flew into Lagos almost on a monthly basis. There was always an ongoing project in Lagos and its environs. His construction company was thriving economically in Nigeria and it did not look like the flow was stopping anytime soon.

Mr Bob Becks on the other hand was visiting Lagos for the first time ever. An English by birth, he worked with a multinational auditing firm. He grew up in North London and raised his family there. He now had a son, Jack and a daughter, Emily, who was just nine months old with his dear wife, Kathy. Lagos was a new experience for him, he had never been to Africa.

Finally, the aircraft taxied to its terminal. The landing had been free of any drama and Bob had been perplexed when passengers started clapping once the plane touched the ground. He assumed it was some cultural ritual Nigerians did whenever they flew, especially as he noticed most of the people on board began praying fervently as the plane began its final descent. The overhead cabin signs came on and again the pilot welcomed the passengers to MMIA, he thanked them for flying KLM and urged them to remain seated and leave their seat-belts strapped on till the overhead lights went off. To Bob's surprise, half of the Nigerians scurried out of their seats as the pilot's instructions floated through and were already reaching for their hand languages in the overhead storage compartments.

Greg Koller laughed again when he saw the befuddled look on Bob's face.

'This is Lagos, Bob...instructions are taken with a pinch of salt' he said.

Bob Becks groaned. This was going to be a strange trip. He knew immediately.

In the lounge, he waited for his luggage while he quickly went through his mobile phone for any messages he may have missed while in transit. It was incredibly hot and he had started sweating under his shirt. He wondered if the air-conditioning was functional. Just then, he looked up and saw Greg walking towards him with his own luggage.

'Hi, Bob...how's it going?' Greg asked.

'Fine mate, just waiting for my luggage' replied Bob

'Oh, you may need to walk to that area over there to your right, apparently, the conveyor belt pulled a hamstring this morning' Greg said as he winked and walked towards Customs.

Bob's sweating suddenly became profuse. This was not the plan.

He got through Immigration fairly easily but noticed the Customs and Immigration officers kept greeting him repeatedly, as if he was missing something. They seemed officiously and profusely nice. He assumed it was the Nigerian hospitality he had read about back in London.

Finally, he was out. Many folks had offered to carry his luggage for him but he had declined. He wondered why they were so keen to help. He was yet to make any plans for transportation. He assumed there would be a quick airport shuttle train service down to the centre of the city. He however needed a quick smoke. Again, Greg came to the rescue. He was standing just by the exit, puffing hungrily on a stick of cigarette. He made his way towards Greg.

'Got an extra smoke?' he asked gaily.

'Sure!' said Greg as he offered him a light as well. 'Anyone picking you up?' continued Greg.

'Not at all..I assumed I could get on a shuttle to my hotel somewhere in Victoria Island' replied Bob as he checked a notepad where he had penned the name of his hotel.

'Oh I see...I'm staying around there too, my company chauffeur is bringing the car round, you could join us into town, if you want'.

Bob looked around and exclaimed 'I'd love that! Thanks indeed!'

The car finally arrived and the noise in the air was baffling. Bob had noticed very quickly that Nigerians shouted a lot. He wondered if they suffered from a regionally prevalent auditory pathology. The mobile policemen too were quite eager to assist in loading in the luggage into the trunk of the vehicle and they profusely repeated something he could not quite make out. It sounded like 'Oga, welcome, anything for your boys' or something of the sort. He hurriedly got into the car as he wondered why they wielded Kalashnikovs like they were expecting the Taliban to strike soon. He found it intriguing.

As they drove away from the airport into the pitch darkness of Lagos, he and Greg made small talk about his choice of vodka.

Bob: Is it always this dark in Lagos? The roads are so dark, I can barely see!

Greg (laughs): That's PHCN...note the name, you'll hear it often. This is Lagos and it is working.

Chauffeur (Edet): Yes o, Oga! Lagos is working o...Eko o ni baje (in thick Bakassi accent)

Bob: Eko what?

Greg: Not to worry Bob, apparently its some thing local folks say to amuse themselves around here.

Bob: I see...

They were now approaching Oshodi and the undulations on the road began to make him shudder.

Bob: Say, Mr Edet, I think you should have your shock absorbers checked out though!'

