Bag Minus Cat

Since the proverbial cat is out of the figurative bag, I thought I'd share with the blogging world that my time in Nigeria is about to come to an end .... almost a full month ahead of schedule.

As readers of this blog may have realized, things here in Nigeria have been less-than-perfect. Of course, having lived in Africa for a large portion of my life, I realize that, as a continent, things seem to be generally less-than-perfect here and, as my heart seems to be set on working in and for Africa, I have come to accept the current state of things for better or worse.

However, during my stay in Nigeria I have realized that even someone as optimistic and flexible as myself has their limit, their breaking point, if you will;  mine just so happens to come at a unique three-way junction between "lack of respect," "lack of cooperation,"  and "extreme financial cost." It seems that, personally speaking, at this junction a question arises: "What is the point?" - To which my answer, in this case, happens to be "There is none."

It was about that time that I began the arduous task of changing my flight out of Nigeria which is perhaps the most complicated flight-related task I have ever embarked upon. ** For a sidebar story about this particular adventure, please see italics below **

However, for as frustrating as this process has been - both being in Nigeria and trying to find a way out- it has been a blessing to have 3 companions to share the burden with me. More importantly, it reinforces my decision to leave ahead of schedule when all 3 of my companions, having reached similar conclusions about our time here, have made the decision to leave with me. As one of my FM Scouts colleagues said : "This wasn't a decision that was entered into lightly" but, having made the decision, I stand by it and I am happy to have others - especially those I respect - standing with me.

It is also worth saying that, despite my disappointment with the Nigerian organization that first brought us to this country, I have been impressed by the professionalism of many other organizations here as well as the extreme entrepreneurial spirit of the Nigerian people. To be certain, there are good and bad people everywhere in the world and Nigeria is no exception. However, I am lucky enough to have met more good than bad people here and I will leave this experience having learned a great deal - about entrepreneurship, Nigeria, Africa and, of course, myself. I'm sure it will be several weeks (possibly months) after my departure before I'm able to fully process everything that has happened; I'll be sure to keep my blog updated as my thoughts progress.

Finally, in order to make the most out of a less-than-perfect situation, I have decided to spend a few more weeks on this side of the world with my family and friends in the U.K. before returning to the US on May 3rd. Ultimately, I think the extra time on American soil will be the best thing for me and will (hopefully) allow me to better prepare for my up-coming 27-month Peace Corps assignment in Togo which begins June 2nd.

Here's lookin' at you, Nigeria.




In a few days, I will be driving straight instead of exiting right...
 *Sigh of happiness*



**** Transportation/ Flight Drama Side-Bar ****

Since phones in Nigeria are pay-as-you-go, I gave my poor mother the sad task of calling the airline to re-schedule my departure. Unfortunately, this particular airline has an antiquated, anti-user system which requires an agent to submit a proposed flight change as a request to a supervisor which takes 24 hours to approve. Of course, to make matters worse, only one proposed flight change can be submitted at a time so in a situation such as mine when a customer would like to explore all of their options before making a decision, there is a great deal of headache-inducing red-tape to get through. And, of course, the matter of choosing a flight out of the country was further complicated by the impending elections. In an example of "great planning" by the airlines, flights were still scheduled to arrive and depart from Nigeria despite the fact that, due to the anti movement laws, no one can get to the airport.  During this process, my mom spoke to no less than 4 different agents on my behalf only 1 of whom was even vague sympathetic of the difficulty of the situation. Needless to say, the sheer amount of time required to resolve this issue over the phone could not have been accomplished from Nigeria as, like I said, all phones are pay-as-you-go and I would have spent a fortune purchasing phone credit just to ask for the help of an airline to whom I have already paid a rather generous sum of money. (Thanks, Mom.)

