Addy and Nunu’s Excellent Road Trip Across West Africa To Ghana
Accra, Kwame Nkrumah’s City
We rolled into Accra around 8pm. We had spent practically 10 hours on the road. We first went to the hotel just in front of the presidential villa called The Africa Regent. Now look at that sentence again (in front of the presidential villa). That just screamed expensive but I was like let me just walk in and scope the place out and find out how much May be as the sliding doors open, I will be the dream girl that one Chaley has been waiting for. I walked up to the counter, there were two fine boys standing as though they were in line. Now I knew they were not in line, but read my sentence again (fine boys) . I decided to ask if they were in line, just so that they can hear how sweet my voice is and we can make eye contact. They said no and I went ahead to ask the lady at the counter how much a room was. She said $250. In my mind I was let me quickly respect myself and turn around before these boys feel the vibration of my shudder upon hearing the price. I made a u-turn quick quick. Back to the van. I was like ‘Messter George plis another hotel. It is not like I will see the president from the window.’ We made our way to the next hotel, La Palm Beach Hotel. Now here’s the part that stumped me and changed the whole sequence of our adventure. Just as the hotel door man open the door and I looked up, I could not believe who was walking out of the hotel lobby about to hop into the van behind ours. A Party animal co-worker friend and his FRIENDS who were in town for the weekend. We were all tripped and were like ‘WHAT DA HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE...AIN'T UR ASS S'POSSED TO BE AT WORK?’ After exchanging our Ghana digits I went to ‘FIND OUT’ how much this hotel was now that there was actually a compelling reason to stay there. Meeeennn…here’s where the story changed. So the lady said it was $200 per night, we had only $700 and we were going to spend 4 nights, travel around town, do some tours and buy Ankara, akosombo and Woodin. You do the maths. We needed a miracle to solve this problem. So Enuka and I put our heads together and began thinking. Considering the fact that my friend and his friends are true blooded Nigerian boys who get a major plus for generosity (just by virtue of what many often call 'traditional social roles in Nigeria') if we spend our money on securing accommodation, chances are that we would not only have fun hanging out and tripping with them, but we can also guarantee safety and that when they order their food they will include us, so feeding too would be covered. Not to make it sound like a parasitic relationship Lol. We can go to Tejuoso Market and buy Ankara. But then again how can one come all the way to Ghana and not go home with anything. The other option was to go to Hotel Wangara for $80 a night but that would mean we would have to transport ourselves, roll around town alone (unsafe). We decided to cut our days short and do three nights. That left us with only $100, which we would manage VERY VERY well. We would make sure we get to the FREE breakfast at the hotel on time and eat plenty of food, find the Ghana version of Bojangles or Mr Biggs and microwave our food in the hotel. At worst we'll chop Ghana bread and coke and go to sleep. By the way a meal there cost like $200 and the food was not that great. So Enuka and I said a prayer that nothing wil go wrong and it will all factor in and work out. Then I begrudgingly counted the money and gave it to the lady. At that point everything could go wrong but I swore that I would have a great time in Ghana and not THINK too hard. And as God would have it everything worked out perfectly. We had a great time with the boys at the empty club that night just cracking up and yabbing every thing and talking smack about some busted chicks we saw. There was one in particular that my friend insisted on calling ‘Ekaite’ because she looked like a housegirl. We all didn’t get back till like 5am and you can imagine how sluggish everyone was the next morning. But not us…we were up by 10am reading to have our breakfast just incase. After breakfast, we PSYCHED the boys, who ordinarily would not leave their hotel room at that time of the day (considering the fact that they'd done some serious SHAYOING) to follow us to El Mina Castle in Cape Coast. Why did we discover that the journey was 4-5 hours not 45 minutes. The Ghanaian accent must have confused me when I was getting that information. Upon further verification it turned out it was only really 2 and a half hours. We decided to go to the Independence square and the Kwame Nkrumah museum instead. We all got some education and in the short traffic made friends with the hawkers selling artwork. Those guys really saw dollar signs written all over our van because they kept bringing ugly masks to get our attention. It seem the uglier the better. The boys kept on buying and I did all the haggling. I took the opportunity to practice my bad ghanaian-slash-sierra-leonean-accent (the later courtesy of Desmina and her extended Salo family in the Triangle) By now it was already 3pm and we had walked around town a bit and everyone was pooped. We then went out to find Local cuisine and found Vic's Chop. The food was good and I swear it's the cleanest buka I've seen. I mean we could have gone elsewhere to a fancy middle-purse type restaurant but the shuttle driver didn't know anywhere esle. So we were like 'Oh well what the heck... we are experiencing the culture.'
