NAIJA TOUR (8)

One of the advantages of banking with old generation banks for many Nigerians is the thought that they could not fail like the new generation ones. Even if and when they are rocked by scandals that's enough to swallow the new generation banks, these first generationals  manage to stay afloat, especially because I think they have acquired assets over the years, besides their presence in all the nooks and cranies of Nigeria (including the remotest of places), and have in their boards very powerful people (in government and out of it) or their fronts or proxies, that somehow manage to make financial regulators quite sympathetic to them when they run foul of the law, leaving them with a slap on the wrist in such situations.    

So, even when such banks slowly and reluctantly embrace latest banking technology they do not necessarily lose their crowd, though they may no longer be first choice for most of their customers. The reason they remain in contention may not be unconnected with the fact that they make withdrawals herculean which is good news for many who intend to "truly" save, compared to the new generation banks where there are a gazillion ways to withdraw your money online real time. Unfortunately, hanging with the old generationals during a tour like I undertook meant that each time the ATM cards works, one must withdraw maximally, as it may be the last time one could be successful at the ATM for another few hours for reasons ranging from poor network (that has a way of peculiarly choosing such banks) amongst others, some of which point at the incompetence of the IT sections of such banks.

So it was, that the last time I used that banks debit card was in Lafia (Nasarawa State capital) the night before arriving in Abuja while strolling through Jos Road. I don't know where I got the confidence to spend cash buying medication and food expensively  in Abuja, when I knew I would be traveling later that evening. The first sign that all may not go well was when my host was driving me out of the Games Village after that sumptuous meal of Boiled Tilapia and Shawarma and I tried the ATM there, and I was told that my issuer was unoperative or inoperative (the exact words used skip my memory now). A next try at another, a few meters away (with a guy standing right beside the ATM like he had intention to mug) also proved abortive, but I had hopes. A third try was at Utako (a nidus for transport company termini), before approaching the Luxury Bus Terminus, and it was the same story, though I was able to check my balance (to be sure that the other times I attempted to withdraw was not recorded as successful). 

Gladly, my preferred luxury bus company with which I frequently travel was much into the "cashless" thing, even doing discounts for passengers who use their debit cards rather than paying cash. I was happy to use my debit card on their Point Of Sales (POS) machine, which was issued by the same old generation bank whose ATM I had in my possession. Unfortunately, the POS machine declined my card. It was now some few minutes to six in the evening and I was beginning to feel awkward. Off again into the streets I went to try more ATM's only to come back with the same results. Back at the terminus, the lady issuing the tickets wouldn't let me try my debit card again, and was beginning to view me with suspicion even though her records show that I was a frequent traveller with her bus company. I asked if I could transfer the money to her company's account but she flippantly responded that she didn't know the account. Frustrated, I asked to see the manager, she said "ok", but made no attempt to stand from her seat, or beckon to anyone to help me.

Luckily, a young man I had seen walk in and out of the cubicle where she was seated, was once again going out for something, and I approached him and explained my predicament, to which he hardly broke sweat before giving me an account to wire the required sum for the ticket to an account number I suspect was his, and thereafter directed the ticketing clerk to give me the ticket once the "alert" hit his phone. I couldn't be more grateful. The qualms I had with the ticketing clerk didn't stop me from asking her for a window side seat, to which she quickly responded to the effect that there was none. I was just happy to be able to leave Abuja that night, even though it only meant I'd have a day to loaf about before business in Port Harcourt by so doing.

I went about "charging" my "power bank" at one of the stalls at the terminus, as my mobile phones were already showing signs of low batteries, and it was important for me to be online. The food (jollof rice) served by the bus company in Abuja was better than those in Lagos. It didn't smell of so much monosodium glutamate as with the one at the Lagos park, but I could only manage two spoonfuls before chewing away at the fried meat, which also wasn't bad. The water, though not as cold as I'd have wanted it was much welcome, and I gulped the whole content in the bottle down. I couldn't buy anything at the park because I was low on cash and saved what I had for the journey, where I would then need to buy a thing or two if need be.