Finally, my mother managed to secure a proposed departure date! Horray! But, when she tried to pay for the cost of the flight changes using a credit card, the agent informed her that, because the passenger (me) was originating in Nigeria, the airline will not accept a credit card over the phone. My mother calmly explained that she was an American citizen using an American credit card and that, given the great technological advances of our country, paying by credit card over the phone should not be a complicated affair. In turn, the agent calmly informed my mother that I would have to pay by credit card myself, in Nigeria, in person at the airline's airport location so that an airline agent could check my passport to ensure that I was the owner of the credit card. My mother informed the agent that I had expressed concern over my ability to use a credit card in Nigeria as it is a cash-based society and credit cards are not accepted anywhere. The agent informed my mother that "of course" the airline accepts credit cards, even in Nigeria... provided, of course, that I can produce identification that proves I am the credit card holder. ...

So, after finding a break in my work to make a secret escape, I paid the $50 (round-trip) cab fare to get to the airport to personally pay for the changes to my flight in-person with my personal identification and my personal credit card. When I got to the airport, there were 3 agents in the airline's office only 2 of whom were actually helping customers... none of whom were moving at a reasonably brisk pace. During the almost 45-minute wait, I watched the representatives tell 4 of the 6 customers in front of me that they would have to call the customer service number to get assistance solving their respective problems. I assumed they must have been making extremely complicated requests.

I was finally assisted by a representative who slowly looked up my flight information. It is worth mentioning that she never once, through this entire process, asked for any kind of identification. She slowly read all the notes in her computer system about my unique situation (apparently there were a lot) and then she slowly asked me what I needed. I told her I needed to pay for the changes to my flight.

"Of course." she said, re-reading the notes in the computer system "Leaving April 2nd (2 days from the current date)?"
"No" I replied. "As April 2nd is an election day, I'm afraid the roads will be closed and I'll miss my flight. I would like to leave Monday, April 11th."
"Oh I see." said the representative. "In that case, you will have to go home, call the airline customer service number and ask them to change the date of your flight in the computer system and then come back here to pay for it"
"But you have my file open on the computer in front of you. Can you just change it for me?" I asked, feeling panicked at the thought of having to call the airline customer service number from my Nigerian cell phone... and having to part with another $50 in cab fare to return to the airport.
"No, I can't." the agent replied without much feeling
"But why not?" I asked...panic setting in.
"I can't. You have to call the number"
"Please..." I begged "I just need you to change the date from April 2nd to April 11th."
"Just call the number." she replied. "They can help you there. Then you can come back and pay for the flight tomorrow. Or when you come to the airport you can pay the day of your departure"
"But I don't understand why you can't help me here. All I want to do is pay for my flight and get out of this country" I whimpered... and, without realizing it, I began to cry. I hardly ever cry... least of all in situations where one is required to be polite and maintain some form of professionalism or dignity. Shameful, I know but somehow it convinced her I wasn't a threat,
"Oh no! Please don't cry." she said handing me a tissue "Here... look... I'm looking up the new information right now. Yes, it looks like we have openings on the flight leaving on April 11th. Give me just a moment and I'll change it in the system."
5 minutes later, my flight had been changed from April 2nd to April 11th.
.... and then the representative turned to me and said "You can pay for the changes in your ticket now. However, we do not accept credit cards and you'll have to pay in cash. Luckily, you can pay in either Naira (Nigerian currency - current exchange rate = 156 Niara to 1 USD) or in US Dollars"
I laughed to myself as I thought about the "helpful" airline representative who had assured my mother that "of course" they accepted credit cards .... and then I stopped laughing when I had to pay the $838 fee to change my flight ... in USD.... Damn.

And, wouldn't you know it, the airline representative had the nerve to charge me a $50 "in-person service fee."

This country has a serious issue with customer service.

And I am counting the days until my happy departure.

***********

Democracy... Now?

It's been all over the news - at least its been all over BBC (which is just about the only news I get): Nigeria has managed to botch its elections. Well, maybe "botch" is too strong of a word.... perhaps "delay" is more appropriate since that's what is technically happening right now.

