Ese Oruru: The Law vs. Religion

In March, social media woke up to a really startling story: a young girl, a 13-year-old child that had been kidnapped from Bayelsa, taken to Kano state, rechristened Aisha in an apparent conversion to Islam, and married off to a young man. The girl? Ese Oruru. The man? Yunusa Dahiru, aka Yellow.

The contradictory reports in the media were as frustrating as they were ridiculous. First, it was said that she was eighteen, despite her family’s cries to the press to the contrary. Then the poor child was demonized, something about her dating the man, writing him love letters, and being in love with him, like the word of a child on those matters should be acknowledged. Then it was back to the arguments about her age again, and how she was 14 years old and not 13. On and on and on, splashing her face in the papers, in the hearts and minds of Nigerians that choose, very conveniently what to forget, and what to remember and stigmatize others by.

Interestingly, while this was going on, a number of other parents cried out about their teenage daughters getting abducted, married off and raped. Yes, rape because that is what this is. Non-consensual intercourse is rape, compounded in these cases by abduction, and of minors.

Back to Ese Oruru, we were confused with the back and forth that freeing the girl and returning her to her parents threw up. A lot of conversation between her not getting released till HRH, Sanusi Lamido Sanusi gave instructions to that effect because she was in his custody, the Royal’s swift denial, convoluted messaging from the police, on and on.

Amidst hashtags, commentary in the press and extreme pressure on the consciences and sensibilities of people involved in the matter, Ese Oruru was finally returned to her parents in Bayelsa in March 2016; seven months after her abduction, and recently gave birth to a baby girl. A baby birthing a baby, rife with the risk of VVF, and the total disruption of her life as we know it.

Yunusa Dahiru was charged to court too, a five-court charge of criminal abduction, inducing by the use of deception and coercion, illicit sex, sexual exploitation and unlawful carnal knowledge of a minor.

We woke up to reports on the 11^th of July that Yunusa, with expensive legal representation, has been released on bail and whisked back to Kano. The news story was garnished with a photo of this abductor and rapist at the airport. The end, literally.

Some responses came back on how long it took for the alleged abduction and rapist to get bail, the constitution and laws being the problem, rape being a bailable offence, the quality of our laws and the attendant handicap of the judiciary etc.

There were also less sane responses about Ese’s case not being a peculiarity because underage girls get abducted and raped daily, it took three months to secure bail, and then of course the ultimate expressions of ignorance couched as insults or the representation of the matter based on ethnic sentiments.

Both sets of responses ignore the fact that we’re talking about a child. Both sets of responses ignore the fact this case already stinks to high heaven. They ignore the fact that by not speedily prosecuting this case, securing a watertight conviction, and dispensing punishment that is a deterrent to potential offenders, we have lost yet another opportunity to protect our children. We keep failing them.

I have written about child molestation, rape and other crimes against minors before, taking time to narrate not just the horrors the children have faced, but the helplessness the parent feel, and the stark failures of our systems to mete justice.

We have a Child Right Acts that took 12 years (1991 – 2003 after Nigeria signed the convention on the Rights of the child with UNICEF support) to go through the National Assembly, and more than 10 years after that, only 24 states have passed and given gubernatorial assent to the law in their states. That means that our children, the most vulnerable in our society, left unprotected and we do not feel any sense of urgency. Implementation aside, it means that the appropriate legal framework for the protection of the rights of our little ones is still a pipe dream. There is no urgency from the Judiciary or the Legislature whose job is it to empower the courts.

Unfortunately, this sad story probably ends here, and this statement is based entirely on precedent. No rehabilitation for Ese, no clear deterrents for the society because we don’t protect our children. No justice because we have a National Assembly that is filled with self-serving paedophiles who do not agree that people under 18 are children and so will scuttle privately and in public any plans to protect them. A National Assembly with officials who will uphold anything other than the laws they were elected to (and swore to) protect.

