Nigerian Catnip

I think this is what I am. Another one has appeared at our door. She arrived in our compound on Friday night. She must be lost as she seems well looked after, tame, and very affectionate. And very very hungry. I’ve been feeding her morning and night – Squirt won’t be impressed, her cat food supply is fast depleting. I think the people on our compound think I am insane. We came in late on Friday night (Saturday morning really) and she was howling outside, so our security guard found me curled up on our outside stairs in my pyjamas at 5am with the cat on my lap. He just shook his head at me, smiled in a sad sort of way (as if to say “poor girl, she’s clearly insane but no one has the heart to tell her”) and went back into his room. Then last night I was trying to get her settled in a box in an area underneath our stairs, so that she could have somewhere quiet and dark to sleep, as she just seems to be roaming around endlessly at night howling. The person that lives in the flat next to where I was came home to find me bent over some old boxes in a dark corridor, seemingly talking to myself (the cat disappeared when he walked up). He asked what I was doing, but I didn’t want to admit to harbouring a stray cat outside his front door, so I just said “nothing, just looking for something.” So he also gave me a strange look and went inside.

It’s not just the people in our compound who think I’m insane either; it’s potentially our entire neighbourhood. I’ve been trying to find who she belongs to, so I’ve put her photo on Abuja expat sites and mailing lists, and I got the vet to put a poster up in his surgery. I printed some posters out, and begged another (very kind) volunteer to come with me to stick them up. Potentially the most embarrassing two hours I’ve had since arriving in Nigeria. People just could not understand what we were doing. Half the problem was that the poster was in English, and most of the people we encountered could only read/speak Hausa, so trying to explain what the poster said was a nightmare. At one point a man at the market said “Ahaaaaaa” and I thought finally, someone understands, and then he said “you want to sell the cat?” Noooooooo!!! So the search for her owners continues. I’m trying to be practical, it’s bankrupting me just taking one cat home with me, let alone two. So I can't take her into our flat as it would be cruel to get her settled knowing that I'll have to leave her behind in a few months time. Squirt seems entirely disinterested in the whole thing, even when she can hear Cat 2 howling outside she doesn’t bat an eyelid. She’s obviously worked out she’s on the right side of our front door.

So if anyone wants to adopt a lovely Nigerian cat, please let me know. I’ll even throw in a couple of tins of top quality Nigerian cat food.

Strikes, dead monkeys and malaria (again)

So it’s been a fun filled two weeks. After 6 days of strikes, life slowly started to return to normal (or as normal as things ever are here). As things go, the strikes weren’t that much fun. There’s something slightly unsettling about having everything come to a complete standstill. There was no public transport, nothing was open (apart from the small shop at the bottom of our road, thankfully) and all the cash machines ran out of money (not that anything was open for people to spend their money on). However I was reliably informed that whilst most of the country seemed to grind to a halt, beer was delivered to our local bar each day. At least they have their priorities straight. One good thing about the strike is that it meant a lot more volunteers than normal were in Abuja, so it was good to have the opportunity to see people I don’t normally get to see. We did manage to do some fun things during the strike:

• Went swimming and for brunch at a posh compound down the road from us (I think the person that invited us felt sorry for us and could tell we hadn’t had running water for a very long time, so would benefit from being submerged in a swimming pool).
• Went on a ‘pub crawl’ in the area around where we live.
• Making fajitas (with real cheese and everything).
• Being lazy at the British Village (although they chose the week of the strike to shut their showers – the week when we had absolutely no running water).

And an update on the monkey that tried to eat us: the morning after that incident, we heard a hideous animal noise coming from outside (poor Squirt wasn’t taking any chances and went to hide deep inside my wardrobe as she could tell something wasn’t going well for the animal concerned). We looked outside, only to see a group of men with big sticks standing around beating the monkey. They then dragged the (slightly stiller) monkey outside our compound, and I’m not sure what happened to it next. But when we asked the Security guy later what had happened to the monkey, I distinctly heard the words “chop, later, chop”. When I asked again, he said, “Monkey set to run free. Smaller baby monkey coming tomorrow. This will be friendly monkey.” I somehow doubt that being bludgeoned with sticks by a group of men was a precursor to the evil monkey being “set free”. I’m yet to see the new monkey. I think I’ll avoid it for as long as possible, happy things don’t seem to happen around these monkeys.

And then after the strike, just as I was thinking how nice it was to be back at work, I got malaria. Again. So all in all, not a great start to 2012.

