Away From Nigeria

I spent some time away recently.

I drove a long distance to where I had chosen for this time away.

I realized that the trip was very necessary for several reasons but the point of my treatise is not any of my reasons for making the trip.

It was what I saw during the trip.

Lagos–Badagry Expressway was unbelievably terrible.

It is a real shame and eyesore that the road that leads into this country from other West African countries is in such a state.

In parts, there is no road to speak of.

There are several excavation sites masquerading as potholes and caverns hiding out on the road.

I made to bypass the bits between Mile 2 till after Okokomaiko as I had been told those were the real time wasters so my journey detoured via Iyana Ipaa, through Idimu to Igbo Elerin (or Oloyin). 

An angel disguised as a bus conductor saved me some time by letting me know construction had reached the exit point I was heading for.

When I returned to the main road around the area before Federal Government College Ijanikin, I almost gave up and turned back.

The car and I were exhausted at the constant battle to decipher what part of the road (I use the term loosely) to attempt to hog while other road users attempted to wrestle me for it.

I used my horn copiously and also wound down the window to glare at those I felt were not complying with my unspoken rules of not trying to dent my car as I tried to go ahead and get to my destination before dark.

We should all be thoroughly ashamed; the government for allowing things to deteriorate to that level and still be pussyfooting about fixing it, and the people for not demanding better!

Not that I know how that can be done, I just think we deserve better!

Around Mowo where I was raised after my father moved us from Lagos Island to Badagry in the eighties, there is a token effort at putting some form of drainage in place.

Not a lot of work is being done but even this little feels like very little.

The heart breaking damage to parts of the vegetation made me shout out loud when I got to the stretch between Mowo and Aradagun.

It seems some construction work to attempt to connect Iworo (where the cashew plantation and Whispering Palms is situated) to the expressway somehow. I have not gone on that road in a long time.

Anyway, arrived at the hotel that I hoped to stay at around 6pm and went straight to bed. 

I was exhaustipated (a condition of being so exhausted that you become constipated with exhaustion).

I had called ahead to try and book a room at the Lagos State Chalets on the road that leads to ASCON, after the Badagry General Hospital and was told the place was undergoing renovations.

I had rented two 3 bedroom chalets for my friends and my Aunt when I had buried my Dad 2 years before and loved it.

As with all things Nigerian, there were a few problems but our chalet was right beside the water and I am sure I don’t have to repeat how much I love the water.

I remember taking a shower the first night we slept there and I was looking out at the water as I did and it felt like I was swimming. 

Trying to book a room, I was told they were renovating and not taking guests so I went to the hotel where my guests stayed during my Dad’s burial ceremonies.

Waking bright and early the following morning, I wanted to visit my Dad’s grave as I had brought a wreath to place on there but driving the short distance to the burial ground, I met the place firmly locked and the padlock mocking me.

I looked around and then saw a phone number on the wall nearby which I called and the person at the other end assured me he could come and open the menacing padlock for me but that it would cost me.

I attempted to reason with him by asking (the obvious questions) if he was not a government official and if this was not his job but he made me realize my only hope of getting to my Dad’s grave was to agree to pay him and after I did, he showed up and even partly redeemed his image by providing me with water to get the grave sparkly clean like I wanted it.

After spending time there, I drove towards the beach, and the roads did not improve even though I was now closer to the border than ever.

I eventually made the trip to the border at Seme and even walked like I was going across but as I did not have my passport and have a mortal fear of security in Nigeria, I stayed firmly within Nigeria.

I do not know how we are expected to have any national pride in Nigeria.

I really don’t.

I used to be fanatical about her but even I can see that it's an exercise in.....well, you call it!

What is there to love, please?

Emotionally draining, spiritually bankrupt, and physically nondescript!

It is so exasperating to be Nigerian.

While attempting to put my thoughts about this trip together, like I don’t have enough to be mad about, that Senator who assaulted a lady and was filmed while doing it came online to boast about his ‘leadership qualities’! 

I am truly stumped as to what he refers to.

Is it his ability to assault or the lies he tried to tell to wriggle out of being held accountable for his actions or the rudeness to the Senate committee that tried to make him seem like he was being disciplined or the many selfies he took in court or the ones who decided to legitimize his foolishness by giving him an award (if at all).

I want to say I am tired but that is beside the point. 

I’m still here and so, I choose to say all of this is not the way it should be.

We deserve better!

We demand better!

For Lagos-Badagry expressway

For Lagos State Chalets in Badagry

For Lagos-Badagry-Seme expressway

For justice in the land

Prosecute ‘youngest Senator’

Hold Nigerian Senators to minimum standards of decorum!

This is a rant.

About how painful it is to get away from the reality of being Nigerian.