While Gambia and Tanzania ban child marriages, Ghana considers raising the age for marriage for girls from 18 to 23; we have popular commentary in Nigeria that posits that child marriage is the preferable, dignified and honourable alternative to child prostitution. The Giant of Africa lagging behind where it matters the most.

We can do better. We must do better. This 8^th National Assembly has the opportunity to write its name in the annals of history, and we hope they take it.

First published on Premium Times, and on Future Challenges.

#Roadtrip (somehow): The journey from Abuja to Umuahia via Port Harcourt

Ahh! I’ve missed blogging! Like, I love the #31Days31Writers series (really, really love it), but the entire month I feel like everything I publish that’s not a part of the series detracts from it.

But, I feel like I need to share details of this trip, and I’ll catch up on my trip to Rwanda earlier in the New Year. Ready?

So, Monday night was amazing (and that’s all I’m going to say about that), and somehow, my night wound up about 1am with me buying an Aero Contractors ticket headed to Port Harcourt that same morning. By 7.15am (I know, I’m crazy, but there’s a thing about friendship that will make me turn my plans on their head to be there for someone).

Of course seeing as the decision to fly was taken a few hours before while I was out with my nephew (gorgeous, adorable kiddo), I was unpacked, no idea what I even wanted to take on the trip, and cashless. Cashless because of my nephew actually; we’d gone to Silverbird Entertainment Center’s arcade. The End. One game after the other, till my purse emptied! And the ATM’s weren’t dispensing (of course, SMH). But it was a wonderful evening out, and Boo Boo was so happy with this wings and magic wand (which I didn’t plan to buy, but bought, lol)!

Back to me in my room, smiling like a Cheshire cat (for reasons y’all don’t need to know except you already know then you don’t need to ask or need to be told… lol, I’m rambling I know) but trying to figure out how to get to the airport in time for my flight, what to pack, etc. Managed to throw some things in my little suitcase, and then I settled in to sleep.

Woke up (with a start) at 5.30am, showered, zipped my box, and knew I wouldn’t find a taxi. So, I drove! Not going to tell you how quick I got there (‘Lewisa Hamilton’ in the building ladies and gentlemen), but I got in, then rang my cabbie to come pick up the car.

Boarded, and can I take a minute just give a big thumbs up to Aero Contractors? On their website they apologized, saying some flights might be delayed because of the weather and poor visibility sometimes. I thought it was really thoughtful of them to say that. But, we were in the air at 7.17am! Not waiting for a passenger, not even taxiing; we were airborne! I was so tripped!

So, got to Port Harcourt about 8.30am, and had to wait for my hosts to come to get me. So I sat down, and ‘people-watched’ for a bit (I like to do that sometimes).

Can I take another minute to discuss the horror that is that airport? God forbid. Absolute disgrace. Like, all shades and levels of shameful.

Anyway, so I sat down, waited, started working on some documents (we must s-l-a-y financially in 2016 biko), and then this lady with a dirty but super short, clingy pink dress comes in. So short her crotch was almost on display. Not my business really, what got my goat however was how dirty the dress was; imagine lots of streaks (maybe from fingers), wet patches, that kind of thing. I sneaked a photo but I’ve since deleted it *re-adjusts halo*

Long, unnecessary story about the long wait for my hosts so let’s just say that I ended up in GRA, at Genesis Cinema where I had a meal, and saw a movie. #SpoilerAlert It was ‘Point Break’, a film about some people who were doing some outrageous, extreme stuff in the name of connecting with Mother Earth, fulfilling the dictates of some leader, etc. It was nice to watch but I would have been happier spending that time on a cartoon. Thank you Kevin for being a great, great host!

Met up with my friend, and we started the trip to Umuahia, which was lovely but a few things stood out.

• The Port Harcourt/Umuahia expressway is a mess.
• Aba is filthy. Like ‘turn up your nose at it’ kind of filthy.
• In Aba there were a number of cars sporting the Biafran flag. I hope they know Nnamdi Kanu has a Nigerian and British passport, ha n’ezuzu ifa.
• Pretty much everyone was driving in the middle of the road, and it wasn’t about avoiding bad roads. So frustrating!

