Goodnight Entebbe.

The last thing you want to see. The absolute last thing. Let me be quite clear on this. THE VERY LAST THING YOU WANT TO SEE when coming in to land at an airport is the wreckage of a plane crash. This unfortunately is what welcomed us to Entebbe Airport in Uganda. This was the first thing that haunted me on the trip but it was not to be the last.

Considering I was already freaked out by the plane and crew that BA had provided for the trip this sight did nothing to calm my nerves. I suspect both the BA plane and crew had been pulled out of retirement for the sole purpose of delivering us to Entebbe. I'm not saying they were old but some of them were using the trolleys like zimmer frames (the crew that is). As for the plane.... well Insha Allah we took off and landed. Nuff said.

We were in Uganda to visit a charity that was set up to provide education to orphans (of which there are a lot due to the ravages of AIDS. We went through village after village where we would see children running around but no parents or at best only their grandparents). The charity itself was setup way outside Entebbe in a different town so we had a fair bit if travelling to do. We spent the first night in a hotel to acclimatise and then set off on the long journey.... to Shoprite. Yup Shoprite, where we bought various supplies and gifts for the kids. I should have stocked up on water and loo paper but more on that later.

The journey to the site of the charity was long and tortuous. On the way out of town I was actually quite amused to see the amount of activity going on in Entebbe itself. When I enquired why, I was informed that it was in anticipation of the Queen's arrival the following week for the Commonwealth Conference. Funny how governments can always find the money to spruce up the environment when dignitaries and more importantly TV cameras are expected. The streets were swept clean, the street lights fixed, not a single pothole in sight, government buildings painted, the works.

We arrived at the site and were overwhelmed by the welcome of the children. It was truly heartwarming and it was obvious some of them had not been this close to two Oyinbo ladies (Iyawo and a friend) and an extremely good looking chap (lol) for some time, if ever. This was the highpoint of the trip for me. If only I had known that then.

We were treated to a lovely but basic meal of rice and stew and also shown around the sprawling site which had started off as one building and had grown through donations into a nice little camp. We were especially impressed with the meticulous neatness of the kid's dormitories that even though they had to accommodate four kids to a room were immaculate. I silently wondered what the secret was. At dinner we were treated to a more formal welcome by the whole camp and were made to feel like stars (what with being on stage under bright lights,video cameras etc). Then it was time to retire for the night as we had a full schedule for the next day. We made our way to our two room guest shack (with sanitary bucket!) to settle down for the night. Being in the middle of nowhere there was no electricity so at 10pm it was lights out as the generator had to rest.

You will notice that I mentioned water and loo roll in one of the earlier paragraphs and then mentioned that we were fed on our arrival at the camp - twice. I also mentioned that there was a bucket in the shack for number ones. So this leads me on to a brief discussion of my scatological history. See I am as regular as clockwork. Rolex or Timex ain't got nothing on me. After breakfast. I go. After lunch. I go. After dinner. See you. Sometimes I even manage squeeze in a visit between those three. I am one of the unrecognised wonders of the world in that regard. So imagine my surprise to find that the camp could only offer basic amenities. Basically a hole in the ground in a hut on the camp's perimeter with little to no ventilation and flies, rats and other vermin as tourists and guests of the intrepid visitor. I mention all this for a specific reason so please bear with me.

I am not sure who woke up first -Iyawo or I, but it was clear that all was not well. We were hearing the most blood curdling screaming and wailing I have ever heard or hope to hear. Combine this with bursting bowels, a loo that was miles away and the overwhelming gloom of the darkness and you could perhaps understand how this was the second thing to haunt me.

Unfortunately it was not to be the worst. Or last.

To be continued.

The National Treasure.

So last weekend in my endless quest to give my kids the "Nigerian experience" (cue moaning and long sighs from back of car) I dragged them off to the National Theatre to show them around. We were lucky as there was nothing happening that day so it was deserted. We were even more lucky to come across one of the theatre's staff who gave us a guided tour of this spectacular but now crumbling edifice.

I was overwhelmed with nostalgia as I used to go and visit the theatre during my hols from school in the States and I vividly remember seeing Third World perform there. Coincidentally Iyawo was at the same show so it would appear she has been stalking me for some time.

