Pages

Saturday 8 March 2014

Oyibo

Back here in the UK we have a mulit cultural society. We are conditioned to interact in a certain manner.We have, what we are told, is a ' Socially Evolved Society '. In Nigeria it is a Mono Cultural Society. Yes there are over 500 tribes and languages. With three main ones are, Ibo in the west, Hausa in the north and Yoruba in the east.And whilst there are two main religions, Islam and Christianity, culturally, they all sing off the same hymn sheet.( See what I did there.....comedy genius.)

I say all this,as what is ' normal ' here, isn't ' normal ' there. And visa versa.So I wanted to share some mentality differences and some of the incidents born of those differences.Remember, I am the only white man.

" Oyibo ".

All across the African continent I was shouted at, sometimes in a very friendly manner. Sometimes children flocked around me. Sometimes it was with utter contempt. The names I was called all had one thing in common.....they meant 'white man'.

In Nigeria, despite all the different tribal languages and English being spoken to varying degrees. From absolutely nothing to fluent. 'Oyibo' means ' white man '. And the mentality I constantly met was one of interest and intrigue. But also, one of ' you are white, you are rich and i want your money'. Political Correctness does not exist and so honesty flourishes.The people speak much more openly than we do in the UK.Can you imagine a black man shouting out " hey white man " ? And the response being " hi black man " . All said tongue and cheek. But for them, there is no reason to know my actually name, as I am the only white man. So, Oyibo is enough.

Nigeria, along with all of Africa is completely informal, by our standards. Complete strangers will speak to you, as if long lost relatives. People will speak to you briefly at a bar and then just join you at your table.And speak as if you've always known each other.( One of my biggest cultural shocks, has actually been coming back to the UK.And back to everyone ignoring each other.By comparison.) But with this is both good and bad. As in my experience, 90 % had an agenda. An agenda as I was ' Oyibo '. It was to a point that when someone befriended me and sat at my table, I was counting the seconds till he or she wanted something from me.All the pleasant and friendly chat was usually just a sales pitch at the end of the day. But once you know it's a game and don't let on that you do, you are empowered.

Cigarettes and normally Benson & Hedges, are 200 N a packet. ( 260 N to £1.) Your new ' friend' sits at your table and within 2 minutes he will have helped himself to a fag.( Americans reading this. No happy, happy men are involved in this moment.! ) .He then will order a Star beer, costing 300 N. Chat with you like you're his best mate.Tell you he would love to see the UK and when are you going to invite him over. When he gets told its not possible, he gets up and moves onto his next bar. It's cost you a beer, as it's a tab on your table and a couple of cigarettes. Fifteen minutes later, the next one comes over and befriends you......

....' you are white, you are rich and I want your money..'.......

Whilst these moments are both frequent, at almost conveyor belt speed.They don't actually cost too much, yes on principle its wrong. By our social standards. But i promise you, you will never change the African mentality, of how they view the white man.There is a view that we some how magically just have lots of money.Education and hard work are never part of the formula. Just that ' we ' have money.The end.

But I can also confirm, that I have also been invited to tables by complete strangers and treated like a celebrity or something. What ever drink I wanted and ....ahum....just point at which women you want.!!
Women in Africa are completely subservient to the man. Completely.Not only do they look after the home and the children.They make the food, Yam Yam for example, taking hours of pounding with a large pole.Into a tree trunk. To make it eatable.( Its a bit like potato and glue.) Then the women are expected to do ' any lifting in the bush '.You will see them walking with huge stacks of 10 ft long wooden logs on their heads, for miles, back to the mud huts. The men seem to all gather under large trees and stay in the shade.Often drinking Palm Wine.

I did say our cultures and society are very different. Almost to the point of being opposite. Yet, in Africa, it works just fine.

As ' Oyibo ', i did have more than one incident involving guys ramming their elbows into my back, whilst in a club near my hotel.I put up with it twice and then told them what I thought.Which seemed to surprise them.It's a fine line between standing up for decency and being perceived as an arrogant ' Oyibo'.But in my experience, you do it right, other Nigerians come to your aid.

Whilst in the same club, I was invited over to table. The guy who invited me kept getting up to have his picture taken, mainly with girls. Turned out he was from Ethiopia, spoke fantastic English and had just won Big Brother Africa.The man next to him sent a message over to me, apparently he was a famous DJ in Calabar. And when he found out my motorbike story, wanted to interview me.

That night as I walked the 200 m back to my hotel.At the bottom of the road I was staying on, lay some logs. ( Which means illegal road block.) Knife in my right boot, but with alcohol in my body....out jumped two men with huge machetes!!! Machetes raised and shouting. I lowered my head slightly, turned my empty hands towards them and just said " Oyibo". " How's it going, are you security "  ? ( Local Vigilantes. ) They said ' yes '. Accepted I wasn't a threat and walked me to my hotel. Me talking all the way.....and no, I have no idea what i was saying. I just wanted to keep them on side. One of them scrapped his machete along the railings of the metal Hotel fence and shouted the security inside.Certainly could have been a different moment, but it all worked out in the end.It helps if you know how they think. Or at least try to.