Long story short, we got into Umuahia and then my friend’s village in one piece, safe (despite the communal clash my friend and the driver stumbled on in Rivers State), and we met everyone at hers hale and hearty! Thank you Jesus! Bed time now!

Looking forward to the return leg of this trip (not sure of the date yet), because I get to use another airport I haven’t used in more than ten years! I really do love travelling!

Saturday roundup… and trial by social media.

Hello people!

So, let’s catch up on my Saturday, and some thoughts accruing from that.

So I woke up to photos published by Dele Momodu in his new The Boss Newspapers about Diezani Allison-Madueke and how cancer has ravaged her body. It reminded me of my first degree, and how a particular lecturer would always say, “the medium is the message”. So, for instance, former president Goodluck Jonathan (and now President Muhammadu Buhari) have a peculiar penchant for talking to foreign media over our local journos. Why? The medium.

I feel like if that interview had been published by anyone else (insert the name of a print publication you trust/favor/think are credible), the backlash and accusation of image laundering would have been greatly reduced.

That said, I don’t like to have discussions about cancer when I can help it because it’s very personal to me, and regardless of who it is, somehow I’m always drawn back to 2013 and my aunt, etc. And I talked about that a bit on Saturday because I think that we’re slowly losing our humanity – this rejoicing we do when harm befalls someone. I talked along these lines when the death of Diepriye Alamieyeseigha was announced, I might publish thoughts on that too.

Another thing that amuses me is the deluded way we now ‘hold court’ on Twitter. Has someone committed a crime? Report to the appropriate authorities. Sue them. Charge them to court. Research, find out how you as an ordinary citizen can strengthen the case against them either by gathering signatures for a petition or writing to your local or national representative. But coming on Twitter to pronounce them guilty? Lol. So unfortunate. Even worse, you hear people say things like “they have to come on Twitter to defend themselves”. To whom/before who? Or else? Who are you again? This thing people smoke/drink that gives them wings should be studied.

It’s a dangerous trend we’re setting; ruining reputations on the basis of what one person (many times faceless) has said. What’s to say it’s not a smear campaign? What’s to say the facts haven’t been exaggerated? What’s to say… I could go on and on. And even if they were true, Twitter is not the place where a murderer or a rapist gets their comeuppance. If, for instance, someone’s been raped, the (logical) thing to do would be to report it. If the Police Station doesn’t treat you right (and that’s the more probable thing that will happen), come; let’s march to the Police Headquarters with you. Let’s write letters, raise a storm online that will translate to offline justice.

But don’t come on social media and ruin people’s reputation hiding behind a computer, especially with incomplete, potentially incorrect information. It’s just awful. Ugh! We say trials by the media are bad, well, mob action via social media is worse!

My mother says if you call someone a thief in the marketplace, if/when you find out the person is not a thief, you won’t be able to call everyone back to say you were wrong. Social media in many respects, is a marketplace, with no barrier. “The phone has become the predominant portal for Internet access,” says David Greenfield, a psychologist and founder of the Center for Internet and Technology Addiction in West Hartford, Connecticut. “Which means you can do it all the time. There is literally no threshold to cross.” So a lot of us have become thumb warriors, wreaking havoc and causing grief either because we’re influential, or because we want to be influential. It almost becomes a competition to see who can be the nastiest, who can be the most brazen.

This is where personal social responsibility comes in. Would you normally say everything that comes to your mind? Hopefully the answer is no. Why do we feel the need to act differently then because we’re online? Why do we not spare a thought before we click ‘send’?

We must as a matter of urgency, do away with the school of thought that says that the things we say online are without consequences. On the other side of the great power/influence that social media affords us are the greater risks. Freedom of expression/speech? Definitely, but with freedom comes responsibility. We cannot be touting freedom as an excuse to incite others to violence, to mask hate (under intellectualism especially), or to provoke mass hysteria.

