My Nigeria…

A Journey Through Time

Pendulum By Dele Momodu, Email: delemomodu@thisdayonline.com, 10.03.2008, Thisday

I  eventually landed in Sydney, Australia, yesterday, depending on where you live. This was a journey that originated from London Heathrow in the evening of October 1, and ended in the afternoon of October 3, Australian time. I had psyched myself to the highest level before embarking on this audacious trip. I thought I had conquered the pains of long-distance and time-changing flights but not this one. For the first time in my long list of marathon trips around the world, I definitely felt intimidated by this epic journey through different time zones.

Australia was always capable of throwing the most adventurous traveler off-balance. I had read and heard so much about this great and unique country. Indeed, it had become a dream for me to conquer Australia. It was always a matter of when and not a matter of if I’ll ever go there. As fate would have it, Ovation had been encouraged by The Heart of Africa Project of the Federal Ministry of Information to undertake a most ambitious project on Nigeria’s contributions to the world, in terms of human resources, in a five-volume collector’s item to be released soon, in our easy to read style. In over twelve years, we have traveled extensively in order to identify, and celebrate those great Nigerian men and women who would never be promoted on the covers of Hello, OK, GQ, Fortune, and the likes.

Examples abound about how Nigerians have conquered territories, and have projected our country in positive light, despite the stereotypical mindsets of the Western media that only find us worthy of attention in matters of poverty, diseases, fraud and drug trafficking. We were pleasantly surprised to discover such great Nigerians in every facet of human endeavour. In America, we met and celebrated many Nigerian doctors, singers, nurses, lawyers, property dealers, academics, bankers, engineers, scientists, writers, teachers, administrators, athletes and sportsmen and women, business tycoons, traders, politicians, social crusaders, and others. In Britain, and indeed all over Europe, we met Nigerian men and women contributing their substantial quota to the economy of Great Britain, and Europe at large. We enjoyed the same experience in nearly sixty countries covered. We met Nigerians in the smallest countries in the world, and they were as proud as the peacock. Nigerians were found to be brilliant, hard-working, ambitious, God-fearing, and largely patriotic. Nigerians abroad helped in stabilizing the Nigerian economy, and the lives of their extended families back home by remitting billions of Dollars to their loved ones through Western Union and Moneygram.

The more we came in contact with the superlative achievements of Nigerians, the more imperative it became to challenge the criminalization of, and arrest of Nigerians at most airports, as instant and prime suspects. We are not saying there were no terrible Nigerians. Many of them litter everywhere like pure water sachets. Some have convinced themselves that they can only survive on the proceeds of crime, and are unwilling to try other options. But majority of Nigerians are breaking major barriers to emerge world players. There were those who have cleaned up their acts by abandoning criminal activities for a cleaner existence. This is why we decided to expand our scope to those areas we never thought Nigerians existed in large numbers.

The journey to Australia started like a joke. A young Nigerian, Wale Olaitan, had responded to my column in THISDAY from Australia. I was moved to reply him based on his comments, and the sentiments he expressed. I had asked him what he was doing in that far-flung Continent, and I was very shocked when he informed me there were so many Nigerians like him doing their best as worthy ambassadors of our great nation. I decided to involve him in our research. As time progressed, and word spread to other Nigerians that I was interested in what Nigerians were up to in Australia, I received a letter from Mr. Yusuf Abubakar, President of the Nigerian Society of Victoria, Australia, inviting me to be a Guest Speaker at the 48th Nigerian National Day Celebration, being hosted today at the Arthur Wren Hall, in Hampton Park, on the outskirts of Melbourne. And as if to demonstrate that the long distance from home is no big deal, Nigeria’s R&B exponent Tu Face Idibia was invited to perform here. Even as you read this piece, the party would have started, because we are nine good hours ahead of Nigeria, and 14 hours ahead of New York, about 17 hours ahead of Los Angeles.

