What Nigeria taught!

Going to Nigeria to see my old friend Enyi, although our friendship was a paradox of sorts, I respected his wisdom but not so much his character. We frequently conversed before I traveled to Nigeria. He quickly turned it into a treasure hunt, requesting that I see someone to pick up something then see another person to retrieve even more items to bring to him. With the opportunity of me visiting came the chance to collect things to sell from America. I then remembered he was always hustling! A little annoying, but the excitement of traveling to Africa overwhelmed the moments of being bothered by carrying extra stuff.
On the morning of my departure for Nigeria, I woke up with the reality I was going to Africa today! I took inventory of all travel essentials passport, tickets, iPod, noise-cancellation headphones, iPad, camera, and cellphone. Upon arrival at the airport and pass security, I began to listen to my iPod with no deliberate intent in mind I set it to shuffle heard a few songs then as I sat on the plane; this song began to play by Oleta Adams. “It started with we can travel to the planets. Drive a mile through solid granite. Thrive in all extremes of weather, but we cannot live together” why this song became a mantra of sorts throughout the trip. I wasn’t sure I listened to that song several times from Detroit to Germany. Perhaps, it was her speaking of travel? Although her journey seemed to be speaking more of man’s ability to make himself better, which man can’t, Jesus did! I was digesting each word as if it had some secret meaning for where I was going? How? I had never been to Nigeria, at least not the place; meeting the people told me about the place I would soon learn!
Arriving in Germany was my final opportunity to retrieve money from the ATM before heading off to Abuja. The bank gave strict instructions not to use my debit card or credit cards in Nigeria; they would be responsible they warned. I thought no big deal, but that bit of advice was telling me about the place.
Still listening to Oleta Adams sing, “we have pondered our existence. Tracked the comets in the distance, but we’re overcome with blindness by the act of human kindness.” The music is melodic; it whisked me away from the January cold of Michigan and all thoughts of work. I was taking a long journey to see an old friend in a tropical climate!
Boarding the final plane to Nigeria while still meditating on the words of the song: “We have ventured where none have gone before us, but in matters fundamental, we are patterned on an old design welcome back tyrannosaurus. Evolution is a state of mind.” The song was ministering to me in a way no song ever did or has done. The next chorus continues to illuminate my imagination: “We have filled the halls of science with the bones of mighty giants they’d been there for generations buried under our foundation.” I pondered will I be able to visit a museum in Nigeria, although the highlight for me would be to see the Niger River. The location where the slave trade started according to some books I read.
The closer I got to Nigeria, a storm started; so much rain the plane passed Abuja and went to Lago’s first, the turbulence wasn’t bad, I thought. I didn’t fear what not being able to land in Abuja might have meant. Perhaps it was the lyrics of the song that occupied my thinking; she says, “it’s a page right out of history. Everything is still a mystery. All except for one distinction, we can stop our extinction. We have set ourselves apart from all that’s gone before us, but in matters fundamental, we are victims of an old design here’s your chance tyrannosaurus maybe we can get it right this time.” The song ends with “grab a club and join the chorus evolution is a state of mind.”
Arriving late in Abuja, but glad to be off that vessel finally, quickly, the architect of the place arrested my attention to say it was dated, would be a compliment. Likened to a 1970’s movie set, and when the uniformed man asked me, “are you getting picked-up?” which I quickly replied “yes.” I stopped listening to my music and paid attention to the surroundings the people talking; there were no overheard announcements about the time zone you were in, no statements about watching your luggage. This airport had no P. A. system. After retrieving my bags with timidity, I walked through the final doors to enter that country, the ones that say, “no re-entrance.” Holding my breath and thinking, “Enyi, please be there!” the doors opened, and he was there, much taller then I remembered, but he was there, making this place less scary! We embrace, and he grabs my bags. We had a little small talk about the plane ride on the way to the hotel, excited to see the place during the daylight hours.
We arrived at the hotel. My travel exposure also dated the hotel; there were mirrors on the walls, but marble flooring. The desk clerk was very welcoming; she said, “you’re Grace nice to meet you, from America, right!” I replied, “yes, and nice to meet you also.” Enyi said this is one of the newer hotels; I thought really! But that comment constructed within me anticipation for a beautiful room. Most of my travel experiences rendered an accurate impression in the lobby about the hotel; if it is dated or gaudy, so is the rest of the establishment. The room was okay on the lower end of okay! After all day on the plane, all I wanted to do was take a shower: was a clawfoot bathtub, but longer than a standard tub, it had no tub mat; I remember thinking I don’t want to fall, and yes, I fell in that huge tub! The electricity would shut-off through the night, waking me up to the room warming because of the air conditioner shutting off. Like most third-world countries, Africa doesn’t have reliable power grid systems, which means electricity could stop working at any time.
