It's been three months, and my time here is almost over. Today is my last day at the office, I am flying back on the 1st of December.
I got back from our hiking adventure in Jos on Sunday night. The experience while climbing the Shere Hills was so different from the usual Abuja daily grind or the few days I spent in Gidi. Plateau state is very different from those two cities. Most of the fruits and vegetables you can buy at the market come from the area around Jos. The climate is different; it is less hot, in fact it can get pretty damn cold at night. This was my first time climbing a mountain, and the scratches and bruises I took home tell stories of how steep and difficult some parts were. It was exciting and a great experience; we climbed up to 2.000 metres above ground and we had this amazing view over Plateau state - mountains, rivers, valleys reaching as far as the horizon. We slept outside in the bush.
After three months here I am ready and set to go back: I am looking forward to so many things, but mainly I am looking forward to seeing my family and my friends. When I look out of my office right now I see bright sunshine, it is around 36° and its very very dry. I cannot imagine how it will feel to come back to the German winter (well, it's probably going to be very very cold), I have gotten used to the sun and the heat.
I have made a mental list of things to do once I get back: 1. sleep in peace and silence (without having at least 3-4 people around in a tiny house, generators next to your window, roosters and other very rude and loud animals) 2. visit my grandma 3. get a haircut 4. go to a supermarket and buy whatever I feel like buying 5. spend 2 hours in the shower (with running hot water) 6. spend time outside looking just like everyone else, thus not being stared at and approached constantly (it gets very exhausting at a point) 7. browse with a stable and fast internet connection 8. watch a movie without NEPA taking light just 20 minutes before the end 9. eat müsli with real milk (no more milk powder) 10. being surrounded by people that do not constantly talk to themselves (it tends to be very confusing and irritating sometimes).
I cannot believe that in 6 days I will already board my flight back home. This has been a challenge, an adventure, a truly unique experience.
I hope I will be able to come back one day.
Mittwoch, 25. November 2009
Dienstag, 17. November 2009
Katakata go bust again
I have recently been working on a research project dealing with the Niger Delta Conflict, analyzing its root causes, the history, and its impacts. Originally it was planned that I would be involved in writing a short article about the Niger Delta Amnesty, but I am not sure whether I will be able to finish my part before I am leaving. However, the point is that my boss wanted to report "positive news" from Nigeria, he wanted to portray the amnesty as a success, showing that certain things change for the better. The amnesty ran from August 6th until October 4th and militant leaders of the Niger Delta region were asked to hand over their arms in exchange for money. With 15,000 militants reportedly officially surrendered and thousands of weapons including 2,760 assorted guns, 287,445 ammunitions of different calibre, 18 gun-boats, 763 dynamites, 1,090 dynamite caps, 3,155 magazines and several other military accessories like dynamite cables, bullet proof jackets and jack-knives recovered at the expiration of the presidential amnesty, progress has undoubtedly been made in restoring peace in the region. After the last failed attempt at implementing an amnesty programme in 2004, this is definitely considered to be good news. But it is only half of the story.
The Niger Delta conflict is an ongoing crisis that evolved with the discovery of petroleum in the Southern region of Nigeria as early as 1957. The roots of the Niger Delta conflict lie in the history of struggles for self-determination, local autonomy and democracy of ethnic minorities in the region; a combination of numerous regional and ethnic conflicts makes up the "Niger Delta Crisis", which has also been said to be the "Nigerian Crisis", as it is of major economic and political consequence. The Niger Delta region contributes the economic lifeline and fiscal basis of the Nigerian state, petroleum, while at the same time the region is among the poorest within Nigeria. Local communities lack basic infrastructure, electricity and piped water; furthermore their indigeneous land is polluted through daily oil spills and gas flaring. Oil exploration is the only noteworthy economic activity that is carried out in the region and it has replaced agriculture, which has been the main source of living and employment. Only a tiny fraction of locals is employed in the oil sector, most people are unemployed and face poverty and the daily struggle for survival. Local communities feel exploited and neglected, as they do not receive an adequate share of the oil wealth, while at the same time their basis of living has been taken away.