A lot of us end up with egg on our faces because we jump into conclusions we’ve formed based on one side of the story (we and whoever we influence as we go) when we can look to the appropriate quarters for complete information.

We can do better. Let’s do better.

 

Dinner with the Indian High Commissioner!

At the end of May I was inducted into the highly coveted Nigerian Leadership Initiative (NLI), along 26 other truly inspiring young people. I keep saying of the weekend we spent at Epe Hotel and Resorts that I was challenged, inspired, challenged, inspired, you get the drift right?

I think that weekend deserves a full post in itself, and I will get to it I promise. Before then however, let’s talk about this invitation I received. It was in June, a card sent to me through our Alumni Officer inviting NLI to dinner with the Indian Ambassador to Nigeria, Ambassador A.R Ghanashym. We all confirmed attendance, and on the said day, congregated at his beautiful residence somewhere in Maitama.

For starters I was super excited because a dress I’d not been able to wear since 2012 fit (I will write about my weight loss soon too, don’t worry), and so my ‘self-love’ levels were peaking like no man’s business! Got in, met associate members I didn’t know before, and in chatting with Aisha Augie-Kuta, learned that eating a handful of almonds is akin to taking aspirin. Who would have thought?

The chicken samosas were everything! For my main I stuck to closest to familiar with the … and for dessert I tried the icecream. It was actually lovely! Indian food always wins doesn’t it?

Starter was a lovely avocado salad, and the wrapped thing is fish cooked in leaves… so imagine moimoi where beans is exchanged for fish.

Mr Yinka Oyinlola, CEO of NLI and the Indian Ambassador

Totally here for the naan!! Then there was the chicken curry and chickpea vegetable thing that was a little odd-tasting, but quite nice!

Three sauces… one curry, one beef, and the third was a vegetable cream with nuts. Yes, I tried everything!

The Ambassador is a very funny, down-to-earth man, so much that I didn’t know he was the one we were gisting with; somewhere in my mind I was expecting an announcement and then he would come down a flight of stairs or something (I know, my mind is most active), but then I asked someone where he was and she was like, that’s the person you’ve been chatting with na! Smile.

He told us so many stories too! First off, he and his wife are career diplomats, and his wife is currently India’s High Commissioner in South Africa! He said they met former President Goodluck Jonathan at a function and GEJ asked them how many megawatts of electricity they generated between them because they defined ‘power couple’. Lol!

There was also serious talk, with the Ambassador admonishing us to dream. He said it so many times, that we had the opportunity to dream and so not to deny ourselves of ambitious dreams. And to work towards actualizing those dreams because we could, if we put our hearts to it and worked hard. He spoke about traveling within Africa and knowing from his interactions with a lot of people that Nigerians are intellectually superior to any other country on the continent. I scrunched up my nose at that but hey…

Sharing a smile with Chairman of the APC Youth Forum and fellow NLI associate member, Barrister Ismail Ahmed

We were joined by Blossom Nnodim! More smiles!

When we were done with dinner, he introduced us to his staff, from the chef to the butler, to his personal assistant. He told us about caring for staff and how their output/productivity was greatly enhanced just by knowing they had an employer who not only cared about the work they put in, but cared about them too. He said (and I quote), “Care. Find out about the people who work for you. The inane things – birthdays of their family members and make sure to send wishes on those days. Let them feel special, because they are.”

Food for thought there ey?

Then he told us about the (now late) President of India, Avul Pakir Jainulabdeen Abdul Kalam (A.P Abdul Kalam for short), and used his life and the story of the country’s first missile launch to explain true leadership.