As I mentioned in an earlier blog, the first round of elections - the Legislative Election - was supposed to happen this past Saturday, April 2nd and, in order to prevent any election violence, the Nigerian government order a strict movement ban which required everyone to stay indoors unless they were going to cast their vote. However, around noon on Saturday, after half of the country had already showed up to the polls to exercise their democratic right, the election authority -INEC - realized that half of the polling stations didn't have enough ballots for all of the voters and quickly announced via radio and television that they were postponing elections until the following Monday (April 4th). The government, in turn, announced around 3pm that the movement ban had been lifted for Saturday but issued a new ban for Monday's anticipated election. For people without access to TV or radio, word of the failed attempt at Legislative Elections spread like wild fire through the modern communication marvel of text message. Of course, during this time, opposing political parties took the election delay as a great opportunity to accuse one another of rigging the election... despite the fact that the postponement is really an opportunity for INEC to make sure each Nigerian is actually able to cast their vote.

 In any case, Sunday afternoon rolled around and INEC realized that there was no way to furnish all of Nigeria's polling stations with ballots by Monday morning and so they yet again postponed the elections until the following Saturday (April 9th). Of course, this was the date originally reserved for the much-anticipated Presidential Election which now means that Nigerians will have to vote for their President the next Saturday - April 16th. As this was the date originally reserved for the Gubernatorial Elections, yet another postponement has been ordered and now the Gubernatorial Elections will take place on April 23rd.

This morning, INEC announced that, despite working frantically to distribute ballots to all the polling stations by Saturday, they are going to be unable to reach at least 13% of the electoral districts and thus, for those electoral districts, elections will be postponed yet again. No word yet on which specific districts will have to hold off on voting.... no word on when they might actually get to vote. (See BBC article) *Insert sad shake of the head here *

In the past week, Jega, the head of INEC, has been the butt of many a joke and in fact there have been several rude songs created using his name in rather unfortunate ways. To make matters worse, there has been a veritable storm of text messaging activity around Nigeria and many rumors have been started, perpetuated, and transmitted this way including the idea that elections will not take place at all this month and that INEC is actually working for Goodluck Jonathan and the PDP in order to rig the elections. The current governor of Lagos - Babatunde Fashola - released a statement begging Nigerians to stop texting "news" to one another without first confirming from "reliable news sources" that it is, in fact, news.

I must say that, despite what CNN might want you to believe back home, Nigeria, or at least Lagos has not "erupted in violence." I saw an article on-line that claimed, in so many words, that all of Lagos was "rioting" and I cannot express how false this is. There is no rioting. None. Perhaps there have been a few scuffles here and there but, for the most part, Nigerians aren't really angry about the delayed elections. In fact, I've seen many Nigerians get more heated about far less important things... like office keys, for example.

In discussing the flawed electoral system with Nigerians, it has been revealed that Nigerians must re-register to vote every single year. Furthermore, if Nigerians move (which happens a lot), apparently they aren't allowed to re-register for a voting district closer to their current location; they must instead travel back to the same place where they first registered to vote. Every single year - to register. Every single election - to vote. And when delays such as this happen, people become less and less enthusiastic about participating.

Given all of these issues, the word I would choose to describe the mood around Nigeria is "despondent." Nigerians have yet to have a decent election free from errors or corruption and, sadly, this time, despite efforts to the contrary, seems to be nothing new.

As an American, I can acknowledge that our own electoral system is less-than-perfect but, when compared to the Nigerian system, I am thankful that I live in a country where, as an individual, voting is as easy as (American) pie. I can comfortably vote in close proximity to where ever I currently live. I can register by mail, in person at the DMV, or at any number of government offices. I only have to re-register if I've changed addresses, names, or political parties. I can vote by walking into an air conditioned building, waiting in a short line, and pressing buttons on a fancy TV/ computer screen and then, once I'm finished, the computer will ask me at least twice if I'm absolutely certain of the choices I'm making. What a piece of cake (pie)! ... Especially considering that the alternative is, essentially, the polar opposite of everything I just said (wrote). And still, to the amazement of the world, only a mighty 30% of voting-age Americans bother to participate in their own democracy. *Insert even sadder shake of the head*

In closing, I'd like to leave you with a nifty little Nigerian election map that I borrowed (stole) from the BBC. Enjoy!

