Ela The Great

Just before I left Edinburgh for Lagos last summer I met the wonderful Natalie Ghazi in a coffee shop in Glasgow.  I liked her instantly.  She was heading back to Lagos for her fourth year and worked in my school.  She wasn’t going to be around for my first week in Lagos so arranged for her partner Ela to meet me on my first day and show me around.

Ela did this.  He picked me up and took me round the local sights, for some Nigerian cuisine and even to his mum’s house!  He really helped me settle in a country which was, and still is, totally mental in my eyes.  He helped me see Nigeria as a fun place I would enjoy living in.

Natalie and Ela have been my ‘besties’ this year.  They have allowed me to tag along to almost every night out, have dragged me out of my house when I’ve been having one of my ‘I want to be alone’ weeks and have put up with my constant questions, insecurities and naivety.  They are good people. 

Today Ela left.  He has managed to secure a place at university in the UK for a year to complete his masters.  He won’t be back for a while.  The next chapter of Natela is beginning.  I’m so glad to have had Ela around for the last year and I’m going to miss him loads.  I wish him every success and all the love in the world.  Good things happen to good people.

Lagos Caledonian Society

I joined this organisation with the aim of meeting some new people and having access to a group of wealthy expats who would look after me should I require assistance – something you have to think about when living in Nigeria.  I paid my member ship fee, filled in my form and went to their St Andrew’s Ceilidh.  Yes you heard me – a ceilidh in Lagos.  It was great fun.  They hire a band called ‘Callanish’ who fly out all the way from Edinburgh to play into the wee hours for anyone who is willing to pay the £70 ticket price for a night out.

I thought this would be the extent of my involvement with the society.  After all you don’t leave Scotland and set up shop in Africa to then spend all your time with Scottish people. However, somehow I have become part of their charities commission.  It turns out that all the money raised from the Caledonian events goes to charity; they make no profit.

Over the last few months my friend Natalie and I have been responsible for finding, visiting and working with possible charities to whom the LCS can donate their money.  It has been an amazing journey so far.  We have found seven very worthy and needy organised charities who support various groups of people in and around Lagos.  Most of the charities we are drawn to are those who support children.

Last Wednesday we helped organise a ‘Sponsor’s Night’, where all of our charities were able to speak in front of the people who give money to LCS.  It was a success and all of the presentations were truly inspiring and touching.  Hopefully we were able to encourage more sponsorship and larger donations.  I’m feeling happy that I’ve been able to make a contribution to their work.  There are so many needy people out here in Lagos and without an NHS or welfare state people do die  So far we have been able to donate around £20’000 between the seven charities and there is much more to give.

A Question of Faith

Nigeria is a deeply religious country.  There are very few here who would call themselves atheist or admit to having no faith in God.  I didn’t think my lack of religion would have an impact on my relationships here but it seems it is another factor which makes me different and slightly odd in the eyes of Nigerian society.

I work in a Christian school (St Saviour’s) but my religion was never discussed at interview or at any time throughout the recruitment process so I presumed it wasn’t a big deal.  All of the Nigerian staff have a strong faith in God.  Every staff meeting is opened and closed with a prayer.  Prayers are said for people who are sick or troubled or who need a break.  Prayers are not quiet, personal or reflective.  They are loud, shared as a group and often make me giggle – which is obviously totally inappropriate.  

In getting to know my colleagues and gradually sharing more about myself, people have become more aware of my lack of religious persuasion or faith.  When my classroom assistant and friend Shola realised - she was horrified and worried about me.  She tried to persuade me to come to church and practically begged me to reconsider my opinions.  She was truly concerned about me like I had just told her I was addicted to drugs or that I was doing something illegal.  

My Scottish colleague had a similar experience.  At the end of term, just before leaving for summer break she was given a card from her classroom assistant.  It told her how wonderful and inspiring she was and how much fun it had been working with her BUT her life would never be complete unless she embraced God.  It doesn’t seem to be enough that we are nice people; we should attend church and pray to God as well.

I don’t know why but it always surprises me when young people are deeply religious.  I tend to associate blind faith with older folk.  Many Nigerians drinking alcohol and socialising on a weekend are avid church goers too and despite being fashionable, cool, witty, having casual relationships, drinking a little too much etc.  etc. etc. they are actually quite conservative when it comes to matters of faith.  I don’t have a problem with any of this fundamentally but just find it all rather odd and a little hypocritical.  

I’ve realised that I’m a little prejudiced towards very religious people.  I’m sceptical and suspicious and wonder why people don’t ask the obvious questions about the bible, science, the universe.

I once read that religion has a lot to do with belonging and the human need for community and companionship in shared ideals.  I believe that people also need a faith in something more than just themselves.  People like to think someone is looking after them and that life is not just luck and science and chance.  The opinions parents pass down to their children play a large role in how people view faith as they age – my parents were not particularly religious and encouraged me question what I was told and we didn’t go to church except for weddings, christenings and funerals.  Hence my lack of enthusiasm now.  However, I don’t think this is the only factor contributing to religious belief.

In the UK and other countries where there are institutions like the welfare state and NHS I think people need religion less.  It is easier to have faith in fellow human beings.  If you have an accident or require assistance in any way there is always someone coming to give you the help you need. If you have a mental illness; people recognise it and treat you with medicine.  If you’re in a dire financial situation and can’t feed your children – someone else will.  In Nigeria, often, there is no one coming to help.  If you have a car accident an ambulance isn’t going to speed through traffic with a siren to ensure your life doesn’t end before it’s supposed to. 