I accepted the invitation knowing there were great challenges ahead. I’m happy I did. It has afforded me the opportunity of discovering one of the greatest countries on this planet. It has also presented me the chance of picking some useful lessons for Nigeria. As I checked in at London Heathrow, I was jolted when the Virgin Atlantic lady told me I needed a visa to Australia even on my British Passport. I shouldn’t panic, she told me coolly, because she can apply for me just by swiping my passport on her system. In seconds, she announced, “your visa has been approved.” No stress, no questions asked. The service was at a cost of thirty pounds. I wondered how our tourism would ever thrive when our visa is not a simple process. American and European tourists are all trooping to South Africa despite the claims that the place is one of the most dangerous to visit in the world. The reason is simple. Visas are issued free as they land in South Africa. Please, educate me if you can, who wants to come and settle illegally in Nigeria as citizens of those developed nations? Why do we then make it difficult for visitors and investors to visit us?

I learnt the second lesson as we landed in Hong Kong, to have the airline cleaned, refueled and restocked. Our transit visa was a little sticker to our shirts upon showing our onward boarding passes to Sydney. We promptly went through security screening, and I went to the heavenly Virgin Atlantic lounge, where I refreshed, and had a most wonderful lunch. Within two hours on ground we were ready to fly again. Hong Kong lived up to its billing as one of the cleanest cities on earth. Show me your airport, and I’ll tell what your country is, was my conclusion. The airport was sparkling like a million stars. The shops were alluring and inviting. The world famous brands competed for attention. There were neatly-dressed ladies standing everywhere to assist the passengers. We were not left at the mercy of touts and area boys. It sadly reminded me of one of our most recent airports back home, the Nnamdi Azikiwe International Airport, in Abuja. Pardon me please, that airport is a big insult to the memory of the great statesman, The Owelle of Onitsha. Someone should kindly spare us the disgrace of the wosiwosi (scrappy shops) in that place. Our leaders should stop portraying us as a nation of shameless people and idiots. Our ministers who all go to shop in Knightsbridge and Rodeo Drive can’t tell me they don’t know that we deserve a better deal. They are just too selfish to care about their country. Our airports say so much about us. It does not require too much money to fix. It only requires a more sincere and focused leadership. I plead with President Umaru Musa Yar’Adua to rescue our country from the grip of public servants with powerful godfathers and no performance.

We flew for another nine hours to Sydney, a city made famous by the Olympics it hosted. I had really looked forward to this great moment in my journey. My love for certain countries and cities are often determined by how friendly or nasty the immigration and customs officers are. America is usually the worst. There, you are made to feel always like a criminal. London is the best city on earth. You can enter two or more times in a day, and you will never feel harassed. This must be one of the reasons tourism is the biggest income-earner in Great Britain. In America, if you visit twice in a month, you’ll be asked what is bringing into their country so frequently.

I didn’t expect the Australians to be so pleasant based on some of the questions on their landing cards. The questions include if you’ve visited Africa or South America in the last six days, which I couldn’t understand. Well, since I hadn’t been in seven days, technically, I escaped whatever their reason for asking. I didn’t even spend more than one minute at immigration and the customs woman was even quicker. She wanted to know if I carried any food, and my answer was a prompt No, and she stamped me out. As much as I enjoy some of those odoriferous African foods like dry fish, stockfish, dawadawa, ogi, our vegetable leaves, my wife knows I will never carry food in my luggage. I have seen some of our women as they turned aircrafts into Mammy markets, by terrorizing the nostrils of fellow passengers with all manner of condiments, and spilling palm oil all over the airport in London. It was always an ugly sight.

Again, the Sydney airport looked great. This could be seen as our Airbus 340-600 was about to touch down. A major part around the airport was covered by water, and this gave a picturesque image. The waiting area at arrival was busy with families and friends of passengers, but it still looked beautiful. I followed the signs to domestic departures, where I was booked to fly to Melbourne, my ultimate destination. All I needed was my passport to retrieve my e-ticket. In less than two minutes, I was able to change my connecting flight on Qantas Airline from 11am to an earlier one at 9am. I whisked through security screening that led unto a waiting vehicle. Here again, I learnt a lesson for Nigeria. The bus actually drove us from the international wing through the tarmac to the domestic. This opened my eyes to the resolution of the Virgin Nigeria versus Federal Government of Nigeria imbroglio on its relocation to Murtala Mohammed II. Transit route should be created for all connecting passengers from the domestic to the international after due security screening. It would be very terrible if connecting passengers are made to hit the streets like they are subjected to do at this moment.

As we landed finally in Melbourne, I whispered to myself, free at last, and walked out briskly, into the arms of the three wonderful Nigerians, who were already waiting to pick me to my hotel, in the centre of the city.
To be continued