He also told us of Devi Prasard Shetti, a globally renowned cardiac surgeon who is as famous for his brilliance as he is for the scheme he personally designed for financially disadvantaged people in India to access a quality of healthcare that would have been beyond their reach. Shetti’s heart hospital Narayana Hrudayalaya is the largest in the world, with a 1000 beds, more international patients than any hospital (their surgeries cost one-tenth of what it would cost in the United States), and performing over 30 heart surgeries a day. Wow!

Shetti wanted to become a heart surgeon from the time (as a child) he heard of the first successful heart transplant. As an adult, he always believed that healthcare could be cheaper, and he kept on thinking about it. The thought birthed Yeshasvini, touted as the world’s cheapest comprehensive healthcare insurance scheme. Farmers pay what comes to about 20 cents a month, and are covered totally. There are over 4 million people signed up to this scheme, which has earned Shetti many awards all over the world.

I was so inspired! I decided to do a bit more reading on the guy, and found this video of a TedTalk he gave I thought you would enjoy.

 

We took lots of photos, presented the Ambassador a gift, and then it was home time! I had a truly exciting, inspiring evening, thank you NLI! When’s the next dinner?

All of us!

Our gift to the Indian Ambassador. He loved them!

We must have taken a million photos that night!

Why hello Mr Gandhi!

My New Chosen Career…

I made a decision this morning, and that is to be very rich. Mind you, I have always wanted to be rich, but this morning I decided on a new course of action to achieve that goal. I am going to get into public office (currently working on schematics) and then I will do one thing – plunder like there is no tomorrow.

I will award contracts to phony companies set up in different variations of my name and the names of my family members, and to my friends as soon as they sign over a minimum of 30% of the contract sum to me. Whether they deliver or not is immaterial, and I can always look good from making a big show of threatening to revoke said contracts when I’m up for a second or third term.

Ahh! I will give personal gifts using public funds, including cars, landed property, trips abroad, livestock, you name it – all that matters is that I’m seen as generous, loving, and supportive. Doesn’t matter that basic amenities in the areas under my jurisdiction are non-existent or dilapidated, that the people whose votes (whether real or stolen) put me in that office are impoverished, or whether I cannot even bear to live in my place of primary assignment because of the alarming level of crime that I have done sod all about. I will give gifts on behalf of my family and myself to whosoever I please, and I won’t give a damn what you think.

Why won’t I give a damn? Errr, because apart from craft cleverly worded tweets and Facebook updates, you don’t do much else. Matter of fact, I can count a good number of your activist peers who pay me nocturnal tea visits, hoping for a slice of national cake to go with it.

Why don’t I give a damn? Let’s see… right. Another reason is because traditional rulers, who should be the custodians of our culture, teachers of right and wrong, and role models for the community, have made camp with political parties that best serve their interests regardless of ideology.

Long as you use the creamiest butter on their bread, doesn’t matter if you’re a rogue, murderer, or pedophile. I’ve been advised that once I’m in that office, they will flock to me, begging to give me chieftaincy titles. And I will accept, because I am an illustrious son of the soil.

You know the biggest reason why I don’t care though? The more wealth I amass, the more immune to prosecution I become. Ahh, there are even some offices I can occupy where something called the ‘immunity clause’ posits that I am above the law.

A thousand blessings to the brains that enacted and ratified that law, it is one of the reasons I aspire to public office. For all the enemies of progress who at one time or the other tried to campaign against that clause, it will not be well with you!

Now, in the event that I offend someone higher up who decides to embarrass with a robbery/fraud accusation, I can decide to engage my army of thugs to fight off the Policemen who dared to try to arrest me, or simply flee to another country to escape prosecution. If the odds are stacked against me and the Police there get a hold of me too, I can post bail, and then escape!! Yes, flee that evil land either dressed as a woman, a circus animal, or inside a drum of oil.

There’s no place like home. I’ll return knowing fully well that after a few days of talking about me and my triumphant entry from my sojourn abroad, they’ll move on to ‘fighting corruption’ in other quarters. And the icing on the cake?