Armed militias have emerged in the early 1990s, after previous peaceful attempts at resolving the crisis by local people have been brutally put down by the Nigerian military. Several conflicts, such as the case of Ogoniland, and the execution of nine Ogoni leaders, including Ken Saro-Wiwa, or the Warri crisis and the Odi massacre, have been met with military force by the federal government; in many cases their proceedings can only be described as open terrorism against their own people. In May 2009 a full-scale offensive by Nigerian forces has been launched, thousands of civilians have fled, villages have been destroyed. The federal government meets the actions of militant groups with force. Nevertheless, local militant groups have succeeded in cutting Nigeria's oil output by a third, through the demolition and damage of oil-infrastructure. Economically, the conflict is costing billions each year; politically it implies the separation of one group of people from the rest of the country, a group that feels strongly neglected, exploited, and increasingly separated from the Nigerian state.
The amnesty has been partially successful, arms and weapons have been handed over, groups have de-militarized. Nevertheless, the question remains: What happens now? There does not seem to be a "post-conflict plan", an agenda for sustainable peace in the region. The amnesty was a first step, but the following steps are not quite figured out yet. MEND (Movement for the Emancipation of the Nigeri Delta), which materialized in 2006 and has been one of the most aggressive and heavily armed groupings, drawing members from all different ethnic groups has not taken part in the laying down of arms. Thus, a substantial amount of weapons (and the people willing to use them) are still out there. MEND is not afraid of more extreme measures, such as the kidnapping of foreign oil workers and attacks on oil transports via speedboats. No sufficient solution has been found, apart from more or less empty promises at "improving the situation of the people". A long-term agenda for the Niger Delta is needed urgently; a strategy that will help the people of the Niger Delta to again trust their government. A different pattern of redistribution of oil income has to be found, as well as an economic alternative for the people, aimed at reducing poverty and unemployment. The ruthless destruction of the environment has to be stopped. The amnesty by itself will not solve all these problems, but so far there has not been a comprehensive strategy of the Yar' Adua administration.
Whatever you want to call it: a resource control war, a liberation war, or a protest war, it has to be met by a holistic answer to the striking issues of the Delta. The amnesty can be considered a first step into the right direction, but what is clearly lacking is a long-term strategy of how to translate the ceasefire into lasting peace. Post-amnesty consultations are to be carried out, but many questions remain unanswered: who will negotiate in the name of the people of the Niger Delta? What are the implications of MEND's dismissal of the amnesty offer? How can the situation be improved and what are the challenges and how can they be overcome? Can there be a fair distribution of oil revenues?
The Niger Delta conflict is part of a more general crisis of the Nigerian state, including the lack of responsiveness of the government, a sense of alienation from the state, and the unwillingness of politicians to carry out vital reforms. Fully solving the Niger Delta crisis requires adressing these general issues; not exactly a task I see to be carried out by the current (or any other possible) government.
The Niger Delta conflict is an ongoing crisis that evolved with the discovery of petroleum in the Southern region of Nigeria as early as 1957. The roots of the Niger Delta conflict lie in the history of struggles for self-determination, local autonomy and democracy of ethnic minorities in the region; a combination of numerous regional and ethnic conflicts makes up the "Niger Delta Crisis", which has also been said to be the "Nigerian Crisis", as it is of major economic and political consequence. The Niger Delta region contributes the economic lifeline and fiscal basis of the Nigerian state, petroleum, while at the same time the region is among the poorest within Nigeria. Local communities lack basic infrastructure, electricity and piped water; furthermore their indigeneous land is polluted through daily oil spills and gas flaring. Oil exploration is the only noteworthy economic activity that is carried out in the region and it has replaced agriculture, which has been the main source of living and employment. Only a tiny fraction of locals is employed in the oil sector, most people are unemployed and face poverty and the daily struggle for survival. Local communities feel exploited and neglected, as they do not receive an adequate share of the oil wealth, while at the same time their basis of living has been taken away.
Armed militias have emerged in the early 1990s, after previous peaceful attempts at resolving the crisis by local people have been brutally put down by the Nigerian military. Several conflicts, such as the case of Ogoniland, and the execution of nine Ogoni leaders, including Ken Saro-Wiwa, or the Warri crisis and the Odi massacre, have been met with military force by the federal government; in many cases their proceedings can only be described as open terrorism against their own people. In May 2009 a full-scale offensive by Nigerian forces has been launched, thousands of civilians have fled, villages have been destroyed. The federal government meets the actions of militant groups with force. Nevertheless, local militant groups have succeeded in cutting Nigeria's oil output by a third, through the demolition and damage of oil-infrastructure. Economically, the conflict is costing billions each year; politically it implies the separation of one group of people from the rest of the country, a group that feels strongly neglected, exploited, and increasingly separated from the Nigerian state.
