the Nigerian Ghoul in an American Forest
Browsing the archives for the Soliloquy category.
1. The Kaduna Mosque
2. Hassan Katsina House
3. A road scene
4. The Emir of Zazzau’s palace in Kaduna, opposite the Kaduna Museum.
5. A street scene.
6. An antique shop.
7. The railway bridge over Kaduna river.
8. Hamdala Hotel
9. Stadium roundabout
10. The State House of Assembly, reputed to be where Lord Lugard lived while he was in the Northern Nigeria.
By the time you read this, I should be on the road. It is a scheduled post. I do not know which way the road might lead, but it is surely not southwards just yet, except maybe they’ve removed that narcissistic governor of ours with several skin colours from the Government house, and then there would be something to rejoice about.
Now here are the choices: Abuja (again), Kano, Sokoto (the seat of the Caliphate), Katsina (where the Christmas bomber hails from), Jos (again, where I had my national youth service, and where the Red Cross had been working with the victims of the January and March clashes), and Nassarawa (where a friend had invited me to come and spend a few days).
None of this destinations is in the Eastern or Southern parts of the country. That trip will have to come later. And definitely not in these days of journalists getting kidnapped for a ransom of up to 30 million naira. And not the Niger Delta area soon either. I may not look like an American, but who knows what a random search of my bag might show.
In any case, I’m on the last leg of my tour and home is calling me little by little. I hope my dogs won’t be disappointed that I left them for so long. I have had my fill of Nigeria, almost. One of the best places of interest in this trip was the Anglican Church at Wusasa, a very prominent place in the history of Northern Nigeria.
The only thing my mother says she is worried about is that I (must have) been wearing “the same shirt all over Nigeria.” Sorry mum, I’ll soon be home. Some mothers do really have us.
From the dusty roads of Ibadan to Ife, and later to Akure, Akungba, Ikare and Ilorin, and then Kabba, Abuja, Kaduna and finally Zaria, my pair of black denim(?) jeans has literally seen it all, the good, the bad, and the downright uuuuugly. This is no joke. Through rain, mud, lawns, beer spills, dokunu which Peter made me eat, Chiedu’s ogbono soup, and suya spices from Hamdala Hotel, tonight, it will fairly contest as the dirtiest fabric south of the sahara.
On the other hand, my intermittent internet access has taken all the fun out of spontaneous blogging at historical or memorable sites. While sitting peacefully in front of the open bus park at Jabi in Abuja yesterday, I all but screamed at how much stress it was and no stable enough internet connection to put up a post. Unfortunately, three hours later, a new reality had replaced my latest impressions and I moved on.
Alright, I did changed my shirts many times along the way. I even managed to buy a few more hausa-type fabrics, and a fulani-made leather wallet in Kaduna for my American friend Chris. The problem however, like the fabled cripple, is not up but down. Shirts and tops well scented like fresh dew and a dirty black jeans with all the country grime from Ibadan to Wusasa just does not make a good combination. I am having sleepless nights. I know what you’re thinking: why not take everything off at night, wash them, sleep naked and hope that by morning there would be electricity to make them dry if the rain wouldn’t allow? Ah-ha, ask Wande Coal how that usually ends.
Lesson learnt, next time never ever leave the house again on impulse. Sit down and plan for it. That way, you would hold at least two pairs of jeans so you can change them at will. And wasn’t it Ife that you told them at home that you were going? Now here you are just returned with her from one of the oldest monuments to Christianity in Northern Nigeria. You could get an article or more or out of that, you know. Yes, na article we go chop? And what will you do with this jeans in the absence of another to change it with yet? Buy? Yes yes, I know. Just shut up and go to bed. But it’s raining outside? So what? Get your grimy self up and find your way home.
Picture is that of Zuma Rock at Suleja on the way from Abuja.
This is a scheduled post as I am not online at the moment. Please refer to the previous post.