We went back to the hotel and Enuka and I slept till the next day. Watching Nollywood films in between. The next day Saturday, the boys had to leave and we had some change left to each buy a 6 yarder of fabric for ourselves so we decided to go to the market. Now I came up with the brilliant idea to shop for the boys so they would take something back to their wifeys and girlfriends. Now ya’ll don’t get mad, there’s no way you expect a bloke to go and buy Ankara in the market. They have no clue what to do and are totally helpless in that department. I mean it was either that or a Ghana flag necklace from the airport. So i say ya'llowe me... 3 yards 'eash plis'. LOL. We ended up buying stuff for some who had given us money, but one or two didn’t. When they saw how pretty the fabrics were and their friends by now were rubbing it in and saying 'oh Sarahtu would love this...and Janatu and Elizabetu can share this', they got jealous and felt left out. Determined not to be outdone or 'out-ankarad' they ended up buying mine and Enuka’s for...get this... DOUBLE THE PRICE. Trust Igbo girls to find every opportunity to do business. We each ended up going home with 12 yards of 4 different fabrics (we split them into 3’s) instead of 6. Sounds like a hustle to me. Naaaah!!! I am sure they were just INDULGING us for the sake of it after all these are Nigerian dudes we are talking about. LOL. But that was so totally dope because they really didn’t have to and it meant a lot to us cos we were stumped that we'd come all the way to Ghana and were leaving with onext to nothing(THANK A LOT PALS.. YOU RAWK MAJORLY!!). Don’t worry when my tailor is done, I will show you the sturvs men…VERY lovely shiny Ankara fabric. When I got home my mom and my sisters were already bribing me with FOOD to trade my Ankara. Lol. Can you imagine? My mom was like ‘Addy, I will make goat meat pepper soup for you.’ My sister and her friends have decided to go to Ghana in two weeks to buy their own fabric, so I will definitely be buying more. The drive back was depressing so I will not share that part of the story. Well here's the best part we all love. Here the PICTURES FROM OUR ROAD TRIP and stay in Ghana. Where next do you think Addy should go. I am thinking I should do all of the ECOWAS countries. Or may be you’ld like to guess where my next destination will be. Ok why don’t we do that… the prize for the correct guess will be between a souvenir from that country or 5 yards of superior local fabric (eg Ankara, adire, woodin, printex). Make sure you leave your email in the comment section of this post.
Friday, September 21, 2007
ADDY AND NUNU GO TO FIND SOME CHALEY'S IN GHANA -- PART 2
Addy and Nunu’s Excellent Road Trip Across West Africa To Ghana
Oh My Word We Are Definitely In Another Country
Crossing Seme Border was almost surreal but not quite. I mean this is the famous Seme Border that many people get yabbed and dissed over. Technically you can’t really ‘cross Murital Mohamed Airport’ to go to another country. You’ll end up in Ikeja or Mafouluku. But when you cross Seme border you have actually physically crossed over a map to another country. In fact what only separates you from being in another country is a long Bamboo stick on a metal barrel. We were fortunate enough to actually meet some nice customs officers who let Nunu and I take pictures and pose at the border. I can tell you that was the only border crossing picture we got. When we drove across the border into Benin Republic, I felt a little discomfort that made the ride just a little bit abnormal. When I realized what it was, the next thing that came out of my mouth in the most southern American accent is “Oh My Word We are DEFINITELY in another country.!!” The road was so smooth that the bus was not bumping around. It was too strange for my body, which is now quite used to dancing Ajasco and is very sensitive to ‘unbumpy’ roads. Unfortunately for me we were not in a personal car so we could not stop over in Cotonou to do some Vintage/ Thrift shopping. Cotonou is very famous for high-end second hand clothes or what we fashionistas call 'Vintage'(saying it with a french accent) for those of you who don’t know. Many have been known to find some fabulous designer items there for really cheap. It’s like Africa’s very own Flea Market. Anyways we drove past Cotonou’s less busy but clean streets. It was interesting seeing women on Motor-bikes/Okada/ scooters. They even had bike-lanes, something Nigerian roads lack. Enuka meanwhile had started sleeping but I was bugging her to stay awake. I on the other hand did not close my eyes at all because I wanted to SOAK up the sights of West Africa. We stopped along the road to buy GIANT LIVE CRABS (the driver did…crabs stink). One almost clamped my finger with its PINCERS (not claws). There was so much beautiful coastal landscape to behold. It is a shame that we have totally destroyed much of ours in the Lagos Met with trash, sand filing and reclaiming land to build homes and stuff or blocked it off with high rise buildings (BOY do I have beef with the Hotels, Banks and other springing development on the waterfront side of the Lekki Express…why deny me the pleasure of enjoying God’s gift of nature…shameful. Not to even mention those folks on stilt homes inching closer to 3rd Mainland Bridge. I am so feeling Fashola on his recent campaign to clean up the beaches. It’s a start) We hadn’t eaten and considering the fact that this was a highly unplanned trip, we did not buy any snacks to munch on in the car. We were so hungry that we bought FAN-YOGO (frozen yoghurt in a sachet) at every opportunity. We eventually got to Benin (pronounced Beh-neh), which is the border town before you get to the Togolese border. Here you could buy items with Naira, CFAs and Cedis. There were all sorts of things there on sale but mostly deep fried in palm oil (which I don’t like). Normally I would do some shakara and go hungry at that type of place BUT since i decided that we were going to experience the culture of West Africa, I was down to eat at the Border Buka. We ordered the normal regime, Rice and stew with meat. I was hoping the meat will speak French to me but it tasted like Nigerian meat. Lol. Not much difference. For the oddest reason one of the hawkers kept following us around with ‘bon-bon’ chocolate, as if it was by force for us to purchase it. I guess we looked like chocolate eating type.