My first day there, Enyi took me to an ice cream parlor. I asked about the museum or the zoo. He said there are none. I couldn’t believe there were no cultural activities like the zoo or museum. The following day we went to Guaraga Falls, a beautiful wonder I took several pictures from many angles. It was somewhat of a desolate place; it was only Enyi myself and the guy we paid to show up around the falls.
The next day he took me to see the Niger River on the way there, I observe a lady riding on the back of a scooter with a long weave. I thought of the cost of hair in America, and this sister had a long one I ask Enyi, “how much are the weaves here?” He said, “expensive, but women will pay.” The roads were unpaved and red like blood, and the mode of transportation was scooters very few cars. There was a cellphone booth where someone was standing with cellphones to make calls. The lady with fake hair prompted me to think about how strong vanity is giving up a lot of money to look like you have a lot of money in this underprivileged place.
We arrive at the river; the water was sitting at low tide. Enyi explained the river rise and fall depending on the season. I thought so to travel this river hundreds of years ago meant you had to know when the river was travel-ready. One of the books I read titled the Anioma talked about the slave trade and the niger river. As Enyi and I stood on the bridge, taking pictures, he began to say, “we need to get off this bridge.” I ask why; he said, “it isn’t stable,” I said, but cars are traveling on this bridge, and people were walking on the bridge he said, “this is not like America! There are no bridge repair crews or road service.” The people around the river were visibly poor washing themselves and clothes in the water. I asked Enyi are these the ancestors of the river. He said, “yes, their no migration here.” My heart got heavy, these being the descendants of the former people that enslaved and sold their neighbors to the men that came up the Niger River. Their days of prosperity were long gone!
We went to rent a car since Enyi’s car needed repairs, while at the rental place, Enyi was very nervous about parking. I thought just put money in the meter and forget about it. What I didn’t know was the parking scam issue. The politics have the country in ruins. The government gives contracts for parking enforcement to oppress the people that have cars. In that environment, it is somewhat of a luxury. For example, the parking attendant will hide to boot your car instead of issuing a ticket because to boot is more profitable, and the process involves more people, and everyone gets paid! After observing Enyi get nervous a second time, I began to gauge whether I should pay attention to our surroundings. I’ve complained about the parking attendants at home; I won’t anymore, I thought. I found a new appreciation for things I used to take for granted in America, like parking and going to the dealership to get my car serviced.
Getting Enyi’s car repaired was an all-day process. As we rode around Abuja, I observed several houses in the construction process, but the areas were unoccupied. I didn’t inquire of Enyi what it meant as he was getting frustrated about the day’s events. The people there are an indirect type to capitalize on a lack of clarity. Enyi and I arrived at the location to repair his vehicle, which looked more like a scrapyard than an auto repair business. Enyi kept trying to get a specific time on when to pick up his car. Enyi casually mentions, “we have to return to the hotel for her to catch her flight, referring to myself,” which wasn’t the case he was lying! The guy walks away and returns and says, “well, you can leave and come back.” Never giving a specific time to pick-up the car, nor mentioning transportation back to the hotel. Eventually, Enyi calls the owner of the shop, and he says he went to get some water and forgot about us needing a ride back to the hotel. That encounter caused me to reflect on many events with my ex-husband’s (born American, but grew up in Nigeria) indirectness. He would say, “I’m right around the corner,” when he was miles away, was his familiar form of Communication. I learned from him as long as you’re indirect their no accountability issues that can occur.
From my hotel room window, I saw a church meeting every day the Bible says they met daily in the book of Acts, so I thought they follow scripture here. When Enyi came to pick me up, I inquired about the church. I was curious but not curious to go anywhere alone! Abuja was not a tourist destination. Enyi said, ” the church is a social function; the churches and politics are big business here.” The social purpose of the church was what my ex-husband was about he attended church and knew the words of the Bible, but God’s name wasn’t in his heart ignorance would have religion and faith looking the same, but religion doesn’t bear the fruits of God’s love!
Enyi and I talked briefly on the triangular slave trade market. He capitalized more on how it started with sugar cane and molasses and not his past time rants on how African Americans are lazy. More of our conversations covered in my book Journey In Grace-chapter 36, releasing soon through covenant books. Nigeria taught me to appreciate America sure it’s flawed, but most of our tax dollars work for safe roads, and we have in most cities a sanitation system. The city planners put drains in place for heavy rains.
The people in Nigeria acted like their leadership, and wherever they go, they get their hustle on meaning they live in a consciousness of always needing to be making money. It’s a scared man’s attitude. Associations with the poor have never taken man to a wealthy place. God has not given a spirit of fear, but of power and love and a sound mind (2 Tim. 1:7) the earth is the Lords, and the fullness thereof (1 Cor. 10:26) God promises to keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on Thee (Isa. 26:3) keeping your eye on money; how to make it, how to get more always money, the money will leave you empty God created man for so much more than the temporary things of this earth. Make Him Father God, your daily association. God gave His best Jesus Christ, and He died you. Anything you can request of Father God is less then what he has already given.