I'm On A Boat

A few weekends ago, Christine received an invitation on behalf of all four of us "Americans" to enjoy a Saturday afternoon "get-away" at the Lagos Yatch Club. Since none of us are really the "yatch club" type, we were a little reluctant to go but, when faced with the alternative of doing nothing all day at the apartment, we half-heartedly called a cab. Little did we know, "Lagos Yatch Club" is actually code for "private villa on an island in the Lagos Lagoon" ....

We showed up at the Yatch Club and looked around with disappointment; hardly any one was around and, those who were around didn't seem that engaged in anything. On the plus side, there was a bar and, with a bar, there is always the potential to drink some excitement into any given situation. Our host arrived in a white polo shirt, white shorts and boat shoes and said "Lets go for a ride on my boat." We got into his boat - a speedboat, mind you - and prepared ourselves for a short jaunt around the bay. Hence my surprise when the boat sped past the bay, past the cargo ships, and into the lagoon where small fishing villages and palm trees took turns hugging the water. I thought maybe we were being taken on a silent tour of Lagos water ways...

Lagos Island from the water

A speed boat rushes past a fishing village

A random pier in the middle of nowhere

In true African style, a full family can fit on an ATV

A kind little cooler courier - working on the weekends to pay his school
fees. 

And then the boat stopped, at a random pier in the middle of no where. We got off the boat and followed the children down a well-worn dirt path through the palm trees. I asked them where we were going and they pointed into the trees - and, seeing nothing but trees, I assumed we were visiting a bar-b-que pit for a hidden beach picnic. And then, just like that, the trees parted and there was a row of private, thatched beach villas.

Beyond the pool, the Atlantic Ocean

A small piece of thatched paradise

Children playing near an abandoned fishing boat
(If you're wondering what those clear-ish-white spots are on the ground...
those would be plastic bottles that have washed up on the beach)

Looking over fences to the shipwreck in the distance

At the kind expense of our host, we enjoyed a traditional Nigerian lunch of jolof rice and snails accompanied by several bottles of French Champagne while we listened to some R&B rap music. It was such a wonderful change from Lagos: peaceful and quiet, no traffic, fresh, cool air....a pool.... and we felt totally relaxed.

Then, half an hour later, the party arrived on an ATV from a neighboring villa. ... And that's when we got to see another side of Nigerian culture: how marriages really work among the too-rich-and-almost-famous.

Lucky for us, we had to be home before sundown.

Fishing with the cargo ships at sun set

Another sinking ship... I see a trend

Cargo ships in the setting sun

A souvenir from the occasion... (click here) 

Political Posters - With a Side of Information

It's election season in Nigeria and, as political candidates rush to assure voters of their promise and potential, I've enjoyed taking pictures of the many campaign posters and billboards all around town. However, in order to understand the pictures I've been taking, I've also been asking questions, listening to informal political discussions, and doing my own minor research on the current Nigerian political race. Here's what I've found so far:

1. Babatunde Raji Fashola - also known as "BRF" - is the current Governor of Lagos State and is running for re-election. Unlike a lot of the politicians in Nigeria, Fashola is beloved by the people as he has actually made good on many of the promises from his first campaign. He's actively working to improve the local transportation networks through both extensive road repairs and the construction of a new light rail system. He is also credited with launching a new line of big red (and blue) buses with specially dedicated lanes and, even though these are official called "Lagbus"es, everyone I've talked to calls them the "BRF Buses." Not surprisingly, Fashola uses the sides of these buses as prime real estate for his re election campaign posters.

Fun Fact: the Nigerian name "Babatunde" means "his father has died" and is given to children whose father dies while his mother is still pregnant. Looking around at the campaign posters, I've actually been quite surprised at just how many "Babatunde"s are in politics.

A BRF Bus with a BRF Poster

When we first arrived in Lagos, walls looked like this....

2. Because many Nigerians don't own a TV, the majority of political campaigning seems to be done by print either in the newspaper or through billboards and posters. Funnily enough, the politicians alternate between posters where they're pictured in "traditional" dress and posters where they appear in a western-style suit and tie. Although it isn't zoomed in, the picture at the left is a pretty good representation of this need to appear as both modern (read: westernized) and traditional (read: Nigerian).
  