Bonjour Mon Ami… Oui Oui … Huh Huh
When we got to the border between Benin Republic and Togo, Hilla Condi, it actually looked like a border. Trust us Africans to have a colorful gate. It was sort of funny and interesting at the same time. The border patrol guy came up to our van and tried to show us up with his French. I mean dude clearly saw the license plate read ‘Lagos-Nigeria’ and ‘MUS for Mushin’. So where the hell will we learn French from. He came up to the door and said something in French (which he translated as… you guessed it… What is your mission). We were like ‘Huh? Je ne parle pas...I no speakidi french’. He laughed and spoke in English for the rest of the conversation. Togo is truly a beautiful country. At least the areas along the coastal highway with the azure blue ocean. Much of the landscape is pristine and looks untouched. I am sure the damage lies beneath the trees and the sand.
Lome is also very ‘antique’ and ‘colonial’. In my head I was already picturing an independent movie being shot there. I am sure there are so many places like that in the country. I am sure Nigeria has some places like that but they might be mostly in the north (point of destination for another trip).
Oh Chaley…Is nat Werking Fer Me
We continued on, taking pictures along the way stopping at the Lome border to buy batteries (which didn’t work) and more FAN-YOGO. Lome, the Togolease capital actually is very close to the border. On the other side of the border gate is Aflao, Ghana. The immigration process on the Ghanaian side was the most organized and they actually search instead of just collecting your money and letting you pass. I was hoping the border would be cleaner that the Nigerian side ‘I wes on di-defence, bet it wes ok’ (Lol…that’s how Nana on WA Idols talks). Our bus driver took the scenic route up the coast of Ghana. The main Ecowas road that is a straight shot from Aflao to Accra is under construction like many routes in West Africa. The 2008 Africa Nations Cup is coming to Ghana and as such every one is fixing and face-lifting. Many Nigerian bus companies are even extending their route to Liberia, Senegal and Niger. The driver took a road called Keta Road. The interesting thing about Ghana that noticed is how clean, calm and serene it was. Ones environment is truly a reflection of the soul. They even had mile markers/ kilometer markers. All the signs were in place along the roads and there weren’t any ‘Vote for Me’ posters obstructing the street sign. Hardly any unsightly billboards or heaps of garbage. Even by listening to the radio you could tell that these people were of a peaceful nature. Imagine flipping through the radios stations in Lagos. On Cool Fm 96.9 you will hear Olu Maintain blaring ‘Oh Oh Yahoozeee eeee Yahoo…’. Then on Rhythm you will hear Tony Tetuila crying that he’s in love with two women and he doesn’t know what to do. You might even stumble upon ‘Wildchild’s Party’ every Friday night and JAJ's jim-jim rap music on Top Seven at Seven. Then you change to Brilla FM and all you hear is ‘Iz a GOOOOOAAAAAALLLLLL!!!!! The Golden Eaglets have served the Spaniards a bowl of Spanish Rice….Unbelievable’. I mean WTF!!!Lol!! Anyways let me fast forward. We had not booked any room in a hotel or anything. We were being like ‘white folks’ and doing ‘crazy shit’ like going to another country with no living arrangement. We decided to go from one hotel to another hoping for a good deal that will fall within our $80 /night budget. Now the following incident must have been God intervening to ensure that we had a swell time in Ghana.
Oh My Word We Are Definitely In Another Country
Crossing Seme Border was almost surreal but not quite. I mean this is the famous Seme Border that many people get yabbed and dissed over. Technically you can’t really ‘cross Murital Mohamed Airport’ to go to another country. You’ll end up in Ikeja or Mafouluku. But when you cross Seme border you have actually physically crossed over a map to another country. In fact what only separates you from being in another country is a long Bamboo stick on a metal barrel. We were fortunate enough to actually meet some nice customs officers who let Nunu and I take pictures and pose at the border. I can tell you that was the only border crossing picture we got. When we drove across the border into Benin Republic, I felt a little discomfort that made the ride just a little bit abnormal. When I realized what it was, the next thing that came out of my mouth in the most southern American accent is “Oh My Word We are DEFINITELY in another country.!!” The road was so smooth that the bus was not bumping around. It was too strange for my body, which is now quite used to dancing Ajasco and is very sensitive to ‘unbumpy’ roads. Unfortunately for me we were not in a personal car so we could not stop over in Cotonou to do some Vintage/ Thrift shopping. Cotonou is very famous for high-end second hand clothes or what we fashionistas call 'Vintage'(saying it with a french accent) for those of you who don’t know. Many have been known to find some fabulous designer items there for really cheap. It’s like Africa’s very own Flea Market. Anyways we drove past Cotonou’s less busy but clean streets. It was interesting seeing women on Motor-bikes/Okada/ scooters. They even had bike-lanes, something Nigerian roads lack. Enuka meanwhile had started sleeping but I was bugging her to stay awake. I on the other hand did not close my eyes at all because I wanted to SOAK up the sights of West Africa. We stopped along the road to buy GIANT LIVE CRABS (the driver did…crabs stink). One almost clamped my finger with its PINCERS (not claws). There was so much beautiful coastal landscape to behold. It is a shame that we have totally destroyed much of ours in the Lagos Met with trash, sand filing and reclaiming land to build homes and stuff or blocked it off with high rise buildings (BOY do I have beef with the Hotels, Banks and other springing development on the waterfront side of the Lekki Express…why deny me the pleasure of enjoying God’s gift of nature…shameful. Not to even mention those folks on stilt homes inching closer to 3rd Mainland Bridge. I am so feeling Fashola on his recent campaign to clean up the beaches. It’s a start) We hadn’t eaten and considering the fact that this was a highly unplanned trip, we did not buy any snacks to munch on in the car. We were so hungry that we bought FAN-YOGO (frozen yoghurt in a sachet) at every opportunity. We eventually got to Benin (pronounced Beh-neh), which is the border town before you get to the Togolese border. Here you could buy items with Naira, CFAs and Cedis. There were all sorts of things there on sale but mostly deep fried in palm oil (which I don’t like). Normally I would do some shakara and go hungry at that type of place BUT since i decided that we were going to experience the culture of West Africa, I was down to eat at the Border Buka. We ordered the normal regime, Rice and stew with meat. I was hoping the meat will speak French to me but it tasted like Nigerian meat. Lol. Not much difference. For the oddest reason one of the hawkers kept following us around with ‘bon-bon’ chocolate, as if it was by force for us to purchase it. I guess we looked like chocolate eating type.
