Browsing the archives for the adventures category.

South to North Notes

The railway track from Lagos reaches Ibadan, Abeokuta and then head up north towards Zaria, Jos and Maiduguri, and the very first proposals on this trip was to have gone via railway. How nice that could have been, except that it would have taken days if not weeks to commute between even almost neighbouring towns. At least, it could have been a good chance to see more of the countryside as one ascends up the country.

So here I am in Ilorin, a sorta border town between the North and the South. But don’t take my word for it. Most residents of this town know for sure that politically and geographically, Ilorin belongs to the North. There is a very long and bloody history behind this conclusion. Don’t ask me. One thing for sure is that everyone here speaks Yoruba, and perhaps Hausa as well, among other languages. The state’s motto is “The Land of Harmony”, perhaps a play on the diversity it embodies.

The towns of Ekiti that lay in-between the journey from Ile-Ife to Ilorin are interspersed between rocks and hills. It is also a land of diverse tongues. The Akoko area of Ondo and Ekiti States is one of the most linguistically diverse places in Nigeria. Many of the languages there are endangered or under some sort of threat from globalization, and the influence of Yoruba, thus the influx of linguists from all over the world to study and document those languages. I have worked with at least three of such linguists, doing fieldworks in villages in the Akoko Area, some from the School of Oriental and African Studies, in the UK, and a few from SIUE itself. Has anyone heard of a language called Ayere or Uwu?

So, Kaduna is the ideal next stop, and it is six hours away from here by car. That is not the problem however. The problem is where I intend to sleep when I get there. This, of course, could also be the most exciting part of the trip. Now imagine me in jeans and a ktravula t-shirt, with a backpack and dark specs walking up to the gate of the government house and requesting to meet with the Governor in person. “Yes sir. I am a Nigerian Fulbrighter from the United States on a short trip around my country. I need a place to lay my head just for a few days while I check out your state and I have come to you, being the chief executive of the state. I’m all yours. What say you?”

Now, that would be an adventure.

Ilorin

I’m in the University town of Ilorin, having the time of my life in the midst of old friends that I last saw in Ibadan years ago. Right now, we are watching the Uruguay-Germany game at a bar. Paul the German Octopus has predicted that Germany would win, but right now, Uruguay is leading with two goals to one. I wonder how this would end. Something tells me that we might see an Octopus peppersoup dish by this time tomorrow.

I have been to the University of Ilorin. I went there today for the very first time. We tried to see the dam which was not far from the gate but we were turned back by the security folks who said they were acting on instructions of the Vice-Chancellor. Why five young men might be a threat to a University dam is still beyond my comprehension, but I was able to at least get some shots. The University is a nice place. Far more beautiful than the Adekunle Ajasin University at Akungba Akoko. But I had a very nice time in the house of the Dean of the Faculty of Arts of the AAU. He has a nice family too.

I have left the German and Taiwanese linguists from SOAS behind in Ikare where we last parted. They will be proceeding to a village called Ikakumo, and later Ayere later in the week. I on the other hand will move on towards Kaduna, and wherever else until I get broke, bored or disinterested. Right now, everything is going well. I’ve had moin-moin, ponmo and some drinks. And right as I’m typing this, Germany has equalized, and the scores is 2-2.

I’d better get back to watching the game before I miss all the action. Of course, there are many photos to share. Greetings from the Nigerian countryside. How have you been?

Morning in Ife

I’m on a quasi-field trip around some rural cities in Nigeria along with two linguists from the School of Oriental and African Studies in London. I have been out of internet access for a few days now and might be for a little while more. I will do all I can to keep updating this blog as often as I can, but I can’t promise that it will be every day. I do have my own internet connection but this trip is proving to be a new adventure in discovering just how much “national coverage” the so-called internet service providers have.

I’ve been in Ife for a few days now, and I will be in Akungba tomorrow. I’m heading northwards and northwards until I reach whoknowswhere ;), or I get tired and decide to head back. Thanks to all who asked after me, and those who never left the blog even for one day. This is heart-warming. Greetings from Ife, the acclaimed source of the Yoruba nation. See you around.

Picture of Opa Oranmiyan, taken yesterday

Nomads

These girls can be found all over West Africa, sometimes with little children on their backs. They live on the move, and make a living by begging for money. At the corner of streets you can find their fathers and sometimes husbands, silent and with turbaned heads. The men don’t usually beg, and I doubt that people give them money. The women do however, old and young, without shame. They are multilingual, speaking Hausa, sometimes French, Arabic, and the language of the city in which they live. Most people actually give them money not because of their state but because of their language dexterity. They are not poor, nor diseased. Their conditions are even beyond just being lazy. They are conditioned by a nomadic culture into a life of hedonism. They are nomads.

This girl’s name is Aisha. She’s from Niger, the country on Nigeria’s border to the North. The other girls are her sisters, and all they do is beg for money from travellers. They do so with dignity. They are cheerful and friendly. And tough. No school. No work. Just begging, and sometimes occasional “unwanted” pregnancies. They live tough street lives and are thus exposed to much abuse.

Destination Edwardsville

Once upon a time in a distant land, I packed my bags, said goodbye to my folks and decided that I was going to be away for a few months on a Fulbright programme. It became one of the most interesting decisions of my adult life. I saw the world on my own terms. I fell in love, and wrote poems, and challenged authorities, and danced, and travelled, and did all the things that I wanted to. Most of it. It was a most memorable experience. The theme song of my trip must be either Frank Sinatra’s My Way or Whitney Houston’s One Moment in Time.

In a few weeks time, I’m heading back to Edwardsville for something else, perhaps for a longer time. A true story. I guess the countdown should already begin by now. This time, it is definitely going to be a different experience, don’t you think?