Cabin fever and being chased by rabid monkeys

Day 1 of the strike and it got to 1pm and I was climbing the walls. I learnt that playing scrabble by yourself isn’t much fun and even Squirt got sick of my fidgeting and went to lie down in a quiet place where I couldn’t disturb her. Thankfully electricity then came on so I could charge my laptop and at least do some work. By 5pm I needed some fresh air so my roommate and I went downstairs to take out the rubbish and to buy a soft drink. I’ve mentioned before that there is a monkey that lives in our compound that is tied up by a piece of rope as long as my arm. I also previously mentioned that I felt sorry for this monkey. I would now like to take back that statement. As we went downstairs I saw the monkey sat on the step to the security guard’s room, off his rope. I stupidly thought that as he was off his rope he must be friendly, and didn’t really worry about the fact that he was there. But then before I could say “roast monkey” the monkey started hissing and running towards me. The security guard managed to get between me and the monkey, but only for a few seconds before the monkey ran around him. I tried standing still in the hope he would get bored, but no, so I had no option but to try and get out of his way, and fast. But it turns out monkeys can run a hell of a lot faster than I can. My roommate and I tried running out of the compound but the monkey got to us first, and it turns out I’m a terrible human being because my instinct wasn’t to protect her, but to hide behind her and make sure she was directly between me and the monkey. The things we learn about ourselves when we’re forced to go into survival mode. Thankfully before the monkey was able to actually make contact the security guard managed to restrain it, and we ran away somewhat more terrified than we had been before. So it seems that VSO were right to advise us not to go outside, but it wasn’t the strike that put us at risk, it was the beast of a monkey living outside our front door.

Hibernation anyone?

No blog posts for ages and then two in as many days. I’ve had to do something very rare for me today and use my brain. On statistics. For 8 hours in a row. So now I’m too brain dead to concentrate on anything else apart from writing another waffle filled blog entry.

I’m not particularly looking forward to Monday. I mentioned in my last post that the government here have removed the fuel subsidy. It would be an understatement to say that this move has not been well received. Previous governments have tried it in the past but backed down in the face of widespread public outrage. But not only have they removed the fuel subsidy, they did it overnight without actually putting in place any measures to lessen the impact, and so overnight fuel prices doubled. And now slowly but surely other prices are rising as well as a result of the increased fuel costs. So there are people who can’t afford to get to work. The roads in Abuja are eerily quiet. We’re lucky; we live in the “centre” (I use inverted commas as Abuja doesn’t actually seem to have any centre, but the point is we live close to our office). The majority of my colleagues live on the very outskirts of Abuja. Doubling their transport costs to work is no small thing. The government also chose to do this on the 1st January when goodness knows how many people were trying to travel back home from wherever they spent Christmas, meaning people were stranded as they couldn’t afford the new cost of transport back to wherever they live. The government have now said they’ll buy 1600 buses to try and help improve the public transport system in Nigeria, but for a population this size, that’s not going to do much. Well, not unless each bus is going to carry about 100,000 people. It’s also not going to do much about the increased cost of everything else other than fuel. And whilst the government have said that the money saved on the fuel subsidy will be spent on other things, such as the electricity supply, education and healthcare, given the levels of corruption in the government here, they’re going to have to actually prove that before people start to believe it. So people are fed up. Many people saw the fuel subsidy as one of the few benefits offered to them by the government, and now even that is gone.

Anyway, the point is there has now been a nationwide strike announced for Monday 9th January. An indefinite nationwide strike. For all offices, oil production centres, air and sea ports, fuel stations, markets, banks and shops. Oh goody. So for us VSOs who aren’t allowed to be involved in any public protests/rallies/crowds (or actually go to any public event, gathering or outing if you follow the advice from the latest email received from them – I must remember to ask them to clarify this before I leave here. I’d find it a little difficult to exist here without ever going anywhere public. Sadly Tescos haven’t yet started delivering to Nigeria) this means an indefinite stay at home. Anyone who knows me will know that this is likely to drive me insane. During the elections we were meant to stay indoors from Friday evening through to Sunday morning, and even that sent me stir crazy. Combine that with the fact that if there’s a strike then they’re unlikely to turn our water supply back on on Monday morning, and this makes for a particularly miserable prospect. The press release from the unions advises people to stock up on basic essentials including food and water. But unless we want to exist indefinitely on packet noodles, it’s not actually that easy to stockpile large amounts of fresh produce in 38 degree heat without it going off pretty quickly. But I will follow their advice and stock up on cat food. And maybe I should also quickly take up knitting or sudoku.