Bonjour Mon Ami… Oui Oui … Huh Huh
When we got to the border between Benin Republic and Togo, Hilla Condi, it actually looked like a border. Trust us Africans to have a colorful gate. It was sort of funny and interesting at the same time. The border patrol guy came up to our van and tried to show us up with his French. I mean dude clearly saw the license plate read ‘Lagos-Nigeria’ and ‘MUS for Mushin’. So where the hell will we learn French from. He came up to the door and said something in French (which he translated as… you guessed it… What is your mission). We were like ‘Huh? Je ne parle pas...I no speakidi french’. He laughed and spoke in English for the rest of the conversation. Togo is truly a beautiful country. At least the areas along the coastal highway with the azure blue ocean. Much of the landscape is pristine and looks untouched. I am sure the damage lies beneath the trees and the sand.
Lome is also very ‘antique’ and ‘colonial’. In my head I was already picturing an independent movie being shot there. I am sure there are so many places like that in the country. I am sure Nigeria has some places like that but they might be mostly in the north (point of destination for another trip).
Oh Chaley…Is nat Werking Fer Me
We continued on, taking pictures along the way stopping at the Lome border to buy batteries (which didn’t work) and more FAN-YOGO. Lome, the Togolease capital actually is very close to the border. On the other side of the border gate is Aflao, Ghana. The immigration process on the Ghanaian side was the most organized and they actually search instead of just collecting your money and letting you pass. I was hoping the border would be cleaner that the Nigerian side ‘I wes on di-defence, bet it wes ok’ (Lol…that’s how Nana on WA Idols talks). Our bus driver took the scenic route up the coast of Ghana. The main Ecowas road that is a straight shot from Aflao to Accra is under construction like many routes in West Africa. The 2008 Africa Nations Cup is coming to Ghana and as such every one is fixing and face-lifting. Many Nigerian bus companies are even extending their route to Liberia, Senegal and Niger. The driver took a road called Keta Road. The interesting thing about Ghana that noticed is how clean, calm and serene it was. Ones environment is truly a reflection of the soul. They even had mile markers/ kilometer markers. All the signs were in place along the roads and there weren’t any ‘Vote for Me’ posters obstructing the street sign. Hardly any unsightly billboards or heaps of garbage. Even by listening to the radio you could tell that these people were of a peaceful nature. Imagine flipping through the radios stations in Lagos. On Cool Fm 96.9 you will hear Olu Maintain blaring ‘Oh Oh Yahoozeee eeee Yahoo…’. Then on Rhythm you will hear Tony Tetuila crying that he’s in love with two women and he doesn’t know what to do. You might even stumble upon ‘Wildchild’s Party’ every Friday night and JAJ's jim-jim rap music on Top Seven at Seven. Then you change to Brilla FM and all you hear is ‘Iz a GOOOOOAAAAAALLLLLL!!!!! The Golden Eaglets have served the Spaniards a bowl of Spanish Rice….Unbelievable’. I mean WTF!!!Lol!! Anyways let me fast forward. We had not booked any room in a hotel or anything. We were being like ‘white folks’ and doing ‘crazy shit’ like going to another country with no living arrangement. We decided to go from one hotel to another hoping for a good deal that will fall within our $80 /night budget. Now the following incident must have been God intervening to ensure that we had a swell time in Ghana.