A few years of laying low, bowing at strategic shrines, rebuilding my profile, and of course showing remorse, and I get a presidential pardon! Glory! My slate is wiped clean, and I am free to vie for office again to finish what I started, serving my country with all my strength.

Background reading

Presidential pardon sparks outrage & Nigeria pardons Goodluck Jonathan ally

P:S – originally posted on the Future Challenges site on the 20th of March 2013.

SPIRIT OF THE JAGUAR

Happy new month! It’s February, the month of love and all over the world, the focus has moved from our Herculean and sometimes plain unrealistic resolutions to Valentine’s Day, and all the activity (or drama) it brings. What are your plans?

I love the caption!

Before I veer off point, on the 1st of February 2010 I was in Abuja, working for the BBC World Service trust and I remember attending a praise service at Winners’ Chapel Durunmi before rushing to catch my flight en route Bayelsa State on assignment.

This year, I’m in Birmingham studying Social Media, and no I didn’t attend a praise service this morning. Matter of fact, it would have been a regular, uneventful Tuesday except that I bought return tickets to Warrington Quay (pronounced ‘key’ – I found out today).

So why did I buy the tickets? A colleague of mine graciously offered to ‘show me England’ so this is the first of many days in different cities. The destination for today however, is Chester Zoo, and then a little tour of the city. Forgive me in advance, there are loads of pictures in this one!

I was up  at 6am, ready to leave at 6.45am, and I must thank my newest friend, Tomi, for insisting I wear the white sweater, it looked lovely sha! I caught the 7.20am train and soon after I settles in with my mocha and bagel (thank you McDonald’s), I noticed two kids making out a couple seats away from me. I say kids because even with the makeup, both kids didn’t look a day over 15, and I wondered where their parent’s were and where they were going so early in the morning. Then I wondered (as I always do) what the motivation for the public display of affection was. I’m not talking hugs or pecks on the cheeks, it was more like fondling, a very active Saliva Exchange Program, and more! At that time of the morning? At their ages? And the gentleman in the seat in front of me who kept farting didn’t help my state of mind!

God being merciful, I got into Warrington safely (phew), met up with Andy, and we drove to Chester; beautiful sights, lovely conversation, Lagbaja in the background, bright sunny day, what else could I ask for? 

Fast forward to the magnificent elephants at the zoo. Last time I was in a zoo it was June 2010, the Limbe Wildlife Conservatory in Cameroon. That’s (in my words), an orphanage where animals rescued from poachers, extreme conditions, and ailing parents are nursed/raised. It’s a really beautiful place, you can see pictures from my visit here: Limbe Wildlife Center. For all of that, they didn’t have elephants!

They are so huddled together Andy thinks they could pass for a boy band! I'm thinking JLS.....

Do you know how to tell if an elephant is preggers?  From their poop! Their keepers take several samples of their poop and can tell from the amount of hormones in it if the elephant is horny, pregnant or about to give birth! Just from their poop! That’s jut amazing!

This one was eating twigs, that's not even a proper meal!

From there we went into the butterfly world and believe me I’ve never seen so many butterflies at the same time! They all looked gorgeous, but for some silly reason, I couldn’t get any of them to perch on my hand!
Next we saw the ‘lazy giraffes’, they are so tall! I know you must be thinking, “duh, they’re giraffes” but you know what? That’s how I felt so whateverrrrr! Also, I can bet one of them was fluttering their eyelids at me!

Moving on, I felt the spirit of the jaguar! I was awed watching the jaguar move around in its recreated home. I was just awed……that’s all I’ll say about that… 

Lazy Jaguar!

At the Realm of the Apes (the biggest orangutan enclosure in Europe), I saw a baby! Of course I meant an ape; from the time I brought out my phone to take a picture of it, it wouldn’t stop looking at me! And don’t even say what you’re thinking!

Outside the Realm of the Apes!

Baby kept looking at me!

We saw a couple  snakes too, and a big funny type of lizard that was shedding its skin and then we were off to see the penguins.

Happy Feet anyone?