Carnivals, long bus journeys, Christmas by the pool and lots more fun things

After an awesome Christmas break, the majority of which was spent in Calabar, I’m back to the real world. It was great to go back to Calabar, and lots of volunteers went there for the holidays so there were lots of us around to make the most of having the time off work. We did too much to fit into this blog post without making it very long, but here are some highlights:

• Making our own Christmas decorations – they wouldn’t win any awards, but it was fun all the same. I even sewed for the first time in about 15 years.
• Christmas Day – first Christmas away from home, and whilst I got a bit teary when I skyped home and saw everyone opening their stockings and having Christmas dinner, overall it was an awesome day. Lots of people, lots of lovely food, and lots of fun, topped off with karaoke in the evening.
• Boxing Day by the swimming pool – not how I’m used to spending December 26th, but definitely something I could get used to (especially as it also included pizza).
• Calabar Carnival – it would have been worth the 16 + hour journey to Calabar (turns out the 23rd December is not a good day to travel long distances in Nigeria!) just for the Carnival – it was AWESOME. And we truly made the most of it. From 10am through till 5am the next day. Although my body the next day disagreed, I’m definitely getting too old for late nights (or early mornings).
• Playing Percy Pig versus Colin Caterpillar Snakes and Ladders – best Christmas present EVER.
• Calabar Christmas Village – it never shuts. For 31 days in December it is open 24 hours a day. And we definitely made the most of its crazy opening hours.
• Fried yam at my favourite fried yam place in Nigeria.
• Just being back in Calabar, I think I will always prefer it to Abuja.

My journey back was interesting. I stupidly traveled on the 2nd January, after the Nigerian government removed the fuel subsidy on the 1st January. But having had no access to news etc, I didn’t realise any of this until arriving at the bus park on Monday morning at 6am. We had to wait until 8.30am to leave because they couldn’t find fuel to put in the bus. And that continued for the whole of the journey, it was a nightmare. I was very glad to get back and cuddle Squirt quickly before passing out.

And now it’s already January and my original departure date of February looms. I can’t believe that this time a year ago I was having what can only be described as major doubts about coming to Nigeria. Friends and family know that there are some parts of my time here that haven’t exactly gone as planned (!). It’s been the craziest and most unsettled year of my life, but despite that, I wouldn’t change my decision to come here for anything.

And so it’s looking like I might be extending my placement for a bit longer. Yes, I know, I’m a lunatic. But whilst parts of me yearn to return to a quiet life, where I can be sure of a hot shower, nice food and comfortable bed, without the fear of cockroaches crawling over me in my sleep, a bigger part of me isn’t quite ready to return to the real world of UK winters, and trying to find a job just yet. Although with Nigeria seeming to make a more regular appearance in the national and international media as the days go on, who knows what the future holds. But for now, Squirt and I will be staying (and my decision has absolutely NOTHING to do with the fact that if I stay until May/June I’ll have time to get all Squirts inoculations and blood tests done meaning she can avoid having to go into quarantine when she gets to the UK. That would be a crazy reason to extend my placement).

Do they know it's Christmas time at all...

I know that most of my blog updates make little mention of some of the more ‘real’ aspects of life here. The situations that come at you like a kick in the stomach and make you realise just how lucky you are. And it’s not that I don’t encounter these situations frequently. It’s more that I try not to dwell on them, or not on my blog anyway. But this is going to be an exception.

On Friday I went to an orphanage in Abuja with a group of teachers from a school here, who have been visiting the orphanage for a couple of years now. And boy oh boy. The staff do their best - the children are clean and they don’t go hungry. There are about 30 children, most of them under the age of 3, and they all sleep in one room. And from what I could gather, they also spend pretty much all day, every day, in that room – apart from a few of the older ones who are able to open the door and go outside themselves. But for the younger ones, the staff can’t cope with taking them outside – one or two toddlers is enough of a handful, but 20 of them? Not easy. I even wonder how much time the smaller ones get to spend out of their beds. There were several very young babies. I picked up a baby when I got there because she was screaming, and I couldn’t put her down until I left because she just wouldn’t stop crying. I don’t think she was very well; she had a really chesty cough and seemed very hot, but unfortunately there doesn’t seem to be easily accessible medical care for the children there. And as they also haven’t had immunisations, and all sleep together in one very hot room, my guess is they get sick pretty frequently.

But if there was to be one positive, it would be that you can see how much the children love having the teachers going there each week. They were telling me that when they first started going it was really difficult to get the children to play with each other, because as soon as they were given a toy they would just want to run off with it and keep it for themselves, but now they do play with one another, and have learnt how to cooperate with each other (most of the time!). And some of the older ones were so desperate to learn, there were some foam letters, and one little girl just wanted me to teach her the alphabet the entire time I was there.