Thursday, September 20, 2007
ADDY AND NUNU GO TO FIND SOME CHALEY'S IN GHANA -- PART 1
Addy and Nunu’s Excellent Road Trip Across West Africa To Ghana
(IN CASE YOU ARE NOT PATIENT ENOUGHT TO READ THE FOLLOWING POSTS HERE ARE THE PICTURES BUT YOU SHOULD READ IT THOUGH)
The Impetus
So the last week of August was odd and fabulous at the same time. I happened upon a few days off at work due to reasons beyond my control. I was quite upset and tried to sort things out but to no avail. Vex catch me and I was like omo, where I'm coming from (Yankee)is a very far place and therefore I shall not allow any ‘negative chi’ or 'Nigerian Factor' fog my head up. I called several airlines to find the cheapest ticket to London so that I can go sight seeing, as I have never been. When they told me how much it was, I thought to myself, “ How can I justify spending this much for only 5 days, when I am not Binta Yar’adua?” (Ok I just totally made that name up, I don’t think the president has a daughter by that name). I knew that no matter what, I had to leave this country called Nigeria otherwise I was going to go ballistics on some people. So like joke like joke I was like 'Bone, I am fading to Ghana". I called Ghana Airways and a round trip fare would cost N40,000. Now I tried to psyche one of my sisters to go with me but Nene had exams and Onyenachi…well she had more important things to do than indulge my spontaneity. So the only other person who was available was my friend Enuka, who just got done with her NYSC and by virtue of that was rendered penniless. So we had to come up with an alternative. So a wonderful thought came to my head. "Yo! Why don’t we take a bus."
What is Ya Mission?
We made a few calls and found out that the bus ride to Ghana would cost us only N12,000 roundtrip for each person. I thought about the fact that it was a 10 hour ride but then I thought about all the trips to my village and I was like, my butt is already flat and can take yet another 10 hours. We ended up going to Cross Country and boy were we lucky. We missed the 2nd bus and ended up being the only passengers on the 3rd bus. It was like being in our own personal car and the bus driver was very nice and became our tour guide along the Ecowas Road as it is called. We set out on the journey towards the Nigerian-Benin border around 10am. When we got to the very famous Seme Border, the customs and immigrations people asked us to get down from the bus and go to their office. Now it amazes me how different people ask different questions and address different people. When I was going to America for the first time, I had to go through customs at Amsterdam and Detroit. The officers that I met there had the same intentions as all border controllers but I noticed the difference. In Amsterdam, the guy smiled at me and was like, “Hello young lady, may I have your passport” I said sure, smiled back and handed it to him. “Oh wow… you are only 17 and traveling by yourself? What a brave little girl you are, so what brings you to America?” I’m going to school. “North Carolina has very good schools… it’s a long way from home so be careful.” He gave me back my passport and I trucked along. The same thing happened on the Detroit side, this time it was a woman. “Hi, hon…how was your trip…did anyone give you anything to carry…wow, you are just 17…my my my…when I was 17 I couldn’t take the bus to New York and here you are flying all the way from Africa. Welcome to America Darling” In between of course searching my bag, checking my passport and frisking me. Then upon arrival in South Africa I was greeted with a “Hello Sisi, Well-kom to Sad Effreeka…iz dis ya fest tam he-ya? Dis iz ah beauriful kentry… en-jaiy ya stey”. But do you want to know what happened to me on the Nigerian side the night before. Hmh… Just because I used RED pen to fill out the departure card, one baba-kasali decided to call me all sorts of names. I was like ‘This is a pink pen sir, and it doesn’t say any where on the card to use only blue or black…Ok can I please have another card and may I borrow one of your pens?” I was very nice and polite oh but this guy felt that since I speaking through my nose he would try to antagonize me. “ Is this where you collected the card? You din know before you were writing with red pen…did you buy biro for me?” Ha… see me see wahala. I looked back and the line was rather long. I boned and went to get another card and rewrote the stuff. But before I walked off I unconsciously hissed rather loudly in irritation only to incur the wrath of Baba-kasali. “Eh see dis small giel… iz it me that you are doing ‘chew’ for… you will come and tell me how you will pass here today… if you will get on this flight… you are hissing for me….I will show you..foolish girl?” Ha… at this point I was like Adaure, just calm down, this guy obviosuly does not 'LOVE MY STV' (LOL...it's a promo we're running). When I came back the guy made sure he ran to attend to me and instead of stamping my passport he went to report to some other guy and they asked me to walk into some space. Just as he started narrating and ‘telling lies on my head’, I was like, ‘Look Mister man, I don’t have your time, my passport and papers are complete, stamp it and let me go because you don’t want to mess with me in the way that you are intending this night because you'ld have picked the worng person to test.’ Another superior came and asked him what was up, by the time the guy said the reason he pulled me out was because I used a red pen and hissed at him, his superior was like, ‘stamp her passport jare and let her go my friend.’ Where exactly am I going with this story? Well, I was expecting the same reception at the Seme border.
“Hello… Good Afternoon.” Nunu and I walked up to this shoddy looking pair under a green canopy.
“Bring your passport (scrutinizing through dark aviators) Where are you coming from and where are you going?”
“We are coming from Lagos and are on our way to Ghana”
“Eh ehn ehn (still flipping through the passport) You are on your way to Ghana (I just said that…or did I stutter) 'Eye' see...What is ya mission?
“What do you mean what is our mission?” (this is me trying to extend the conversation)
“You mean to say you don’t have a mission?”
“We don’t have a mission…we just entered the bus to Ghana without any agenda… when we get to Ghana we will find a mission”
“ Ehn eh ..ok..What do you do?”