 I heard a story recently about a woman who was pregnant with twins and already had four children.  Her husband abandoned her as they were poor and he couldn’t be bothered trying to support his family any more.  She and her children would have almost certainly died if a local charity hadn’t stepped in and provided her with money for rent and food.  I’m sure many others aren’t quite as lucky.  Another story I was told was about a husband who had to beg his (expat) employer for money after his wife went into labour but had complications.  She required an operation but didn’t have any money to pay for it so was asked to leave the hospital.  The employee told his boss that she had been put in a chair outside the hospital and left to die because her baby was breach.  The employer asked took pity and gave the employee £500 to pay for the operation so his wife and baby survived but had he not been in a position to then they would have actually died.  

To me these situations are disgusting; especially in a country where huge profits are made from oil and people pay their taxes.  Nigerian folks cannot have faith in their fellow man or government so I can understand there must be a deep need to have faith in a higher power.  That at least someone is looking out for them and will keep them from harm. 

Bassey Ikpi

I saw this lady perform her poetry on Friday evening.  I went to a poetryslam thingy at which many up and coming poets shared their work and competed for a prize.  After listening for hours to the amatuers this lady finally graced the stage.  She was truly inspiring and a cut above the rest.  Her poems are moving, unusual and cool.  Look her up.

Lagos Living

I think the general perception of Nigeria is bad.  When I told people I was moving here from Scotland they were puzzled, asked me why and I suspect conjured up images of poverty, police brutality and scams.

These things do exist but my life here is sweet.  Last weekend and this weekend I went to the beach. It's very chilled out.  I spent the days drinking beer, sunbathing, eating freshly caught fish, listening to music and laughing.

Congratulations You're So Fat

In the UK it's complimentary to tell someone they look well especially if they have lost a bit of weight or look like they have been going to the gym.  It's also a taboo to tell someone they look fat or fatter.  FACT.  I like this system.  It keeps me happy.

In Nigeria THE COMPLETE OPPOSITE is true.  It is complimentary to tell a person they are looking quite fat.  The more you like someone the more you tell them.  I do not like this system.  It makes me cry.

Since my Nigerian colleagues like me so much and were all happy to see me back at school I received an abundance of abuse as I walked through the doors on the frst day of term.  'Compliments' ranged from 'oh wow you're so fat' to 'well done Laura, your father fed you well'.  One teacher stopped me, circled me then looked me in the eye and told me how good I looked for adding some weight.  My personal favourite was when the admin manager walked up to me, grabbed my cheeks (face cheeks) and said 'ohhhhhhhh chubby chubby' in a voice fit for a two year old.

The worst of it is I havn't put on any weight! 

Lost Luggage

So I spent the summer in Edinburgh with my family.  I had a blast, recharged my (metaphorical) batteries and made some beautiful memories with my nearest and dearest.  After about six weeks of unemployment, stuffing my face with food, drinking cocktails and beer by the gallon and living in my Dad's house I was, unbelievably, just about ready to resume my residency in Lagos.  I was in fact even a little excited about starting my second year.  The preparations began and I shopped ridiculously; spending my hard earned cash on everything, from my favourite foods to outfits for every eventuality.  I ended up with four bulging cases!  I collected more of my favourite books and films.  I stocked up on toiletries, candles, bedsheets, towels, shower curtains, washing baskets . . . . . . . the list goes on.  I got carried away.

The time came to leave my folks and friends.  Instead of the huge entourage I usually have at the airport, this time it was just my Dad and his partner Sylvia.  They are truly the sweetest people.  My Dad lugged all my cases about the airport, Sylvia waited in the line with me, they 'helped' me check in (because apparently I can't do it myself) and then milled about until it was time for goodbyes.  I hate goodbyes.  They feel so sad.  Even though I'm an old hand at this now I still feel the lump forming in my throat and the aching feeling at the back of my jaw.  I managed through security with no tears even though I know my Dad finds it hard and hangs around for a while just in case I change my mind and come running back through the gates, Hollywood style.

Arriving in Lagos and making it through the airport without too much hastle is not an easy thing to achieve.  You have to make it down the escalator which doesn't work, you have to wait in a looooooong line of people to have your passport checked by officials, you have to listen to the female personnel shouting at and man handling Nigerians who aren't doing exactly as they're told.  You also have to show your passport to many people who are all scanning your papers for the slightest error in the hope they can extort a little cash from you in exchange for not giving you any wahala.  If you get through the first lot of security unscathed you then have to face the luggage belts.  No signs tell you which belt to stand at so it's really a matter of luck.  I find that hovering in the middle of the room and then pouncing from afar is a good strategy.  After finding your luggage you have to run the gauntlet of 'security officials' waiting by the exits.  They are hungry for fresh meat and home in on expats like flies to shit.  Luckily I have not had to open my cases yet (lucky for me as they are usually full of black pudding, haggis and tattie scones).  Show a yellow fever card, zoom through the doors your home safe - ish.

This time round I was not lucky.  I managed to get through passport control and waited on my luggage as usual but two hours later I was still there, alone and unhappy waiting for my four suitcases filled with my oh so precious belongings.  No one helped me.  I was told my name wasn't on any magic list from BA to say they had my things and the realisation fell on my head and pushed me to the ground.  I wept then, just slightly.  One salty trickle of water escaped from my eye and made its way down my face and neck.  I was mourning my shower curtains and my outfits and my tattie scones.  Horribly it occurred to me how much money I had wasted on it all and how ridiculous I had been to buy a lot of junk that I truly don't need.  If I never saw those cases again my life wouldn't end.  I wouldn't die just because I had to wear the same pair of pants for a week.  My life wouldn't change.  I would still be me.  I would still be healthy.  Poor and smelly but healthy.  I realised I am not my possessions I am more than the things I own.  I am Laura with or without seventeen pairs of shoes.

So I gave the BA rep my details and left the airport considerably lighter than expected.  What a start!