As we wandered around this magnificent edifice it was heart breaking to see the state it had been allowed to fall into. The main hall where the shows were held was now a rotting carcass with so any holes in the roof that apparently when it rained outside it might as well have been raining inside. All the electrics had packed up, the electric moving stage was now totally incapacitated and the seats were either broken or the fabric had rotted off them. We had to tread carefully as some of the floorboards had rotted through and one wrong step......

In spite of this it was still breathtaking. Apparently it is spread over 7 floors!! and has several hundred restrooms. Iyawo was very taken (and was keen to take) with some of the beautiful and so solid carved wooden doors that were now literally hanging by a screw or a hinge.

As we went through the wide corridors, up and down the stairs and enjoyed the spectacular views of the neighbouring landscape through one of the balconies of the higher floors the guard continued to fill us in with the history of the place. Apparently it had been built by some Belgians in exchange for oil as we did not have the money to pay them in hard currency. It has its own Police station and Post Office and is located in the exact centre of Lagos to allow equal access from all corners of the state.

However due to a long running dispute between Lagos State and the Federal government over who owned it and who was responsible for maintainance it had been allowed to slowly fall into total disrepair. The good news is that a new administrator has been appointed to start reviving it and already there are some signs of work in progress. Some of the conference rooms are now being rented out for shows (the Vagina Monologues was staged there last week) , weddings and conferences and there apparently is a plan to bring the whole thing back to its previous glory. With its grounds, its vibe, the architecture and the feel of the place it could and should be one of the main tourist sites in Africa. I look forward to that day.

So if you ever have the chance I urge you to visit this piece of national treasure just to have a good look around. The architecture is still very stunning and some of the design effects are just spectacular.

Next week - The National Stadium. These kids will get the Nigerian Experience even if it kills me.

Oh there may be trouble ahead...

Oh my people.The time has come. The truth has come home to roost. The bird has flown the coop and other such alarmist phrases. As usual it started with the words every father learns to dread . "Dad we need to talk!!" our Eldest Daughter said in a manner that made it clear we were going to exchange more than pleasantries. My first action is to drag Iyawo somewhere private so she can give me the low down so I can determine if my heart (and wallet) will be able to handle the upcoming conversation. This time both would be greatly affected.

She wants to go clubbing with her friends, Iyawo confided nonchalantly. Now you know I love the woman but her oyinbo upbringing has totally ruined her. Clubbing ke? But she is not 24-25 years old yet as we had previously discussed? You know, when she was born? I enquired weakly. I mean the girl is only 15. She still has a good 10 years and several degrees to go before she can start going clubbing. I absolutely refuse and that is the last I want to hear of it.Clubbing ko.Clubbing ni. Nonsense and ingredient. End of story. Finito. Don't try me oh. No more discussion about the matter. Full stop.

And so it was that I waved her goodbye last Saturday as she made her way out clubbing with her mates. A collection of expats and locals all with car and driver at their beck and call. I tried to tell her that in my day but ZZZZZZZZZZZZZ. Not interested in the middle ages apparently. She already takes history at school.

So from me some final strict warnings:
Make sure you keep that phone on.
Make sure you text me every 15 minutes.
Make sure there is no smoking , drinking or bad behaviour.
Make sure you only go to one place and stay there.
Make sure if any man with a MOPOL escort tries to talk to you you shout "EFCC".

Actually maybe I should come with you I pleaded clinging on to her hem. She managed to brush me off after relieving me of several thousand Naira in the bargain.

Chei man dey suffer oh. I am outnumbered now. It is just me against these four women in the house. So what chance do I have? My son is not old enough yet to fight on my side and is prone to change allegiances at the mention of the word - doughnut.

So what is a father to do? Should I be letting her go clubbing in Lagos filled as it is with armed robbers, drink drivers, trigger happy cops and worst of all lecherous politicians? Or should I just do as she says and chillax (whatever that means).

Oh there may be trouble ahead..

Travelogue..............

Things have been hectic the last few weeks with two trips to London and and three days in JoBurg. All work related. Trust me, those that have to go through it understand. It is not as glamorous as it all sounds. So sitting here in our office in Berkshire with my head spinning I try to make sense of it all. So much has happened and I am sure there is so much to follow.