Flamingos are just beautiful, and looking at all the animals I just think God is amazing. Walahi He is!

A ha! How could I forget? So we saw a tiger tearing at flesh (it was lunch time), and while we were trying to get a good shot of it some school girls amble to where we were and were talking, giggling, and (in my opinion) trying to get the tigers attention (Olorun maje)!

Good afternoon your highness?

I ignored them till one of them said

School Girl 1: what’s the tiger eating?

School Girl 2: it is eating meat

School Girl 1: oh really?

And I turned around, looked at her, and thought, “no darling, it’s eating cheerios”! With all the bone cracking sounds?

Anyways, so we moved on and saw some ostriches but I’m sure the ones at Abuja’s Wonderland Amusement Park are bigger, cleaner, and more healthy looking. I was so disappointed in the one I saw I didn’t take a picture!

We saw Red Pandas too, show offs! They are really cute though, and I love the varying degrees of brown they wear as skin.

Little cute things......

The parrots were gorgeous too, so much color!

Absolutely gorgeous!

Still on birds, I HATE bats! #thatisall

We saw cheetahs too, that picture reminded me of the parts of Lion King with Mufasa and then Simba on Pride Rock. Nice…..

*now singing, it's the circle of life*

There’s not much to say about the lions because they didn’t do anything other than mope, the male was falling in and out of sleep, and the female was just staring.

Sleeping at 1pm? Shame for me

So much for being lions; whatever happened to a little activity?

Not very clear but you should get the idea!

The animal above is called a tapir. They are special in the sense that urine is as important to them as poop is to elephants. Using the Jacobson’s organ in their mouths, they can tell from urine whether their females are ready to mate. They also use their urine as a tracking tool in the forests to tell if their mates have passed a particular area. Funny but their urine is also used as a defense mechanism. When a tapir is scared (or angry), it will pee, and the urine travels for metres. And even though their urine isn’t poisonous, it stinks to high heavens!

By the way, I learnt something today. Chester is an old Roman town, as evidenced by it’s name.

Feeding a statue a snickers bar in the Roman gardens in the zoo!

One way to tell which towns/cities in the UK were built by the Romans is they end in either chester, cester, or caster. Examples would be Lancaster, Manchester, Leicester, get the drift? Thank me later!

Ok, so that’s it from the spirit of the jaguar, also known as the Chester Zoological Gardens! We’re off, next stop? Chester City, and Jabula!

P:S – all the pictures from the Zoo are here: The Zoo and more….some of the animals were not striking enough for this chronicle!

BAYELSA OTU!

Every first day of the month in my church is an early praise service, to thank God for the privilege of seeing another month and seek his guidance and direction. Today wasn’t any different. Naturally because I was to travel today I couldn’t sleep, finally shut my eyes about midnight, woke up about 5am, and finished packing (goes without saying that I forgot quite a lot of things).

So we went to church, there was a lot of singing and dancing and praise to God and then I had to leave for the office enroute the airport.

Fast forward to after I had boarded, the guy beside me (won’t say where he’s from for the sake of national unity) didn’t know how to use his seatbelt, so I helped him (as a good citizen). Then, he slept off and I started reading. He woke up when the hostess was handing me a chicken sandwich and a bottle of water. Now we all know that Aero’s refreshments are now for ‘independent men and women’ (thank you Destiny’s Child) but I think that this Son of God beside me didn’t know because in his sleepy state, he stretched out his hand too. The hostess smiled at him and then gave him exactly what she had given me. ‘No give me Panta’, he said so she gave him a can, and then she said, ‘that’s N600 Sir’. The shock on his face left me laughing for a very long time (after I got off the plane of course). ‘Is it not por pree’? Ha ha ha!

Ok, so we landed in Port Harcourt (safely), and I helped my neighbor unfasten his seatbelt (it’s a good thing we didn’t quarrel or anything, I would have just left him there)!