“I just finished my NYSC and am jobless with plenty time on my hands,” said Enuka
“I’m a journalist,” I said in the most uninterested manner knowing that that might prompt them to keep me longer or release us sooner, withut trying to extort money from us.
“Who do you work for and let me see your ID,” I produce my ID and she accesses it and passes it to the man sitting next to her and says to him, “They look like they are tourists just going on tour and sight seeing…ok you can go ehn…safe journey.”
(IN CASE YOU ARE NOT PATIENT ENOUGHT TO READ THE FOLLOWING POSTS HERE ARE THE PICTURES BUT YOU SHOULD READ IT THOUGH)
The Impetus
So the last week of August was odd and fabulous at the same time. I happened upon a few days off at work due to reasons beyond my control. I was quite upset and tried to sort things out but to no avail. Vex catch me and I was like omo, where I'm coming from (Yankee)is a very far place and therefore I shall not allow any ‘negative chi’ or 'Nigerian Factor' fog my head up. I called several airlines to find the cheapest ticket to London so that I can go sight seeing, as I have never been. When they told me how much it was, I thought to myself, “ How can I justify spending this much for only 5 days, when I am not Binta Yar’adua?” (Ok I just totally made that name up, I don’t think the president has a daughter by that name). I knew that no matter what, I had to leave this country called Nigeria otherwise I was going to go ballistics on some people. So like joke like joke I was like 'Bone, I am fading to Ghana". I called Ghana Airways and a round trip fare would cost N40,000. Now I tried to psyche one of my sisters to go with me but Nene had exams and Onyenachi…well she had more important things to do than indulge my spontaneity. So the only other person who was available was my friend Enuka, who just got done with her NYSC and by virtue of that was rendered penniless. So we had to come up with an alternative. So a wonderful thought came to my head. "Yo! Why don’t we take a bus."
What is Ya Mission?
We made a few calls and found out that the bus ride to Ghana would cost us only N12,000 roundtrip for each person. I thought about the fact that it was a 10 hour ride but then I thought about all the trips to my village and I was like, my butt is already flat and can take yet another 10 hours. We ended up going to Cross Country and boy were we lucky. We missed the 2nd bus and ended up being the only passengers on the 3rd bus. It was like being in our own personal car and the bus driver was very nice and became our tour guide along the Ecowas Road as it is called. We set out on the journey towards the Nigerian-Benin border around 10am. When we got to the very famous Seme Border, the customs and immigrations people asked us to get down from the bus and go to their office. Now it amazes me how different people ask different questions and address different people. When I was going to America for the first time, I had to go through customs at Amsterdam and Detroit. The officers that I met there had the same intentions as all border controllers but I noticed the difference. In Amsterdam, the guy smiled at me and was like, “Hello young lady, may I have your passport” I said sure, smiled back and handed it to him. “Oh wow… you are only 17 and traveling by yourself? What a brave little girl you are, so what brings you to America?” I’m going to school. “North Carolina has very good schools… it’s a long way from home so be careful.” He gave me back my passport and I trucked along. The same thing happened on the Detroit side, this time it was a woman. “Hi, hon…how was your trip…did anyone give you anything to carry…wow, you are just 17…my my my…when I was 17 I couldn’t take the bus to New York and here you are flying all the way from Africa. Welcome to America Darling” In between of course searching my bag, checking my passport and frisking me. Then upon arrival in South Africa I was greeted with a “Hello Sisi, Well-kom to Sad Effreeka…iz dis ya fest tam he-ya? Dis iz ah beauriful kentry… en-jaiy ya stey”. But do you want to know what happened to me on the Nigerian side the night before. Hmh… Just because I used RED pen to fill out the departure card, one baba-kasali decided to call me all sorts of names. I was like ‘This is a pink pen sir, and it doesn’t say any where on the card to use only blue or black…Ok can I please have another card and may I borrow one of your pens?” I was very nice and polite oh but this guy felt that since I speaking through my nose he would try to antagonize me. “ Is this where you collected the card? You din know before you were writing with red pen…did you buy biro for me?” Ha… see me see wahala. I looked back and the line was rather long. I boned and went to get another card and rewrote the stuff. But before I walked off I unconsciously hissed rather loudly in irritation only to incur the wrath of Baba-kasali. “Eh see dis small giel… iz it me that you are doing ‘chew’ for… you will come and tell me how you will pass here today… if you will get on this flight… you are hissing for me….I will show you..foolish girl?” Ha… at this point I was like Adaure, just calm down, this guy obviosuly does not 'LOVE MY STV' (LOL...it's a promo we're running). When I came back the guy made sure he ran to attend to me and instead of stamping my passport he went to report to some other guy and they asked me to walk into some space. Just as he started narrating and ‘telling lies on my head’, I was like, ‘Look Mister man, I don’t have your time, my passport and papers are complete, stamp it and let me go because you don’t want to mess with me in the way that you are intending this night because you'ld have picked the worng person to test.’ Another superior came and asked him what was up, by the time the guy said the reason he pulled me out was because I used a red pen and hissed at him, his superior was like, ‘stamp her passport jare and let her go my friend.’ Where exactly am I going with this story? Well, I was expecting the same reception at the Seme border.