The amnesty has been partially successful, arms and weapons have been handed over, groups have de-militarized. Nevertheless, the question remains: What happens now? There does not seem to be a "post-conflict plan", an agenda for sustainable peace in the region. The amnesty was a first step, but the following steps are not quite figured out yet. MEND (Movement for the Emancipation of the Nigeri Delta), which materialized in 2006 and has been one of the most aggressive and heavily armed groupings, drawing members from all different ethnic groups has not taken part in the laying down of arms. Thus, a substantial amount of weapons (and the people willing to use them) are still out there. MEND is not afraid of more extreme measures, such as the kidnapping of foreign oil workers and attacks on oil transports via speedboats. No sufficient solution has been found, apart from more or less empty promises at "improving the situation of the people". A long-term agenda for the Niger Delta is needed urgently; a strategy that will help the people of the Niger Delta to again trust their government. A different pattern of redistribution of oil income has to be found, as well as an economic alternative for the people, aimed at reducing poverty and unemployment. The ruthless destruction of the environment has to be stopped. The amnesty by itself will not solve all these problems, but so far there has not been a comprehensive strategy of the Yar' Adua administration.
Whatever you want to call it: a resource control war, a liberation war, or a protest war, it has to be met by a holistic answer to the striking issues of the Delta. The amnesty can be considered a first step into the right direction, but what is clearly lacking is a long-term strategy of how to translate the ceasefire into lasting peace. Post-amnesty consultations are to be carried out, but many questions remain unanswered: who will negotiate in the name of the people of the Niger Delta? What are the implications of MEND's dismissal of the amnesty offer? How can the situation be improved and what are the challenges and how can they be overcome? Can there be a fair distribution of oil revenues?
The Niger Delta conflict is part of a more general crisis of the Nigerian state, including the lack of responsiveness of the government, a sense of alienation from the state, and the unwillingness of politicians to carry out vital reforms. Fully solving the Niger Delta crisis requires adressing these general issues; not exactly a task I see to be carried out by the current (or any other possible) government.
Freitag, 13. November 2009
Coming from a very different culture, a very different system, and a very different form of society, some things you meet in Nigeria are more than startling. The first time I stopped a taxi and told the guy where I wanted to go to and he simply said "no" and left I didn't really knew what just happened to me. The first few weeks I kept on wondering what was inside the plastic bottles that women carried on their heads and apparently sold to people, the content was indefinable. I also wondered what those guys with all the tools on their head were trying to do, before I finally found out that they are tailors and shoemakers (well, I would have finally found out about the tailors when I just recently met our office boy outside the gate on the street, only wearing his boxers, while all our drivers and the security guards were sourrunding him and the tailor, who was fixing his pants.
Things are so so different here. Everything is so different. I still feel that way sometimes when I am trying to do something I haven't done so far and I have to figure how it's done around here. Sometimes I wish I just knew, I wish things were as natural to me as they are to everyone else. Of course I cannot expect that. Where I grew up things are different. It's part of the challenge, to find out how to go about things and manage everyday life when you seem to know nothing about the way things are done. No book can teach you how to, it's something you will never learn from afar.
Listening to people, paying attention to detail, some sensitivity to culture and religion and an open-minded attitude help you a lot around here. I have learned a little bit of pidgin while I was here, and it works wonders on taxi drivers, sellers in the market and everyone else you want to charm. Today I was conducting some interviews for a work-related research project at Wuse market. People were really suspicious seeing a white girl wandering around, asking them about taxes. Telling them "I no dey work for government, oga. Me only won ask some questions" made them trust me at least a little bit more. Knowing that sometimes only aggression can get your point across helps in all sorts of discussions.Walking or spending time outside is generally considered strange, especially if you are white - so you shouldn't be surprised if every (!!) car that drives by honks at you while you are walking. It is also advisable to be aware of the fact that you are automatically equated to money; keeping that in mind will help you understand a lot of things better. Knowing that Friday is Mosque day prevents you from wearing any sort of "provocative" outfit (at least it should, I actually forgot today and I was wearing a short skirt - so far my had didn't get chopped off) and it also makes sure you don't try to make appointments with anyone on Friday afternoon (in general, that's not a good idea anyways..), even if people are not Muslim, the traffic in town is just crazy, so you better just stay at your office.