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Here are twenty-two posts, two randomly selected from each of the last preceding months. They are not my favourites, but they are some of the most memorable for the months. It took me valuable time deciding on which two make the cut this time since I had about forty-six to choose from. There are so many of them that I loved but had to leave behind. Enjoy these, and if you can, please leave comments on them. Happy Fourth of July to readers in the United States.
Travelling June 9.
A Case for Blogging June 5
Time Lapse May 3
Eighteen Bottles May 21
Literally Disengaging April 11
A Different Kind of Hoe April 20
Sauce for the Gander March 21
Tuesday March 16
Mardi Gras, St. Louis February 14
An American in England February 25
iSkits January 28
Just Like Old Times January 11
I Was Very Close December 9
On That Nigerian Guy December 27
A Soup and a Yam November 25
Thinking Back November 1
Pumpkin October 12
It’s Global Warming, Stupid October 12
Hollow Friday September 13
The Second Class September 3
Discovering Scott Joplin August 26
Mosquito August 15
#Fact. The month of July is named after Julius Caesar who was born in the month, and who gave the world the calendar we use today.
Gone With the Wind and Glory are two sides of the same coin in the civil war history of the United States. Well, not really. One of them is a story that glorified slavery in some way, or at best treated it like just another part of life. The other was a feature on a real life event of an attempt to resolve the institution of slavery among other political differences in the country.
Gone with the Wind is a beautiful story of love, gallantry, bravery and honour. Bella loved Rhett, but Rhett loved Scarlett. Scarlett however loved Ashley, and Ashley loved his wife. Scarlett never got over her love until it was too late. A very moving ending to a story that spanned the period of the American civil war.
Glory is a moving story of honour, bravery, pride and a tragic military campaign of the first “coloured” regiment of the Union army in an attempt to take over the confederate Fort Wagner. Brilliantly told, the true life story never failed to rouse emotion at very memorable intervals. And Denzel Washington won his Academy Award as a supporting actor.
I can’t explain why I have been watching movies about the American Civil War in the past days, but I can say that it’s been worth it. It is filling a few gaps in my history lesson. And it raises a few questions too, why it was important to black men to enlist in the Union army to fight the confederates when all they would get was death, or at best a chance to kill. And how those capable of keeping slaves in servitude and fighting to entrench the evil system could be capable of gallantry, honour and love. Gone With The Wind manages to elicit my empathy for the Old South, and Glory managed to arouse my anger at slavery, war, and inequality. And all I learnt at the end of watching them both is the power of stories.
“We real cool…/we jazz June” – Gwendolyn Brooks
The month is over, almost so. “Thirty days have September, April, June and November…” Now we’re about to enter the second half of the year. Wasn’t it just yesterday when the new year sneaked in without warning? Before we know it, the year’s over again. How did you enjoy the month? Is the World Cup living up to its expectation of excitement?
June here was full of rains and humid heat. July will be more of that. You know that kind of rain that just never stops? Drizzles and little showers from morning till evening? Yes, that’s the kind July is known for here. Urban legends have it that the rain is due to the Osun Osogbo celebrations in Osogbo during the month. How true is that?
Here’s a thought: how would you like a book made out of this blog? Do you like it enough to want to gift out a book made out of a collection of some of the favourite past posts/poems/thoughts on the blog? Is it worth it or is it a waste of time. Do people still read? Can you at the moment think of people you’d like to amuse with some of the thoughts that have made you smile here in a book? There is a new poll to your right. I’d like to know what you think.
July promises to be a fun month for many reasons. And the beat of life goes on. Regards everyone.
Anwuli Ojogwu has asked me if this blog will remain a travelogue “now that you’re back.”
It is a question the answer to which I’ve resolved since a few weeks before I got on the plane heading back home. Yes, the blog is tagged “a travelogue”, and yes, so it will remain, and the contents will remain what they’ve always been: my observations on the world around me wherever I go. It has never really been strictly about travelling anyway, but about my interests, views, observations, progress, ups and downs, friends, and the way my life seems mixed up in the American (and world) experience warts and all. It will remain so.
In this spirit of the beautiful game, check out this World Cup of Fiction.
Alton, IL