In no particular order – armed robbers on our doorsteps (well four doors down) last night. This is the call from Iyawo I dread the most when I am away from home. Thank God they kept their activities short and sweet. I wonder though how this has happened. Anyone who has been to Lekki recently will notice the number of brand new Jeeps (donated by the Lagos Government to the Rapid Response Team) rolling around, especially by the entrance to the Phase 1 gate and yet these madmen, desperadoes, call them what you like managed to come in and get out. It seems that shooting in the air is all that is required to clear the streets, the town, the city. I know for a fact that the Governor has been very focussed on the security situation in Lagos and whilst it has improved there are still too many of this type stories.

As predicted MYA gets to retain the Presidency. Anything else would have been lunacy and would have seriously set us back. The fact of the matter is that there would have been no point in re-running the elections with the same processes and procedures in place. So whilst it might have not been a big step for democracy, it certainly was for common sense. Something that has been lacking in our country for some time. Abi no be so?

NEPA continues to be the bane of our lives. We are still using up a 160 litre tank over a three day period as we are lucky to get 12 hours in a stretch. Sometime we can lose electricity three to four times an hour. What absolute madness and chaos. Here we are in 2008. The President has apparently gone to China to discuss this issue with them specifically. So please don’t be surprised that coming soon to a transmitter near you will be a whole bunch of Chinese worker ants who will strip down the whole infrastructure and recreate a newer, better model in no time. All the while speaking loudly and spitting on the ground after every sentence. I assume such a project will gulp ( I love that word) billions.

We arrive in the comedy club in JoBurg just as the man on stage goes into a dialogue about Nigerians and their overwhelming influence on the South African landscape. You know that when we land, man mi, we LAND. Comedian after comedian lamented about life in a mini Nigerian society. Oh how we laughed (nervously at some points) as some of the crowd were not exactly enamoured of our “influence”. It seems the women of SA are no longer safe. They are being attacked every day by strangers in luxury cars having the audacity to wave wads (of notes) in their faces and offer all sorts of outrageous things. Like stays at luxurious hotels. Per hour.

A man coming off the plane at Heathrow is apoplectic that the Custom’s agent has the audacity to touch him and ask for his passport. He waves his British passport around said agent’s face reminding him that they are both British. The agent takes him aside and I am sure quietly explains to him that there is British and then there is ……. Oh well I am sure they will agree to disagree.

Meanwhile on the same flight a man is checking his text messages on take off and when I point out that whilst I am quite prepared for him to put his own life at risk mine is worth far more than the text message. He gives me a scowl and grudgingly “switches” it off and stores it in the overhead locker. Said phone then rings continuously immediately we enter British airspace. He refuses to meet my steady gaze.

Sorry if this seems random and listless. This is one of the side effects of constant travel. Meanwhile I just want to get him to my wife, my kids, my bed, my Lagos. I miss them all so. On that note a weary traveller bids you farewell.

Dancing in the Dark...

I get up in the evening
and I ain't got nothing to say
I come home in the morning
I go to bed feeling the same way
I ain't nothing but tired
Man I'm just tired and bored with myself
Hey there baby, I could use just a little help

You can't start a fire
You can't start a fire without a spark
This gun's for hire even
if we're just dancing in the dark

Message keeps getting clearer
radio's on and I'm moving 'round the place
I check my look in the mirror
I wanna change my clothes, my hair, my face
Man I ain't getting nowhere
I'm just living in a dump like this
There's something happening somewhere
baby I just know that there is

You can't start a fire
you can't start a fire without a spark
This gun's for hire
even if we're just dancing in the dark

You sit around getting older
there's a joke here somewhere and it's on me
I'll shake this world off my shoulders
come on baby this laugh's on me

You can't start a fire
you can't start a fire without a spark
This gun's for hire
even if we're just dancing in the dark

Bruce Springsteen.

Putting out the pyre with Gasoline?

In less than 48 hours we will reach a tipping point in the history of Nigeria. It is on Tuesday when a decision will be made as to whether our President was indeed Duly elected or unduly selected. My mole tells me they are sleepless not only in Seattle but in Abuja and throughout the nation where the convoys of five serving Governors are going to be asked to pull over to the kerb in the near future.