The bus started boarding about eight thirty later that evening, but interestingly it wasn't full as at the time the journey started. I guess that was why it delayed so much, and there was no first bus or second bus (that was usually by 5pm and 7pm respectively), rather just one bus to Port Harcourt, in Rivers State, South-South Nigeria, in the heart of the Niger Delta. The ticketing clerk may have thought she was dealing me a bad one when she refused to give me a window seat, but it turned out that there was no one for the window seat, and we left Abuja with just me occupying the space for two people. I took up my space near the window with joy, relishing what I missed on my way to Abuja. It was good to know that we were now on our way to Port Harcourt, as it was beginning to feel like something was doing all it could to stop me from reaching that destination, especially at the time I planned to be there.

I slept, woke up and we were at Lokoja. Must be around 2am and passengers were allowed to go grab some things to eat, drink and "pee". As usual, I went for things that wouldn't cause me bowel distress, in kebab (suya in local parlance) and water. The driver and his mate also used the opportunity to fill the bus with Port Harcourt bound passengers they met on ground, and that was how I got me a fat man as seatmate, and the journey continued in earnest. The air from outside was chilly, enough to cause passengers on the other side of the aisle to beg that I closed the window to the dissatisfaction of my seatmate who registered his displeasure with a "mtcheeeeew".

All was going well for a while till we heard a loud bang, that I felt came from under the vehicle, and I had hoped for the worst, seeing that I didn't have lots of cash in my wallet, something that armed robbers don't like to see or hear, and for which many passengers had gotten maimed and killed under such circumstances. I quickly scanned the area for means of escape should push come to shove, only to find that the bus was gradually waltzing to the side of the road closer to a light source that turned out to be from a hotel on a lonely road in Asaba, Delta State. There was no sign of armed robbers, nor of policemen. Even vehicles were passing in trickles, and those were mainly buses and cars used for haulage purposes, heavily loaded within, and without especially on their tops, with the load on top for most of them appearing to be larger than those inside the vehicles.

Most of us passengers alighted from the bus, when it became obvious that it was a case of a burst tyre in the first of the four tyres at the left back, and rantings by passengers began, for me the second time since I started my tour (though for a different reason as from with the first). The feeling of something stopping me from getting to Port Harcourt crept in again and I quietly waved it away while watching proceedings. The drivers' mate's attempt to remove the faulty tyre and replace with another met with arguments and counterarguments from passengers who felt he wasn't going about it properly. He managed to lose all but one of the nuts after "jacking" the bus to what some of the passengers didn't consider high enough. As if things weren't bad enough, it started to rain, not in drizzles but torrentially that those of us on the ground had to run to a nearby stall beside the hotel, to escape getting drenched even though we couldn't escape getting cold. The mate continued to try to lose the nut but when it appeared that there might be a case of misthreading which had made it difficult for the nut to come lose, he decided to put the other nuts back in place, after which we reboarded the bus and continued the journey slowly this time, as much as the burst tyre could allow in the rain. It really didn't feel so bad going the way we were going and I wondered why the driver didn't consider this earlier rather than exposing us to inclement weather, and possible marauding right in the middle of nowhere.

By a few minutes after five in the morning we stopped. I thought we were at a military checkpoint, but it turned out to be a traffic gridlock. Vehicles were parked bumper to bumper and for a long time we didn't move until some flicker of daylight began to appear on the horizon. At this point I got down with some passengers to see actually what exactly was going on. We could see nothing. Even when there was movement, it was for just a few feet and nothing more. The stretch of vehicles was so long that it was difficult to see the end. Passengers were now beginning to alight and walk towards the Niger Bridge into Onitsha. I was very tired, and didn't know if I could do the trek. With the issue of the bad tyre at the back of my mind I wasn't sure that once traffic became lighter that the bus won't stop in Onitsha to finally change the tyre. Eventually, I decided to trek into Onitsha against advice I received of another passenger of how far from Onitsha we were. Some exercise shouldn't kill I thought, and the lack of cash didn't help my situation hence I picked my back pack and started my trek.

LUXURY BUSES AND HAULAGE TRUCKS HELD UP IN TRAFFIC INWARDS THE NIGER BRIDGE FROM ASABA.