Edet: Ah! No be my shock absorber o...na so the road be Oga...e don even better now...before before, we no dey pass here for night...'

Greg: Oh Bob, not to worry...this is a fine road...you'll say I told you so after a week in this city (giggles).

Bob notices suddenly there's a long queue of cars as they drive further. The queue is about 200 meters long from his estimation and leads straight up to a gas station on the other side of the road.

Bob: Say, Greg, what are those? (pointing to the queue)

Greg: Errrr....Cars?

Bob: Yeah I can see that...I mean, what are they waiting for? Is there like an event going on there?

Greg: Oh, that's a fuel queue...there's a scarcity of petrol so these queues surface every now and then.

Bob: That's strange...I always thought Nigeria was one of the few African countries with rich crude oil deposits. Even Google said so when I looked up Nigeria at Heathrow...'

Greg: Well, you are right...Nigeria's just special...they drill oil but don't have petrol...errrr...its really hard to explain really so just forget about it....its one of the complexities of human existence I guess

They were now approaching Ikorodu road and traffic begins to move slowly, horns are blaring and cars are swerving right and left like rabid dogs. Bob notices a free lane on the right of the expressway and notices also there's a concrete barrier delineating that part of the road.

Bob: Say Greg, what's that for? (pointing to the concrete barricade)

Greg: Oh, remember when I told you in Lagos instructions are taken with a pinch of salt? Well, that's supposed to keep folks off that lane, it's dedicated to some fancy bus service that's rapid and efficient! Like I said, Lagos is working...'

Bob: But its in the middle of the expressway! Isn't that dangerous?

Greg: Dangerous? Nah...its not...the people know its there so its your business if you decide to run into it!

Edet: Yes o Oga, na wey traffic law don dey...if LASTMA  catch you for dia, e don be for you o!

Bob: LAST...what? What's that?

Greg: Oh, that's the traffic division, sort of like the DMV or traffic police. Ruthless fellows. They are mean bitches. They hardly smile! Avoid them! Trust me, you'll thank me later!

Bob: Wow, so much to learn...feel like I should be taking notes or something! Why do they blare their horns so much though, is it a competition or something?

Edet and Greg both burst out laughing.

Bob continues 'No, really, its amazing! And there are so many cars on the road...very narrow roads too...don't folks use the tube?'

Edet: Tube? Like hose? Oga you wan buy black market? Fuel dey the moto o!

Bob looks on, evidently very confused.

Suddenly a Danfo flies into their lane and Bob screams in trepidation.

Edet: Oga, wetin happen (looking startled), insect bite you?

Bob: Whoa! Did you see that? Dude drove like he was in a Fast Five audition! And he's not even wearing a seatbelt! And look at the fellow hanging at the door of the vehicle...Christ!

Edet: Haba, Oga na why you dey shout? I even think say dem thief your phone for that bus-stop wey we just pass sef. Hiss.

They are now in Apongbon traffic and suddenly sirens are blaring in the air. Traffic parts as if Moses just commanded the Red Sea.

Bob: Is that an ambulance or fire truck? Hope they get there on time before there's a casualty.

Greg: Nah...its just a VIP passing...no fire, no emergency...he just can't stand the traffic apparently. So Nigerians let them pass while they, the commoners, remain in the gridlock. Remember...

Bob:....yeah, Lagos is working...I remember!

Edet rememebers he has not had a meal since noon so he waves a young man selling Gala and another selling LaCasera. He buys one of each and Bob again seems puzzled.

Bob: Oh wow, so they can deliver this to your home on request? Or he stays around here? What's such a young man doing out this late anyway?

Edet:(now chewing) Ah Oga! e must sell finish before he go house o! Nigeria no easy o...

Bob begins to look closely at the hawkers in traffic. He saw everything from raw fruits to knives to fire extingushers to live puppies. He swallowed gently. All the while Greg was staring at him.

Greg: No worries my friend...at least they don't sell ammunition in traffic...

Bob: I was just going to ask if they did actually!

The three of them burst out in laughter just as they drove past a billboard on Outer Marina that read 'BRF is working...Lagos is working...Pay your taxes...Eko o ni baje!'

Eko for show!