In the meantime the Senate President has been asked to vacate his seat due to the questions raised with regards his election. He has promised to appeal which should be interesting because I cannot recall any of the previous reversals having been reversed, if you get my meaning. My mole tells me that we are now at a stage where even Ghana must go has refused to go. Left, right and centre people (the Judiciary) are suddenly saying that they are no longer for sale to the highest bidder. Now when people say see you in court it is the second sign of the beginning of wisdom. Fear of the EFCC being the first. On the subject of the EFCC apparently all of us that were crying in our tea at the removal of Ribadu and those celebrating ain't seen nothing yet. It would appear his replacement is even more committed to the cause. So again no place to hide. I mean what fun is there left in being a Governor these days?

Apparently Baba himself is not going to escape, like scott and free. His cross is being put together in the background waiting to make its own appearance. Na wa oh.

What is one to make of all this? Is it really a sign that democracy is starting to gain traction? Are the area boys really going to start to see that there is only so far that thuggery and theft will get you? Does this mean that the right people (qualified candidates, with real ideas, programmes and policies) for the job will actually start to materialise safe in the knowledge that when the votes are counted they actually stand a fair chance? Of course this is Nigeria and it is far too early to get carried away but all the signs are good.

So on Tuesday the President of Nigeria will learn whether his position is valid or not. He could be asked to vacate the office and knowing him and his love of due process as well as his reluctance to take on the job in the first place I would not be surprised if he has already packed and booked a charter holiday to the Gambia. Seriously, does it make sense for the President to be asked to leave now? What does this mean for democracy? For Nigeria? For you and me? What happens next? Another election? What if someone else wins? Would he reverse all the decisions MYA has made since coming into office? How can Iwu continue in office if all these electoral irregularities keep surfacing and getting reversed?

Meanwhile, the pyre is already lit. In the coming hours we will find out if the flames will be doused with water safely or will it be further doused in gasoline (imported of course. Sorry I could not resist).

The Chinese takeway

So it was on to London last week as the kids celebrated their school half term with their long missed friends and I carried on with the arduous task of earning a living. I normally do not get Sundays in London but this time I was lucky enough to be able to so. One of the great joys of Sundays in England for me has always been the opportunity to wake up, roll out of bed, pick up the Sunday Times and then dwell on it for the rest of day. Over breakfast, lunch,dinner, Monday, Tuesday....you get the drift.

Actually I remember back in the day when I would stop off at the corner of Marble Arch in front of the Cumberland Hotel at 3 or 4am, depending on how great the nightclub had been, to pick up the Times and the News of the World. Does anyone remember Gullivers, ThePark in Kensington, Roxys diner off Regent's Street where a group of us would pile into after a night on the tiles? I would get home just as dawn was breaking and would firstly delve into all the sleaze of the NOTW before finally drifitng off into a peaceful slumber from which I would wake and then take my time over the Times.

Anyway last week I bought the paper and the girls and I then headed over to Starbucks which is where I choked on my Chai Tea Latte. I usually read the Times magazine first and it was there that I saw a picture that troubled me to my very core. In an article about the Chinese invasion of Africa was a picture of a Chinaman who apparently owns the big Chinese restaurant in Ikoyi. He is shown standing in a sand filled area which looks like it is being prepared for new houses to be built. But this was not the cause of my high BP. Standing next to him was a member of the Nigerian Police Force in full uniform and carrying a rifle. He is also at the same time carrying an umbrella which he is holding over the head of the Chinaman protecting him from the sun. (Iyawo has just walked in and seen the magazine lying open next to me. WTF is he doing holding an umbrella over his head? she asks. So I am not the only one that feels offended by the picture.

On the opposite page is another photograph which depicts his wife entertaining members of the Senate in their restaurant. From the look on some of their faces they have never eaten Chinese food before. Wonder if they had to pay for their meal or did they just grant our friends from the East a few concessions? Wonder if a Chinese Police officer will hold an umbrella over their heads when they pay their next "diplomatic or fact finding mission" to China, via Dubai of course.

On the Lekki Expressway the Chinese Hotel is nearing completion. Apparently Nigeria is not the only country in Africa to benefit from the generosity of the Chinese. It seems that Africa as a whole has been targeted. Various Chinese dignitaries have done roadshows \campaigns where they have left behind billions of Yen in investments. Some say that this is a good thing for the continent. I am not so sure. In my admitedly limited experience the Chinese are one of the most racist people I have ever come across so I find it more than slightly uncomfortable with their "generosity" bearing in mind their growing population and need for Energy and other resources that are naturally found in "dark continent".

What do you think?