“Hello… Good Afternoon.” Nunu and I walked up to this shoddy looking pair under a green canopy.
“Bring your passport (scrutinizing through dark aviators) Where are you coming from and where are you going?”
“We are coming from Lagos and are on our way to Ghana”
“Eh ehn ehn (still flipping through the passport) You are on your way to Ghana (I just said that…or did I stutter) 'Eye' see...What is ya mission?
“What do you mean what is our mission?” (this is me trying to extend the conversation)
“You mean to say you don’t have a mission?”
“We don’t have a mission…we just entered the bus to Ghana without any agenda… when we get to Ghana we will find a mission”
“ Ehn eh ..ok..What do you do?”
“I just finished my NYSC and am jobless with plenty time on my hands,” said Enuka
“I’m a journalist,” I said in the most uninterested manner knowing that that might prompt them to keep me longer or release us sooner, withut trying to extort money from us.
“Who do you work for and let me see your ID,” I produce my ID and she accesses it and passes it to the man sitting next to her and says to him, “They look like they are tourists just going on tour and sight seeing…ok you can go ehn…safe journey.”
Friday, September 14, 2007
RETRACTION OF 'WEDDING FEVER IS OFFICIALLY BACK' POST
It's been brought to my attention that the above post has unfortunately been UTTERLY MISCONSTRUED and MISINTERPRETED and thus out of respect to the bride and groom I've decided to take it down. The intent of the post was to honor the wedding on my blog as I have done with others in the past and not to cause grief or disrespect to anyone. Especially not to the bride or groom, for whom this was a very special day. I understand that many readers are still getting used to my style of writing and my form of expession and may not have appreciated my description and humor. My apologies if any was directly offended. Having said that, I would like to reiterate the fact that this is a blog; an online diary, a public journal of personal views, opinions and interpretation. It's the world as Adaure sees it. I do enough self censorship as it is and the essence of blogging will be lost if I have to 'Mind My Language' all the time and worry about intent and purpose being mangled in misinterpretation. I will make an exception in this case ONLY as a sign of respect to Walter and Udo and because the intent, the essence and the humor has been miscontrued. This does not open the flood gates of retraction requests. Once again Adaure (that would be me...over here...yeah...Hi )and all her blog readers (that wuld be the rest of you) are wishing the couple a wonderful and happy married life....7X7X7 in years and KIDS too. Cheers guys (ok... easy up now... ya'll can put the gloves down... how 'bout some beer eh!)
Thursday, September 13, 2007
YOU THINK NEW YORKERS ARE MEAN DRIVERS...
Try Lagosians
Driving in Lagos is challenging. That's an obvious fact. The roads, the various coffins of wheels and let's not even talk about the Okada rider's. On several occasions, I've wnated to park my car, grab my big green umbrella and thwack the hell out of drivers and put the umbrella into the wheel spoke of those buzzing motorbikes. I mean where did we lose it in Nigeria. Why is it that when you put on your signal light to move into the next lane, it takes 5 cars to go past before the 6th feels sorry for you and lets you in. Why do people cut you off and then when you squeeze your face because they nearly hit you, they ask 'na your papa get road?" Why do the Okada riders insist on weaving in and out of your path and then when you hit them, they surround you and bring out daggers and arrows. Why do people keep honking when they see that the reason you are stopped is because there's a tanker trailer right smack in the middle of the road. Why do people insist on driving over the dividing line. WHY LAGOS WHY!!!!
Driving in Lagos is challenging. That's an obvious fact. The roads, the various coffins of wheels and let's not even talk about the Okada rider's. On several occasions, I've wnated to park my car, grab my big green umbrella and thwack the hell out of drivers and put the umbrella into the wheel spoke of those buzzing motorbikes. I mean where did we lose it in Nigeria. Why is it that when you put on your signal light to move into the next lane, it takes 5 cars to go past before the 6th feels sorry for you and lets you in. Why do people cut you off and then when you squeeze your face because they nearly hit you, they ask 'na your papa get road?" Why do the Okada riders insist on weaving in and out of your path and then when you hit them, they surround you and bring out daggers and arrows. Why do people keep honking when they see that the reason you are stopped is because there's a tanker trailer right smack in the middle of the road. Why do people insist on driving over the dividing line. WHY LAGOS WHY!!!!
Monday, September 10, 2007
BREAKING NEWS -- CELL PHONE AMBER ALERT
PLEASE BRING MY BABY BACK!!!!!