It turned out to be a long one, and more people were now doing the trek. The reason for the traffic jam became clearer as I inched closer to the Niger Bridge, that connected South-eastern Nigeria, to the Niger Delta (South-South Nigeria) on that axis. I was informed that the day before, protesting members of the Indigenous People of Biafra, IPOB had blocked the bridge and brought commercial activities to a halt in Onitsha (commercial capital of Anambra State and the Southeast as a whole), demanding the release of their leader Nnamdi Kanu, currently detained by the Federal Government on charges of incitement, even Treason and Terrorism (for asking for self determination, and a sovereign state of Biafra from what is today the Eastern part of Nigeria, from the rest). A Joint Task Force of the police and members of the arms of the military were then stationed at the Asaba and Onitsha end of the Niger Bridge to screen vehicles entering and leaving Onitsha, in anticipation of the bigger protest planned for the day.

EVEN LIVESTOCK FEEL THE UNEASE DUE TO TRAFFIC BUILD-UP AT THE ASABA END OF THE NIGER BRIDGE.

Part of my itinerary was Anambra State, and I could simply go in there, do what I had to do and then go to Port Harcourt, but then I must finish everything that day and head for Port Harcourt the next to meet up with my appointment. I considered that if IPOB youths go on with their plan of a mega demonstration it might be difficult to get out of Onitsha to Port Harcourt even if I was able to conclude my business in time outside of Onitsha but within Anambra State. If however I go on to Port Harcourt, I would still get my much needed rest, make my appointment the next day, then enter Onitsha before careering into the rest of Anambra to fulfill my plans there, get some play time even clock some time in neighbouring Imo State before returning to base in Lagos, Southwest Nigeria. I decided while trekking, and now close to the Asaba end of the Niger Bridge to get money first, before deciding what to do next. I figured that my best bet will be to get to an ATM of the old generation bank branch that issued my debit card, so that if it doesn't work, I could go into the bank at eight o'clock and get the much I needed to continue my journey the traditional way, hopefully without making a scene for the embarrassment and discomfort their debit card had caused me the day before. It was then 7am.

'kovich

NAIJA TOUR (3)

There's usually nothing to see while traveling at night, just to mark time and find out where one is at every point, or at stops for which to stretch the legs when such opportunities present, so I simply let my mind roam. My recent visits to Ogun State in recent times have shown me how really small Lagos is, making me wonder how smaller still it would've been before part of this same Ogun State was carved into it to become what it today is. I have raised this issue because of another state that is a travel determinant for many (or maybe just me) who travel cross country especially from the west to and from other parts of Nigeria.

It is from my frequent travels from and to the southwest (Lagos in particular) that the hugeness of Ondo State became quite apparent to me. When we had our initial delay, the only thing I could think about was Ondo and many times I had wondered as to how journey times by road could greatly reduce if Ondo was excised from journey paths to and from the west to other parts of Nigeria. Interestingly, for travelers at night, there's hardly any traffic, so its just that going-and-going feeling that's there that gnaws at one's innards. It's disappointing to find after travelling for so long that one is still within Ondo State, and had I not known better I would've surmised that the contractors that handled the federal roads through Ondo incorporated into that stretch of road, a labyrinth. 

Not a few of us passengers were highly disappointed to find that by 5am, after leaving the outskirts of Lagos by past 11pm last night we were just at Òwò in Ondo State. I took it in my stride remembering how getting to Òrè (also within Ondo State) when traveling to the east from the west does that too. I don't know if it will help the psyche if Ondo State is split into two or three states, which I doubt will shorten the journey, but at least one will be glad that one doesn't feel s/he stuck within just one state for what seems like unending hours.

I allowed all of Bob Marley's more than a hundred and twenty offerings on my phone stream into my ears in alphabetical order while watching time and space waltz by. He is one of the few musicians (dead or alive) that I could listen to tracks and albums on end without replay, but seamlessly move from one track to the other. They don't make them like that anymore sadly, but this here is what I will use to counter what Ondo State does to me when I travel. I am sure there's no way passing through Ondo will be longer than my array of Bob Marley songs. I win anyhow.

Lokoja in Kogi State is usually another landmark spot. It was one of the reasons I almost considered putting off the journey to Abuja, or deciding in favour of going to the South-south from Lagos, before the east then northward than the other way round.  After the death of Prince Abubakar Audu (the late APC guber candidate who died last Sunday, while results of an election he was forerunner in was being collated), pundits had predicted chaos in that axis, but till now not much in terms of violence have been noted, making it unnecessary to alter my itinerary. The way Ondo conspired to hold us within its claws made me wonder if we would ever reach Lokoja. I wasn't surprised when by 6am we were still in Southwestern Akoko area of Ondo State, and my heart sank further, only to receive strength from the Bob Marley music in my head. 