Next blog is about how I sold my little motorbike in Nigeria and the final bribes I paid to get out of the country.

I've put myself through al ot and cost myself my home, all possessions and now my savings.I'm not claiming the dole and am living off my Overdraft. Daily I risked my life all across Africa. I did it to raise awareness and donations for wounded servicemen.They sit in wheel chairs....without legs. Help me to help them stand, stand with dignity. Please click the Help for Heroes logo top right. Make a donation please.

Will



Thursday 6 March 2014

Jumbo gets his 9mm out! !!

Tongue and cheeck with the title, but non the less,yet another moment in a week packed full of them.

I comsidered how to write about the ten days in Calabar. So many incidents and just one blog entry. So I'm splitting it into two. And going to give you a rounded account of each incident.

During the course of my time in Nigeria, I saw lots of armed police and army. Running check points and pulling vehicles over. Basically the uniformed police are close to Mafia, in standards of corruption. Using their official position to get money out of anyone they can. A white man is rich remember, and is guaranteed to be approached for money. Who you going to call? ( who said Ghost Busters ??)

The Army will expect a tip as you go through their check points. Despite there being a big sign,that says, "Do not give money to the soldiers.  It is an offence. "

The least corrupt and most professional are Immigration Officers. They are the first and last Nigerians you will meet. The ones I met did their jobs very well. Were educated, polite but firm. And simply want to ensure you are allowed in Nigeria. And were proud to represent their country. They can stop, search and arrest you. And arguably have more power than the average police man.

Twice during my stay in Nigeria, plain clothed Immigration Officers took me to one side. Wanting to check my visa and reasons for being in Nigeria. I'm not hard to find. I was the only white man I saw !!

The Immigration Officer Incident

My hotel was a decent standard and had a bar directly opposite that did food. So of a night I'd pop over. The owner,Otwo,was SCID. ( Plain clothed cop.) As was his Manager's brother,Jumbo. Who based himself there,with the police radio and responded to calls. He was armed with a 9mm Browning, tucked inside the right side of his belt. Under his shirt.

One night, whilst sat outside in the bar. A Immigration Officer came directly upto me. Identified himself and asked to see my visa. We went to my hotel, just 30m away. I asked him to show his ID card in front of the Reception staff. Who made a note of his name and number. (Ada Stevens.)

After ten minutes of repeatedly looking at my visa. He said ' my boss wants to see you. I'm going to have to arrest you.  You should have left a few days ago.' I told him my visa was in date and would leave when I wanted to. ( First red flag. A hotel member of staff had said almost an identical sentence to me.)

He repeated himself and then said.  Or...' you can pay for my taxi and i will leave '. That's code for give me money.  I gave him 2,000N .He left my room and I returned to my table at the bar. Jumbo was sat next to me,along with a few other locals. I was seathing,on principle. He'd either acted illegally and got money out of me. Or it was a fake ID.

Not 5 minutes later.....who walks back in the bar??? The 'immigration officer '! At that exact moment I knew it was a con. I jumped up, and shouted Jumbo.  "You're a lier and a thief'.I said to him. I said ' you are a fake '!! To which he ran...myself, Jumbo with his 9mm out and some of the bar staff in hot pursuit.

He ran straight to my hotel. How good of him. Within seconds he was on his knees. Jumbo had his 9mm Browning against his forehead. Demanding to know the truth. They spoke in tribal language. So I didn't know what was being said.  Jumbo just nodding to me and saying ' he admits it'. I took a nice big swing and slapped Ada Stevens. Aka Immigration Officer across the face with the back of my hand.

I was fuming but buzzing at the same time. As always, these things happen very quickly. Yet slowly at the same time.

(As a heads up.  I at this stage,thought he'd got a fake ID. And was a bogus Immigration Officer. )

Into the back of Jumbos Honda Accord. Me to the right of the thief. Jumbo driving.  Well...I took one look at him. And before I knew it,I'd punched him square in the face.  His lip burst,the blood splattering all over Jumbos kneck and head rest. The back of the seat and my seat. The thiefs lip completely split.

Off we went to the Calabar Police Station. 

Ooops!!! Turned out he was a genuine Immigration Officer. An official of Nigeria. But had seen my name on a hotel residents sheet in his office.  And had decided to do some private work. Using his position to exstaut money. ( Myself and jumbo both think he had a contact at the hotel. )

The 2000N went into 'Evidence'.Read beer money for the police.  The Immigration Officer tried to get out of it. But was locked up in jail for four days and released to appear in court.

Not wanting any hassle myself.  I wrote a letter to the police requesting all charges to be dropped. Which was accepted.

So just one of many incidents in one week in Calabar Nigeria.  Not all Nigerians are bad. Far from it. I didn't catch that con man. ' We ' caught him. And boy it felt good.

Remember I've crossed thirteen countries.  Two continents.  Lived in  the Sahara Desert, the jungle and the bush. All to raise awareness and donations for wounded servicemen.  Servicemen who sit in wheel chairs.

If you like what I've been doing, the sacrifices I've made....Please please please click the help for heroes logo.

Thank you

Will x