2 (b). There doesn't really seem to be a strategy to the way in which posters are pasted around town other than sheer volume. The picture below shows no less than 14 identical posters of Governor Fashola side-by-side. I'm not entirely sure if this is a proven strategy... perhaps it appeals to the sub-conscious.



.... Now, days before the election, walls in Lagos look like this.




Endless Fashola... under an overpass

3.   Nigeria is a relatively new democracy and this upcoming election will be third election held since the last military regime was over thrown in 1999. The current "ruling party" (for want of a better term) is the PDP (People's Democratic Party) which is represented by the symbol of a red, green, and white umbrella. (Yes, an umbrella. ... Like donkeys and elephants are really any better). According to some of the Nigerians I've spoken to, the PDP rigged the last election and, as such, many are suspicious they'll do the same again. It is worth noting that the current President Goodluck Jonathan belongs to the PDP although he wasn't exactly elected as he became President when the former, elected President Umaru Yar'adua died last year.

The other main political party in Nigeria is the ACN (Action Congress of Nigeria) and their symbol is a hand holding onto a traditional Nigerian broom (which, to most Americans, probably looks like a pile of twigs) - once you know what it is, its not hard to imagine that this symbolizes "cleaning up" the Nigerian political system.


An ACN banner flying from an electricity pole



Govenor Fashola is an ACN candidate and is, by far, the most prominent (and popular) person on the party's ticket. It is my sense (although I'm not entirely sure) that many of the other ACN candidates will be riding on Fashola's popularity to try and secure a majority in the National Assembly. The ACN candidate for President - Mr. Nuhu Ribadu - is the former govenor of Sokoto State (near the national capital - Abuja) and is well-known for his participation in anti-corruption efforts in Nigeria. Although he seems to be well-supported by many of Nigeria's youth (especially the one's with some education behind them), I don't think he has enough wide-spread popularity to out-shine Goodluck Jonathan. In fact, for all the whispers about his political party, Goodluck seems like a tough man to beat.

Although there are many political parties in Nigeria, the PDP and ACN seem to take up the majority of political discourse with one exception: Muhammadu Buhari.

4. Running on the CPC (Conscious People's Congress) party ticket, Muhammadu Buhari wants to be President of Nigeria. For those of you who are perhaps not very well-versed in Nigerian history, allow me to explain why this is strange. Buhari has been a politics a long time - under the oppresive military regime of Obasanjo in the mid 1970's he was a "minister," after a coup he became head of the armed forces and then, after yet another coup, he became President ("Head of State") during his very own oppressive, corrupt military regime in the mid 1980's. As if Nigerians could forget all of this and be persuaded to elect him democratically, Buhari ran for President in 2003. However, his platform was that of "extreme, radical Islam" and, if elected, he promised to ensure that Nigeria became an official "Arab State." As you can imagine, in a country where 50% of the population is not Muslim, this didn't go over well and, thankfully, he was not elected.

This time around, Buhari is taking a slightly more balanced approach. Although he is still clinging strongly to his Islamic ideals, he has picked a running mate - Tunde Bukare- who is Christian. Bravo. The hiccup comes, however, when it is discovered that Bukare is himself an extremely controversial Pentecostal minister who often appears on television and says strange things. And, of course, I suppose we shouldn't consider it odd that, although Bukare is part of a presidential race in Nigeria, he lives in a multi-million dollar estate in Atlanta, Georgia.



Maybe I'm imagining things, but I think Buhari actually
looks as crazy as he sounds.



Buhari Poster on a rusted shack in Agege

5. In order to avoid the unrest and violence that so often seems to mar elections on this side of the world, there is a fairly strict law in effect that bans the use or operation of any transportation systems between the hours of 8 am and 5 pm on election days. Luckily, Nigerians should be registered to vote at a polling station within walking distance of their homes so this (hopefully) won't effect voter turnout. It will, however, effect our ability to leave our apartment and for the next 2 Saturdays - April 2nd (National Assembly Elections) and April 9th (Presidential Elections) - we will sadly be trapped in our little apartment in the middle of the Nigerian semi-ghetto. Still, it has been interesting to see democracy in action in a country where democracy is still a fairly new idea.