It did turn out for good much later that we had to make the latter part of Ondo State in daylight, at least for me because then I could size up those huge rocks and hills that part of Nigeria is very famous for. Many of those sites are visited by tourists outside of Nigeria while those under whose noses these nature's beauty sprang up could give no hoot about them. It was getting increasingly cold now and I wondered if it was due to the elevation of that part of town or the harmattan from the north had already landed in that part of the Southwest. It occurred to me then, that I hadn't come with any form of warm clothing in my backpack, but even that thought was overtaken by the view I was enjoying. Not much appears to have changed with the settlements in the Akoko area of Ondo State, there were signs of electricity but there were more mud houses than the modern block houses, but I know now that that situation is not so much due to poverty than it is because the people in such places see buildings made with mud as more a temperature moderator especially in times of extreme temperatures. 

Over the years, I have only associated military roadblocks with the roads in the north, but this time around we have encountered several since we made it into Ondo State and I guess going further we will encounter them more frequently. Only on one occasion though did we come across a police patrol team. The current security situation in Nigeria could be blamed for this state of affairs, and even the misstep by President Muhammadu Buhari days after assumption of office, in which he ordered a dismantling of roadblocks, led to his having to swallow his vomit, when the terrorists struck almost immediately in response, as if in some kind of celebration at the lifting of obstacles that had hampered their operations in recent times.

Nothing gave me greater joy, when we eventually navigated our way out of Ondo into Okenne, Kogi State, for me that milestone is always worth celebrating so I let my innards jump for joy, the best they could do in the limited space allowed them.

AT A STOP IN LOKOJA FOR PASSENGERS TO STRETCH THEIR LEGS AND HAVE SOME REFRESHMENTS.

At this time, school children were already out and on their way to school. Interestingly, all the passengers blowing hot as to how last nights' delay will cost them their appointment this morning were silent, some even still asleep, except maybe like me they have surrendered themselves to fate. Like I always thought, things could've been worse.

'kovich

NAIJA TOUR (2)

When people we know travel and intimate us of their departure time we are wont to predict where they could be considering the time they left to the time such thoughts come to mind without considering unexpected events that may lead to delays. I have been involved several times in such situations where I had just bid farewell to an acquaintance at the park only to be stuck for hours just a few kilometers away from the point of departure, with the last person I saw or those I called to inform that the vehicle I was traveling in had left, thinking I'd have by then gone far.

I have since learnt to be humble in the face of delays when I travel (even when it had the tendency to upset well laid out plans or alter appointments, the failing of which will impact negatively on me), as that couldn't possibly be the worst that can happen to a traveler, in fact I have always felt somewhere in my mind that delays sometimes, protect us somewhat from something worse that could happen to us if we had continued. I welcome most delays sometimes with that at the back of my mind. When the replacement bus turned up after three hours and we eventually continued the journey by 11:11pm, it occurred to me that those I'd informed of my departure time would've put me at Ondo or seeing the end of Ibadan at the time, without the slightest inkling that we had barely just left Lagos, having only just only scratched the surface of what is that journey to central Nigeria from its western coast.

It is because of incidents like this that I make it a priority to travel using well established transport companies, as situations where passengers would be stranded without the transport company sending spare buses to come takeover the journey are not what you would normally associate with them. Though the replacement bus wasn't as spacious as the one that brought us thus far, passengers were just relieved that at least the journey to Abuja can continue, and soon enough angry retorts gave way to jocular insinuations, especially of what could've been had the bus failed to turn up or something even more sinister had happened while we waited. 

Interestingly, once the journey resumed, most of those who had expended much energy engaging the driver of the former bus in expletives-laden banter, became somnolent. I thought about how I used to be like them in the past, throwing tantrums each time I felt shortchanged by the services provided by the transport companies. Nowadays even for the best of them, I retain very little expectations, even to the extent of refusing to eat their heavily monosodium glutamate-soaked complimentary jollof rice, preferring only their bottled water, while I sorted my own food.