I am slowly starting to think about what I will bring back once I go back home (which is really soon) - and I am not talking of souvenirs. Most definitely I have made new experiences. I have lived a totally different life here; I had to get used to things I had never thought of before. It was the right decision to come here, despite everything. I will miss this crazy country.
Things are so so different here. Everything is so different. I still feel that way sometimes when I am trying to do something I haven't done so far and I have to figure how it's done around here. Sometimes I wish I just knew, I wish things were as natural to me as they are to everyone else. Of course I cannot expect that. Where I grew up things are different. It's part of the challenge, to find out how to go about things and manage everyday life when you seem to know nothing about the way things are done. No book can teach you how to, it's something you will never learn from afar.
Listening to people, paying attention to detail, some sensitivity to culture and religion and an open-minded attitude help you a lot around here. I have learned a little bit of pidgin while I was here, and it works wonders on taxi drivers, sellers in the market and everyone else you want to charm. Today I was conducting some interviews for a work-related research project at Wuse market. People were really suspicious seeing a white girl wandering around, asking them about taxes. Telling them "I no dey work for government, oga. Me only won ask some questions" made them trust me at least a little bit more. Knowing that sometimes only aggression can get your point across helps in all sorts of discussions.Walking or spending time outside is generally considered strange, especially if you are white - so you shouldn't be surprised if every (!!) car that drives by honks at you while you are walking. It is also advisable to be aware of the fact that you are automatically equated to money; keeping that in mind will help you understand a lot of things better. Knowing that Friday is Mosque day prevents you from wearing any sort of "provocative" outfit (at least it should, I actually forgot today and I was wearing a short skirt - so far my had didn't get chopped off) and it also makes sure you don't try to make appointments with anyone on Friday afternoon (in general, that's not a good idea anyways..), even if people are not Muslim, the traffic in town is just crazy, so you better just stay at your office.
I am slowly starting to think about what I will bring back once I go back home (which is really soon) - and I am not talking of souvenirs. Most definitely I have made new experiences. I have lived a totally different life here; I had to get used to things I had never thought of before. It was the right decision to come here, despite everything. I will miss this crazy country.
Mittwoch, 11. November 2009
How much your money now?
The art of dealing with the police in Nigeria is a skill you have to develop and refine. First rule: the police is always right (even if they are wrong), Second rule: they are to be treated with respect, even if they treat you like a piece of crap while they are performing their illegal activities. You might be angry as hell on the inside, but all you say is "Yes officer", "I understand officer", "You are right officer". People here are really good at it. I am not. I feel like yelling at them, telling them about how ridiculous it is to me that they are acting the big shot, feeling all important and almighty because they are the Nigerian police and have a machine gun they randomly point at you. They don't seem to suceed in making Nigeria any more safe. They do suceed in making people a lot more poor. Of course this is not what I say to them; I try to be as polite and respectful as I can ("Thank you officer", "Have a nice day officer"), while I m filled with spite.
Now that Christmas is coming closer, there is even more police activity around Abuja. There are more "rules" you have broken once you get stopped, there are more requirements your car has to fulfill. And dashing is a lot more expensive. Usually the rule for dashing is: the bigger the car the bigger the dash. But even a crappy old taxi doesn't mean your safe from them. They give you ridiculous reasons once they want your money: my friend's jeep is in an excellent state; it is new, clean, fulfills all safety requirements. The police really couldn't find anything to complain about (he even had a fire extinguisher in the trunk). After they had been walking around the car (it was 5 of them, one had entered the car, the others were busy looking for something to complain about) they told my friend that the cover of his spare (!!) tire had a crack. The cover. Of his spare tire. A crack. Big crime. Huge safety risk. He should go to prison for that. Right away. He didn't, he decided for the "easy" way out and dashed them 2000 Naira (unfortunately the more policmen there are the more you have to pay. 2000 is quite a substantial dash, but around this time it seems to me that you are expected to pay more than usual).