I have been told by multiple Nigerians that I have nothing to worry about and that elections will come and go without violence. However, these same Nigerians have also told me that its "probably better to stay inside all weekend just to be safe." Although I am not personally worried about my safety, I am worried about my mental sanity if I have to spend 2 entire weekends trapped inside the four walls of an apartment with limited electricity, no kerosene (with which to cook), and a small selection of frustrated Americans.

Lets hope, for everyone's sake, that the election passes without incident, that Nigerians are given a free and fair election, and that I'll get to leave the apartment at least once this weekend.

Number 4

Yesterday, the "girls"and I decided to take the afternoon and do something totally unrelated to Nigeria or Small Business Development (in emerging markets) and so we went to the large mall / cineplex in Victoria Island - the posh side of Lagos - and, for a grand total of $5.00, took in a c-rated American movie

Of course, I'll be one of the first to admit that there have been few good movies out in theatres lately but this particular gem - "I Am Number 4" - was especially feeble. Just in case any of you are still keen on seeing it, I'll spare you the details. However, I will say that this "cinematic masterpiece" is about a handsome American teenager who is really an alien warrior sent from another planet to save the earth from destruction by an especially ugly group of other aliens called "Morgs." Along the way, he saves a nerd from a school bully and falls in-love with an "artsy" girl who is really just another cheerleader. And, of course, he saves the world without disturbing his chiseled, out-of-a-catalogue good looks.

Um... yeah. Like I said, c-rated. At best.

But, despite the poor quality of the story-line and the laughable acting, seeing "I Am Number 4" certainly provided an important and necessary distraction from the small (and sometimes large) frustrations of day-to-day life in a country and culture that aren't ours.

One line from the movie's exceptionally cheesy dialogue that I not-so-secretly liked was as follows:

"A place is only as good as the people you know in it."

And I found it to be very fitting. Lagos, for all its pollution and traffic and corruption really isn't as bad as people make it out to be... and I believe this to be true because at the heart of this city, there are still a few decent people who have treated me well and who will not be forgotten.

In any case, something as simple as seeing a movie, even a bad movie, was enough to refresh our spirits and brace us for the week ahead which will, somewhat-unfortunately, include elections. Here's hoping the Nigerian people are allowed fair and equal opportunity to participate in their country's elections ... here's hoping that this alone will be enough to avoid violence in the days to come.

Wish us luck.

Can You Imagine?

Another strange Nigerian conversational "ism" : "Can you imagine?"

For example:
We're stuck in traffic and another crazy mini-bus driver cuts us off. (This is daily occurance). At this point a Nigerian in the car will undoubtedly gesture to the offending mini-bus and say:
"Can you imagine?"
And I feel like saying "Yes, yes I can imagine...because it just happened....just like it does every single day."
But instead I say nothing.

Another example:
We're at work for 5 hours and the power is off, thus preventing everyone from doing their jobs while simultansously encouraging everyone to sit around and talk about how the lights are all off. As I'm sitting reading a book, waiting for the power to come back on, a Nigerian sits down next to me and says:
"Sorry, the power is off"
And I say "Its ok. That's how it is."
To which the Nigerian replies "Can you imagine?" (in reference to the lights being off)
And I want to say "Uh... yes. I can, in fact, imagine because this happens every single day in Lagos."
But instead I say nothing.

............................................


And, like Forest Gump, "that's just about all I gots to say about that."

A Sea of Yellow

This post is dedicated to my father who is always interested in mechanical things and, thus, always asking me about how I'm "getting around." For the rest of you, discussing the many modes of transportation in Lagos may not seem that interesting at first but, trust me, this is not your average Western time-tables-and-organized-bus-stops kind of a situation.