You could also see how much the community tries to help out, as just in the few hours we were there, about 5 or 6 people came through the gate to bring food for the children. Unfortunately what they need more than anything (apart from medical care) are people to go in there and just spend time with the children. So I’m going to go back each week. I don’t know how much good it will do, but it will at least mean that for an extra few hours there’s someone there playing with them and talking to them and just giving them some attention, which they are all so desperately lacking.

(And don’t worry mum, Squirt is proving enough of a challenge as it is. I appreciate that I can’t bring 30 children home with me)

Broken laptops, carnivals and two suitcases of cat food

It’s been a busy few weeks. I had a lovely two weeks at home. Lots of eating was done, and I returned to Nigeria with about 20kg of cat food for my little monkey who had grown considerably in my absence. I had a slight disaster in my first week back in that some water got spilt on my laptop at work and it immediately stopped working. It’s worth mentioning that I’m a fool who brought an Apple Mac to Nigeria with me. No one here uses macs, so trying to get it fixed was an absolute mission. I was helping to run some monitoring and evaluation training for VSO partners last week, and all of my presentations for this training were only saved on my laptop (this would be the one week when I hadn’t backed up my work). I tried leaving it to dry for 24 hours. No luck. I went to the Apple Shop in Abuja, also no luck. After sitting waiting for two hours I was told that their technician was in India until January. They gave me the address of a man I was told to go and see in a shopping complex here. This address consisted of 2 letters and 2 numbers. I got to the shopping complex, and spent the next hour trying to find the place. The complex was huge, with a rabbit warren of tiny little shops up numerous dark and creepy staircases. Most of the shops didn’t have names and only had the 4 digits above the doors, only they obviously weren’t in alphabetical or numerical order because that would have been far too easy. After eventually finding it, I realised the shop was locked up. I called the guy and was told he was “coming”. It was very very hot, and so I went to sit in the clothing shop next door where the woman was doing her very best to fall asleep, but was then disturbed by the irritating white woman who insisted on sitting there and talking to her for the next hour whilst waiting for the man to show up. By the time he arrived I was fast losing patience as I had spent the best part of the day sitting and waiting. He seemed to think he could fix it though (for an extortionate amount of money) and so I left it with him, after getting him to confirm about 10 times that if it wasn’t fixed I wouldn’t have to pay him any money. So the next day I went back to get it, and it worked! I was very excited. I won’t be able to afford food for the foreseeable future, but my laptop is at least working. Liquids will never be allowed near it again.

Jenny then arrived so it was great seeing her again, and then another VSO from Kaduna also came to stay for the weekend. We went to the Abuja Carnival, which helped to highlight once again one of the reasons why Nigeria does not have a booming tourism industry. We couldn’t find any information about the carnival route anywhere, and so after asking a friend we went to wait on one of the main roads in Abuja to see what happened. The carnival was meant to start at 7am. We got there at 12.30pm and were told it hadn’t yet started, but still couldn’t find out any information on the actual route the parade would follow. I have no idea what was happening on this particular day, normally I think I successfully give off a vibe of “please leave me alone” but this can’t have been the case on this Saturday, as I was targeted by people throughout the day. First of all we got accosted by a group of people who were representing a youth organisation, who wanted us to wear their t-shirts for the day and join in their parade. We managed to escape after being subjected to numerous video interviews and photos. We did get to keep the t-shirts though. We then went to sit back on the side of the road and wait. An old man came to sit down next to me. “Next to me” is a slight understatement; he was in distinct danger of sitting on my lap if he sat any closer. I couldn’t see what he was doing as I was sat with my back to him, but I could feel movements that made me feel distinctly uncomfortable, and so after some frantic communication via eye and head gestures, I got up and went to sit next to Jenny. Much to the amusement of everyone else, after about 10 seconds he then said he also needed to move because of “ants”, and once again came to sit pretty much on my lap. So off we walked again. Thankfully he then seemed to get the message.

Eventually the carnival started. Overall it was a really good day. The costumes were awesome, as were most of the floats (apart from one that looked scarily like it may ignite at any moment).

I did however feel immense pity for the people in the parade as it was very hot and they had to cover a distance of 18km. You could see some of them really wished they were anywhere else. I also lost count of how many photos I had to be in. At one point I was in very real danger of being dragged to be a part of the parade itself, but thankfully I managed to avoid that.

And now there’s less than two weeks left before the office closes for Christmas. And having brought back the best Christmas hat in the world from home (it sings AND dances) I am very excited about the prospect of my first sunny Christmas.