This morning, my taxi driver got pulled over. He is a really nice guy, and not very Nigerian in many ways. He has never tried to rip me off, he is not aggressive whatsoever, and he even obeys most traffic rules. This police guy enters the car (really old, looks like it will fall apart soon - and sounds like it too) while telling my driver how he didn't like the way my driver was trying to turn, that he should pay more attention to the opposing traffic, etc. He asked for his driver's license and papers and while the poor guy is taking them out the police officer complains about the fact that he had folded them and packed them into a plastic bag. Apparently they are supposed to be "neat" (which they were, that's probably why they were packed into a plastic bag) and that he doesn't like the way my driver had parked the car (well, we were stuck in the middle of a crossroad, partially parking on the pedestrian path. There weren't too many possibilities of parking nicely and securely). We ended up NOT paying (surprise), but only because the guy next to us, who had been pulled over by the same guy as well, did not have a license at all - so the policeman saw that his pay day had come ripping off the guy who didn't have his license on him and decided to let poor Benjamin (taxi driver) go.
It is interesting to see how people react to a white woman apparently living in this country (as opposed to being a tourist). Yesterday I took the bus back from work, it's a 20 minutes walk from my office to the highway in Wuse where the "bus stop" is located (which is more or less just a bunch of very old and very broken minibusses, there is no sign that this is a bus stop, but you just have to know. Well, it's not that hard to figure considering all the busses there). Before I got there I had to cross several streets, most of them very busy because of the rush hour between 4:30-7:30 and while I was waiting, some guy shows up next to me and says: "White woman want to cross?" Which was more or less meant to say: Well, you are white, you cannot cross this street. Errm, yes - I wanted to cross, and yes I eventually did. It is not a matter of being black per se, to be able to cross the streets here, it is a matter of being used to the traffic and of being courageous enough to actually make the move. People think that once you are white there is just no way for you to survive the normal life (I don't mean the expat-life, with 24hrs electricity, AC everywhere, your own cleaning and cooking staff, drivers to take you to the Transcorp Hilton to use the pool, the tennis court or the gym, where you will only meet other expats, but the real life in Nigeria, which is a little more challenging and a little more interesting than that).
Taking the bus in Nigeria is very different from everything I am used to concerning public transport. There's no such thing as bus stops, signs, directions, schedules. (Actually, not true - there are random bus stops, but they are used for everything else, busses don't stop there). The "system" is more need-based. There are certain places that busses leave from, so if you know you can go there and look for one that goes into your direction. A bus always has a driver (if you're lucky and he shows up that is) and in addition it has a conductor. The conductor is responsible for getting people into the bus, collecting the money and during the drive he is standing half inside half outside the bus, yelling "Wusewusewusewuse", "Setracosetracosetraco" (which is the rough direction, you can never be sure which route they take exactly, but they might ask on the way and if you need to go somewhere specifically they will change the route for you) to find more people to squeeze into the bus. If you need to get off you tell the driver (or the conductor) - so they can stop the bus. If you are sitting in the back and you want to come down, everyone sitting in that row will have to get up and get out and then move back into the bus. Being a white girl I still get the most amazed looks from people (inside and outside the bus). Admittedly, it must look really funny - me squeezed in in between 15 Nigerians (mostly men, women hardly ever take the bus). One piece of advice: You shouldn't be afraid of physical contact - you will not really get much space and sometimes they make you sit partially on someone's lap (no joke!), as to squeeze in as many people as possible. It's a fun thing to do, gets you closer to the people (in every sense) and it gets you closer to the real life in Nigeria (not that I feel to separated from it anyways..).
Now that Christmas is coming closer, there is even more police activity around Abuja. There are more "rules" you have broken once you get stopped, there are more requirements your car has to fulfill. And dashing is a lot more expensive. Usually the rule for dashing is: the bigger the car the bigger the dash. But even a crappy old taxi doesn't mean your safe from them. They give you ridiculous reasons once they want your money: my friend's jeep is in an excellent state; it is new, clean, fulfills all safety requirements. The police really couldn't find anything to complain about (he even had a fire extinguisher in the trunk). After they had been walking around the car (it was 5 of them, one had entered the car, the others were busy looking for something to complain about) they told my friend that the cover of his spare (!!) tire had a crack. The cover. Of his spare tire. A crack. Big crime. Huge safety risk. He should go to prison for that. Right away. He didn't, he decided for the "easy" way out and dashed them 2000 Naira (unfortunately the more policmen there are the more you have to pay. 2000 is quite a substantial dash, but around this time it seems to me that you are expected to pay more than usual).