During the week, I am ferried from home to my part-time "job" or the office in a Mercedes Benz. It sounds fancy, I know, but consider first that this particular vehicle, circa 1980-something, is falling apart due to the general abuses of Nigerian roads and drivers. As I have mentioned before, the A/C unit is broken and thus, when driving about in 90 degree + heat, we use "Nigerian A/C" which involves rolling all the windows down for a chance at a partially-fresh-mostly-polluted gust of warm air coming into the car. Beyond this, which some might consider little more than a personal comfort issue, the car seems to intensely dislike running at 5- 10 mph consistently for more than an hour and so, during the inevitable traffic jams either to or from work, it stalls out at least a handful of times and has to be switched off and restarted a few times before the engine catches and we can move forward again. Finally, our car is a rather hideous shade of maroon-ish purple and I am convinced that this in combination with the generally poor driving practices of most mainland- Nigerians makes us a target. We've be scraped and bumped by several other cars and motorcycles and, earlier this week, a passing motorcycle knocked the driver's side mirror clean off the side of the car without so much as an '"I'm sorry, my bad" courtesy wave.

On the weekends, this de-luxe vehicle is "off-limits" and so it is up to us to suffer through calling an air-conditioned cab with a polite driver who will take us wherever we want to go. Of course, unlike riding in the maroon Mercedes, we actually have to pay for the cab but, for roughly $7 per person, the hour and 1/2 ride to Victoria Island (and every luxury we could think of) is pretty darn affordable. Of course... in Lagos there are different kinds of cabs. We prefer the slightly-more-expensive-yet-considerably-more-comfortable-and-safe Red Cabs which are regulated by the government and thus less likely to have drivers who drive like morons (a surprisingly common occurrence in Lagos in general) or kidnap us.

The other alternative in the cab world are the Yellow Cabs. Here again there are subtle yet important differences - Yellow Cabs with a multi-colored stripe over the top of their hood and roof tend to be better maintained than their stripe-less counterparts and, even though they're cheaper than the Red Cabs,  they're still somewhat safer than the "other" Yellow Cabs. The other Yellow Cabs are about on par with if not worse than our maroon Mercedes and all seem to be in various stages of falling apart and, indeed, many of them frequently seem to lose parts or break down in the middle of traffic. Coupled with the frightening fact that many of these "other" Yellow Cab drivers are aggressive in both their driving and their treatment of their passengers, I try to avoid taking these at all costs.

Although I certainly prefer the "car" variety of transportation, most Nigerians operate on a tighter budget and are therefore left with other, more cost effective modes of transportation.

The first and what I assume most luxurious way to travel around Lagos on a budget is on one of the Big Red/ Blue Buses which are, again, government regulated an thus fairly well maintained. They even have their own special lane on the highway so that, during busy traffic times (any time between 5 am and midnight), they can move along at a reasonable pace. Of course, many other people try to take advantage of these special lanes (especially on the bridges between the mainland and the Island) and so sometimes this isn't always as effective as it could be. In fact, in order to attempt to put an end to this lane stealing, the government has installed small lane walls on some sections of the freeway.




A Blue Bus utilizing its special, walled lane



After the big blue and red buses, the next cheapest transport option is, most likely, the small yellow mini-buses which we used to call "bush taxis" in Niger. Although the ones here in Nigeria are, for the most part, in slightly better condition than the ones North of the border, they are driven so aggressively that one might assume that the drivers either have a death wish or believe themselves to be invincible. Although clearly an unsafe choice for someone unaccustomed to this style of driving, these mini-buses are a fairly popular transportation option with Nigerians and often times the road is taken up by an agitated herd of these mini buses jostling with a few yellow taxis for control.

A single yellow mini-bus in a long line of other yellow mini buses

Of course, of those people wishing to travel in a more individualized manner, there are plenty of tuk-tuks to be found. Nigerians call these "Napep"s and they have yellow ones - which can legally seat up to three (plus the driver), or green ones - which can legally seat up to four (plus the driver). As the yellow ones clearly outnumber the green ones, it is not altogether un-common to see a poor little tuk-tuk filled to the brim with people, produce, and animals (yes, I once saw someone bring a live chicken into one of these tiny little machines). Due to issues of power (and, I think, general comfort) it is my understanding that the Nigerian tuk-tuk is best suited to short distances when you have more friends with you than a motorcycle can reasonably accommodate.