I didn't get my favorite window seat this time but I couldn't care less, as I could clearly see out of the huge windows on all side of the bus, and was amazed at seeing children still hawking snacks even as it neared midnight at each of the points on the Trunk A of the southwestern roads, where vehicles are forced to slow down for one reason or the other. Things are really tough in Nigeria, and many families have to make tough decisions like the ones involving these kids to make ends meet. If only those at the helm of affairs, the politicians and policy makers who feel they know better than the rest of us, what to do to alleviate the sufferings of the people of Nigeria, can only get down to doing exactly that, maybe things will turn around for good. Unfortunately, there's nothing on ground, even with this government that won elections on the CHANGE mantra that suggest that things will soon or eventually change for the better.

INSIDE OF THE LUXURY BUS CONVEYING ME TO ABUJA

The night journey that I am familiar with had finally come, so once again I blocked my ears , this time not listening to radio stations but music streaming from my phone on MP3 and nodding off my head to it, while other passengers slept. Gone are the days when luxury buses provided en-bus entertainment of music, even movies. The case for security has ensured  that all of that, had to be sacrificed on the alter of expedience, especially during night journeys, and I couldn't even care less, as when such held sway what was usually on show was the same brain dulling movies off the stable of Nollywood, that I couldn't stand for all it's worth. I searched my eyes for any sign of heaviness, finding none, I knew immediately that a long night awaits me!

'kovich

NAIJA TOUR

When I travel cross-country by road for a journey that will take not less than ten hours, especially to a destination (like Abuja) I am not too familiar with, I prefer to travel by night. Apart from the fact that I wouldn't like to waste precious day hours starring into nothingness while the journey lasts, it is also so that I can arrive at my destination in daylight.

My choice of transportation for these journeys are the huge luxury buses traversing the length and breadth of Nigeria mostly at night, and not any smaller vehicles that though exposed to the same dangers appear to be safer or rather much more successful in bringing passengers to their destinations in one piece most of the time.

When it became imperative that I will be travelling to Abuja as well as other towns and cities in my itinerary, I did what I would normally do- travel by night, by the transport company I had severally tested and trusted. In fact, because of my frequent traveller status I didn't anymore have to divulge much information when buying my ticket as the other details easily come up. They also have e-portals via which one can even book seats for travel.

THE LUXURY BUS ABOUT BOARDING TIME

This journey was very much anticipated by me because of the many things I intend to pursue and accomplish before returning to base in Lagos, mixing business with pleasure when and where I can. The formalities of boarding completed we soon set out of Lagos to what seemed to be the routine, not-out-of-place journey. I had blocked out the world (including the man hawking drugs to passengers while the bus waltzed it's way out of Lagos at reasonable speed) as usual with my earpiece strapped tightly to my ears, listening to the news at six on Inspiration FM, 92.3 Lagos, followed by the news on Classic FM, 97.3 by 6:30 and finally "Kubanji Direct", a current affairs programme on Radio Continental 102.3 FM from 7pm, while downloading a remix of Ini Kamoze's "Worl'A Reggae" before I noticed that the bus wasn't keeping pace with the other vehicles on the road. 

The driver eventually parked the bus right beside the gate of "Redeemed Camp", and after a while informed us passengers that the bus had developed a clutch problem and the journey with that bus couldn't continue. We would have to disembark and await the arrival of another bus to come in about an hour or two, reboard before continuing the journey to our destination. I have learnt in situations like this to keep my cool, assess the situation before deciding my next action, so while other passengers raised their voice in attack and insults hurled in the direction of the driver and his assistant, I simply looked out for escape routes I could employ should the night become sorrier than it is already.

The police patrol vehicle that was just a few meters from where our luxury bus was parked was soon moved away by the police in it, and I wondered why and how they could do that seeing that we were distressed passengers, left out there by a freak of happenstance with nowhere else to go but wait for the replacement vehicle, we had been promised will come for us. Those policemen further cemented within me, and I guess with my co-travelers the truth that the Nigerian police have come to represent over time, the opposite of their popular slogan to the effect that "THE NIGERIAN POLICE IS YOUR FRIEND", when they conveniently become inconspicuous when you need them the most.

So, I surveyed the height of the small fence of the Conoil Petrol station, and how easily I could scale it into the expansive compound of the Redeemed Camp, should the unexpectedly unwanted happened, while appreciative of the full moon that provided the much needed illumination on that part of the Lagos-Ibadan Expressway, while awaiting the "replacement luxury" bus that is to come and relieve us from our state of traveling limbo, now even after two hours.

'kovich