This is an emergency. I feel naked and helpless. Can you imagine someone had the audacity and the autocracy to pilfer Addy's phone. The phone that I managed to get as a birthday present from my dad, 5 months after. It happened at the wedding reception on Saturday. I just set the phone down along with my purse and camera to hug and shake someone and when I turned back around, the phone which I had put in the camera case was gone. The camera and the purse fortunately were still there. I was like that's odd, I know I just set the phone down just moments ago. Can what I am thinking really have happened. My friends who were there and another guest helped me look around for it and then I spotted some shady looking dude who didn't look like a guest and had started walking away suspiciously. My friends wen and shook him up a little bit and they gathered that there were two other men who were well dressed that had actually been stalking around for my phone and were talking about stealing it, but they had already left. While I don't buy that from the guy, I can see how that could have happened. See I was busy gossping and texting my friend back and forth. I also think the phone's spirit was also preparing me for the seperation because the whole of last week, I found myself forgetting my phone in the bathroom, in the kitchen, in the radio studio, in someone's office etc. Plus everybody's eyes have been on that phone, admiring it and wishing they had that, and now it's gone. I swear I feel like I have lost a pet of something, because I am always on that bad guy, surfing the net, making notes, 'scheduling'. You know pretending like I am working when really I am sending text messages to Matilda, Ayisola, Ndidi and Singto. Oh and ofcourse I must not forget the messages to the cute blokes too and all the 'H-G-A' and 'C-B-A's' (hot guy alert and cute bloke alert) on your 12 o'clock. AAAAARRRRRRGGGHHHHHH!!!
So this alert is going out to the whole of Lagos. If you are in possession of a cell phone that looks like the above picture -- please look in the text message section. If you see messages that are similar to the above, perhaps you are with my phone. If the names in the contact list are not your friends or have name entries that begin with 'De' please that might just be my phone. Or if you know you did not walk to the shop or market with money you worked for to buy the phone then it aint yours. And this is me just venting because the person who stole the phone probably has never been on the internet. I just need to vent. Anyways if anybody gets any strange call from anybody claiming t be my PA or assistant or some bullshit like that, please hang up o. I wil try to get my number back and if not I will let all who need to know what my new number is. May be you guys can go ahead an email me your numbers or send a message via face book. Please put in the subject line 'MY NUMBER' so that I can search for it within my emails. Meanwhile it appears there are no more 9300i's in Lagos or is theer any where else to get one apart from the Nokia shops, I-cell, Computer Village and Alaba Market. I'll try Mega Plaza this afternoon. (Kai!!! This is where an Aristo/ sugar daddy would have been useful in my life. Why the hell am I buying a phone in this Lagos when there are people getting them for free. See my life) Anyways I am making my way to one babalawo to invoke some 'MAGUN' jazz on the phone. That oughta teach the person not to fap people's things next time.
(Cough) Ehem... if there's anyone feeling generous and would like to replace my phone, I won't mind oh. May be you have a few too many or the one you gave your housegirl or boy is not being fully maximized to its utmost potential, 'plis consider me'. Right now I am eyeing the Nokia E90 below (yes I know o my eyes are big sha) LOL
Tuesday, September 04, 2007
SOUTH AFRICA TRIP PICTURES
We All Love Pictures!!!!!
Addy doing the Jesus/ Leonardo Di'Caprio Titanic Pose
CONGRATS SEYI AND SIJI
Keeping it Tarheel
This is yet another one whihc I was hoarding and may have goofed on as well. I guess you can call me Goofy.
Congrats to my friends (I seem to have a lot o) Seyi and Siji Gbade Alabi. They also tied the knot recently. I was only able to attend the traditional ceremony. Siji and Seyi are my friends from UNC. We were in OASIS, the African students organization and you can see those and the wedding pictures on their lovely website http://www.seyiandsiji.com/. They had their wedidng in Nigeria and also had a reception in Durham so my Dur'mite and Raleigh friends will be generous and provide us with those flicks or do I need to go and fap them from facebook.Lol.
Anyways Siji and Seyi, congratulations. Happy married Life. May you live long, have plenty children and grand children, build a big house with a big back yard, may you have leeches that will be coming to your house every sunday to chop eba...etc etc .. you know... all the works and sturvz. Demi and Oyinkan we are waiting for you o... or is there someone else that we should be expecting invitation from...hmh.. with all the pictures I am seeing... you people should give me ample notice o. YOu know buying ticket from Lagos to Obodo Oyibo is not like going to GreyHound o. Lol. I tried to think of a story on Siji but thre are just too many that I can't pick a good one...well except for the fact that we cannot see his chest again doing OASIS Jungle dances. That's now exclusively for the Mrs. Lol. May be Singto and Ndi can help out here. Once again cheers kiddos.
CONGRATS UYI AND HANA
I so totally goofed on this one. I have been meaning to write a post about this wedding but I kept getting distracted. In fact I was actually hoarding it during my 'hiatus'.
Congratulations to my friend Uyi Imoisili and my primary & high school mate Hana (who by default is now my friend). They tied the knot/ got hitched/ jumped the broom on Saturday September 2nd 2007. Uyi and Hana went to ISL and they were a set above me. Funny how life turns out. They never spoke to each other back then and it turns out they were destined for each other. Hmh so could this then mean that your 'sweetheart' could just be right under your nose all this while and you are just too busy doing 'big-G' to notice. SHINE YOUR EYE!!!! LOL!! By the pictures I can tell the wedding was fabulous. Love love Hana's dress. Unfortunately I could not attend but I am popping my Yago and Egovin and drinking on your behalf. Here's to wishing you a happy married life, many children and a whole lot of love and money to train them.
Check out there wedding website : Uyi and Hana
and the pictures on 'Facebook' courtesy of Temi Kujore and Aluyah Imoisili
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