Fast forward to when my friends picked me up in Yenagoa (especially since I don’t want to tell you about the horrible roads, scary looking mobile policemen every 5metres (almost felt like I was in Darfur), and worse still, the guy who slept and wanted to keep ‘leaning on me’…as if I have even the remotest ties to Kirk Franklin!

Anyways, Bayelsans are very welcoming, that’s a fact. They are warm, friendly, etc, as long you’re not an employee/associate/boyfriend/relation or an affiliate in anyway to any oil company, foreign or local. Every interview I conducted re-affirmed what I was told when I first got there though: there’s a yearning gap between the rich and the poor (regardless of what we think of Bayelsa being a land flowing with milk and honey). Their problems are compounded by swampy land, adding an enormous cost of intense sand filling for anyone who wants to build, and even for road construction too. Like every other state in the country, Bayelsa is besieged by corruption, and the effects are obvious. The tension is so thick it is palpable, making me fear that we might just see/hear of violence (like we have never experienced before) if care is not taken.

Its common knowledge that Warri (of Delta state), and Benin (Edo), are the places for pidgin English. I believed that, till I went to Bayelsa, pidgin English there sounds like a dialect! I think also that Bayelsans are very practical people, for example, I was doing an interview and because the person I was talking with was so pessimistic and despondent so I said, ‘God will help us’.
He said – I don’t believe in God, I dey serve my juju.
I said – ok, that’s good (noticing for the first time the strange looking ornament he wore round his neck…was that a tooth for the pendant)?
He said – na true na, who wan serve juju if all of us dey serve God?
Naturally, I ended that interview real quick (and that’s all I’ll say about that)!

I couldn’t resist the temptation to go near water, and it’s beautiful. Once upon a time I was told you could sit there, relax and have young boys (and girls) catch and then roast fish for you for a small fee. These days, you can still sit and chill, the water’s not just producing that much fish anymore (for obvious reasons abi)?

Away from the gloomy, I went around at night (to complete the Bayelsan experience); visited places like De Jakes, V10, etc. let me put it like this, if Shank’s ‘Julie’ is the number 1 song on the charts in a club or lounge in 2010, ‘Houston we definitely have a problem’!

I won’t talk about the dances I saw so I don’t spoil your day. I’ll however be fair and say that there were some pretty good dancers too. Ok?

Ok…what else? Hmm…. Yes! So I went to a fast-food joint, seemed like a pretty normal, everyday kind of spot. When I placed my order, paid and picked my bags to go, the lady said, have a nice day, we love you’. Seriously? I had a good laugh but I bet you I went back there for dinner. (PLAY, Abuja take note).

I came here to work yes; I still took time to sample some local delicacies. Suffice to say that almost every meal is eaten with fried fish, boiled fish, roasted fish, fish pepper soup, I can almost bet they eat raw fish too (joke o)! Example, yam and palm oil and fish pepper soup, unripe plantain pottage and fish pepper soup, rice and stew and fish pepper soup, I bet you could get a burger with fish pepper soup. Any wonder they’re running out of fish? On the other hand, makes me wonder why the Federal government engages the boys the boys from these parts in fights, and then go on air to say they ‘didn’t find the militants’! How do you expect to find them? For heavens sakes these people were probably born under water! Anyways, I digress.

Back to food, remember Steve Irwin, the guy on National Geographic who was killed by a fish called Stingray? Ok, so for breakfast one morning at a traditional ruler’s house I was told we would be having boiled yam and fish pepper soup. When the food came, everything but the fish looked normal. I asked and was told that the fish was the famous Stingray. ‘Jeez’, I said, and immediately lost my appetite; I would later eat bread and a coke. How can I eat something that killed a whole human being? Same way I won’t/can’t eat lion/tiger/snake/wolf/fox or crocodile meat (Fairy or no Fairy)!

Let me end this post with a big thank you to the Crown Prince of Opume kingdom, Dawuta, Austen, and the other people who made my stay in Bayelsa state complete.

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