A Nigerian tuk-tuk parked by an open Nigerian sewer

And, of course, one cannot talk about transportation in Nigeria without mentioning motorcycles. In fact, someone told me the other day that motorcycles out number cars... and to drive the streets of Lagos, this doesn't surprise me at all. In Niger, we called them "Kabo- Kabos," in Nigeria they're called "Okadas" and, in any language, motorcycle taxis should be known as an absolutely insane way to travel anywhere. They constantly cut through traffic, between cars, between oil tankers, between each other and each Okada driver seems more intent than the rest on getting himself to his destination in the fastest possible time regardless of whether or not his passenger arrives alive. In fact, of the multiple accidents I've seen since being here, well over half have involved an Okada. One of my Nigerian co-workers told me that she would never ride an Okada herself unless she was certain she was about to miss a flight or a very important meeting. She claims their erratic driving is the result of gasoline as, she claims, groups of Okada drivers will do "shots of petrol" to prove their manliness to one another. She says that, if I absolutely MUST take an Okada, then I should choose one driven by an old man reasoning that an old man is likely to have children and, since he will likely want to see these children grow up, he is less likely to drive like a man high on gasoline. Although it may sound like quite a feat to find one such man, okada drivers tend to hang out in clusters on street corners or in high-traffic areas and in each group of young-and-crazy okada drivers, there is always at least one older man sitting slightly to the side and waiting patiently for his next sensible, safety conscious passenger to come along.

A group of okada bikes resting between death rides.

Of course, the Nigerian government realizes that okadas, although cheap and therefore popular, are notoriously unsafe and, in order to try and fix their "machine of death" image, they have passed laws requiring both okada drivers and passengers to wear helmets for the entire okada journey. However, this law is only loosely followed in most cases. Some people choose not to fasten the helmet chin strap fear it to be dirty (it probably is), some people (especially women) don't want it to mess up their hair and so, rather than wear it on their heads, they hold it over their hair like a helmet-shaped umbrella, and, of course, some people don't wear the helmet at all. This is perhaps a great idea of a well-intentioned law failing to accomplish anything at all. .... well, except for maybe the sale of helmets.



Safety first! Always wear a helmet when driving
 against the flow of rush hour traffic




Yes, in the highly likely event of a crash, the back of the bike will be well
protected. Sadly, we can't say the same for your skull.

 Aside from the wide range of street-based transportation options, Lagos also offers railway travel. Unfortunately, with only one line (straight from the outermost suburbs in the North to the heart of the city in the South), traveling by train isn't taken quite as seriously here as it is elsewhere in the world. Still, prices are affordable (or so I've heard) and, if you're lucky enough to live close to (or, in our case, right next to) the rail line, a cool ride on the top of a gently chugging locomotive beats the heck out of sitting in a 2 hour Lagos traffic jam.



Although not to the same scale, Nigerians seem to enjoy
train travel in the Indian Style.

 In talking about transportation in Lagos... in fact, when discussing anything to do with Lagos at all...one cannot give enough emphasis to how absolutely outrageous traffic is here. And, as the population is expected to grow exponentially in the coming years, it is only going to get worse. However, I have to give credit where credit is due: the current governor of Lagos, Babtunde Raji Fashola has been busy as work designing and trying to put into effect an improved transportation system which includes expending the current 4-lane highway to a 10-lane highway as well as the construction of several new above-ground rail lines - the first of which seem to be constructed to run East-West... which is a start. I admire the intentions behind the project and think that, if carried off successfully, it will make a world of difference in how the people of Lagos do business and structure their lives. Of course, there's the minor issue of finding the space in which to construct something as large as a 10-lane highway .... but never mind.

In the mean time, while Lagosians are waiting to be saved from their traffic nightmare, visitors and residents can expect to be greeted by okadas, nepeps, minibuses, taxis and buses... all merging together in a Nigerian sea of yellow, honking smog.



A Lagos side street