The fragrant memories of Nigeria

by Sripathy Jayamaha

In 1981 I was on a KLM flight to Nigeria on a Federal Government assignment. It is a vastly populated country in a continent that God is supposed to have created in anger. The legendary river Niger and the Cross River flow into the Atlantic Ocean. The rivers are bifurcated into many tributaries. It is a sight to behold. My family was to join me later.

I was at the magnificent Murutala Mohammed Airport. It is one of the largest and best equipped airports in Africa. The domestic airport took passengers to the state capitals.

My fairly large bag had not accompanied me. The airline personnel requested me to check with them the next day. I was an angry and scared man in the Darkest continent. My bag had not been traced. They had checked with Colombo, Bombay (Mumbai) Nairobi and New Yorka I was requested to fill a form. I filled it with a heavy heart giving the items, quantity and value of the contents.

In the last line I mentioned the types of condiments packed by my wife. In the space for value I wrote, these items were packed by my wife with lots of love amidst tears and care. It cannot be valued in monetary terms.

I put a dash in the 'amount' column. The hefty African officer read it, stood up and took my hand. "Sir" he said, "I am very much moved by what you have written. I will jot down my comments and rush it to New York."

Impression

Three weeks later I received a letter from KLM/Headquarters. "Enclosed is a draft. The highest amount paid for a past baggage claim.

We have considered your last items as the most valuable. Please accept our 'check' with love. Fly KLM."

How I loved that airline. That was my first impression in a country we were pampered and accepted for four years.

Twelve Sri Lankans were working for a Federal Government authority, in fisheries, veterinary and engineering projects in the Cross River state by the Atlantic Ocean. Eight were stationed in different parts of the state. Four were in Calabar, the state capital. Quarters and office rooms were in keeping with one's designation. These facilities were under construction.

We were temporarily lodged in the authority-run guest house at their expense. The hotel bill was more than the salary. The management issued air tickets for the families via Amsterdam. (Colombo Amsterdam - Lagos) to avoid further baggage losses. It was a beautiful gesture indeed.

Quarters comprised three bedrooms, an air-conditioned parlour, wall to wall carpeting A/C master bedroom, double door fridge and massive cooker-cum-oven.

Quarters

Boys quarters was for either the driver or house boy. This was a dainty single roomed house situated about 50 metres from the house. The standard items in an office of any person holding my designation was A/C room, wall-to-wall carpetting, mini-fridge and coffee table with divan and two chairs.

Also there were a filter and a cupboard. Officers stationed outside the city were provided with Peugeot pickups with driver.

A 504 station wagon was assigned to me with an ever smiling chauffeur who thought that speeding on slippery wet roads reduces fuel consumption. There were no running charts. Petrol was poured into authority vehicles from buckets.

No retreading or cleaning of platinum points in distributors and spark plugs. We moved into our brand new quarters with our families.

Sri Lankans stationed out of the headquarters met at the monthly meeting. Ten o'clock break comprised sandwiches, chicken drumsticks and a bottle of beer. Lunch was served around 4 p.m. At times a massive dust cloud covers the sky. It is called 'Hammatan' which starts from the Sahara desert. It disrupts air traffic. 'Hammatan' glides into the Atlantic, making its tiny' dust like particles, a manure par excellence.

Vegetables

The tiny plot by our quarters had a never ending production of Bandakka (ladies fingers), spinach, long, beans, capsicum and tomatoes and green leaves (keeray). It made even the water close to the Nugerian coastline abundant with fish four shovelfuls of huge prawns cost around Rs. 35.

Massive traffic snarls were common. Vendors speaking impeccable English walk from vehicle to vehicle selling the best of imported whisky, gin and wines, at prices below shop prices.

Aba was a shoppers' paradise. It was at the crossroads to Port Harcourt from where one could see off-shore oil rigs spurting out the world's best sulphur free crude oil. Calabar and the fabric city of Anusha Aba was a mini city selling super class electronic equipment, stereo set-ups, exquisite pyrex ware, sewing machines, UK made toys and ornaments.

Our women folk were using pyrex and corning bowls as finger bowls. Only in Nigeria. Citizens were given a thorough education in English and in their own dialect.

Roman letters were used in their printed materials. Many schools had large playgrounds. When our cleaning maid was asked why she had not come for two days, she said, "I was indisposed, Maam.

A bout of malaria from that pesky Anopheles. Again, from a young person known to our driver "Can I alight near the omnibus halt, Sir? Thank you." No 'Kadu', but impeccable Shakespearean English. Life went on, laughing, joking and singing with our lovely African brothers and sisters.

Of course, we were leagues behind when it came to singing.

The hospitals were spotlessly clean. Only expatriates underwent caesarean operations. Nigerian mothers were out of their maternity beds two to three days after leaving the maternity section, cuddling their bright eyed, curly haired, chubby bundles of joy taking their fill from never-ending source of material sustenance.

Powdered milk was only for expatriates. Our Nigerian friends had no need for dentists. They had a flawless set of pure white teeth. Only we went to the dentists!

One day a very popular newscaster was announcing the election results from Lagos. It was absolutely sure opposition seat. The ruling party candidate had won by a massive majority.

The announcer looked at the viewers. "This is all nonsense", he said while placing the result sheet on the desk and walking away.

We were stunned. It was a fairytale that could happen only in a so-called, tribal, uncivilised country. The announcer was there the next night reading the day's news from the capital. Such things could only happen in Nigeria.

We still remember Nigeria's fauna, flora and smiling people. I think it is one of God's most beloved of continents.