This morning, my taxi driver got pulled over. He is a really nice guy, and not very Nigerian in many ways. He has never tried to rip me off, he is not aggressive whatsoever, and he even obeys most traffic rules. This police guy enters the car (really old, looks like it will fall apart soon - and sounds like it too) while telling my driver how he didn't like the way my driver was trying to turn, that he should pay more attention to the opposing traffic, etc. He asked for his driver's license and papers and while the poor guy is taking them out the police officer complains about the fact that he had folded them and packed them into a plastic bag. Apparently they are supposed to be "neat" (which they were, that's probably why they were packed into a plastic bag) and that he doesn't like the way my driver had parked the car (well, we were stuck in the middle of a crossroad, partially parking on the pedestrian path. There weren't too many possibilities of parking nicely and securely). We ended up NOT paying (surprise), but only because the guy next to us, who had been pulled over by the same guy as well, did not have a license at all - so the policeman saw that his pay day had come ripping off the guy who didn't have his license on him and decided to let poor Benjamin (taxi driver) go.
It is interesting to see how people react to a white woman apparently living in this country (as opposed to being a tourist). Yesterday I took the bus back from work, it's a 20 minutes walk from my office to the highway in Wuse where the "bus stop" is located (which is more or less just a bunch of very old and very broken minibusses, there is no sign that this is a bus stop, but you just have to know. Well, it's not that hard to figure considering all the busses there). Before I got there I had to cross several streets, most of them very busy because of the rush hour between 4:30-7:30 and while I was waiting, some guy shows up next to me and says: "White woman want to cross?" Which was more or less meant to say: Well, you are white, you cannot cross this street. Errm, yes - I wanted to cross, and yes I eventually did. It is not a matter of being black per se, to be able to cross the streets here, it is a matter of being used to the traffic and of being courageous enough to actually make the move. People think that once you are white there is just no way for you to survive the normal life (I don't mean the expat-life, with 24hrs electricity, AC everywhere, your own cleaning and cooking staff, drivers to take you to the Transcorp Hilton to use the pool, the tennis court or the gym, where you will only meet other expats, but the real life in Nigeria, which is a little more challenging and a little more interesting than that).
Taking the bus in Nigeria is very different from everything I am used to concerning public transport. There's no such thing as bus stops, signs, directions, schedules. (Actually, not true - there are random bus stops, but they are used for everything else, busses don't stop there). The "system" is more need-based. There are certain places that busses leave from, so if you know you can go there and look for one that goes into your direction. A bus always has a driver (if you're lucky and he shows up that is) and in addition it has a conductor. The conductor is responsible for getting people into the bus, collecting the money and during the drive he is standing half inside half outside the bus, yelling "Wusewusewusewuse", "Setracosetracosetraco" (which is the rough direction, you can never be sure which route they take exactly, but they might ask on the way and if you need to go somewhere specifically they will change the route for you) to find more people to squeeze into the bus. If you need to get off you tell the driver (or the conductor) - so they can stop the bus. If you are sitting in the back and you want to come down, everyone sitting in that row will have to get up and get out and then move back into the bus. Being a white girl I still get the most amazed looks from people (inside and outside the bus). Admittedly, it must look really funny - me squeezed in in between 15 Nigerians (mostly men, women hardly ever take the bus). One piece of advice: You shouldn't be afraid of physical contact - you will not really get much space and sometimes they make you sit partially on someone's lap (no joke!), as to squeeze in as many people as possible. It's a fun thing to do, gets you closer to the people (in every sense) and it gets you closer to the real life in Nigeria (not that I feel to separated from it anyways..).
Mittwoch, 4. November 2009
This tin dey vex me plenty plenty.
"Nigeria is a prime example of a country trapped in the resource curse. Whereas some resource‐rich economies, such as Botswana or Norway, were able to utilize their resources for stable economic growth, Nigeria has suffered from a continuous economic underperformance and widespread poverty within the population, albeit growing revenues from petroleum exports. Nigeria is the largest petroleum exporter in Africa, and its large proven oil reserves place it among the world’s most oil-abundant areas (Ahmad Khan, 1994; Ariweriokuma, 2009). Nigerian oil exports have gained major economic significance since the 1970s. By 1979, the share of the mineral economy of the total GDP accounted for 25 percent; petroleum exports accounted for over 90 percent of total exports, and contributed four fifths to total government revenues, a level that has been sustained until today (Gelb et al., 1988; Lewis 2007; see Appendix 1), thus constituting Nigeria’s most important economic activity (Ahmad Khan, 1994)" - Berlin, 2009.
In a nutshell, this is the story of Nigerian oil - it is there, it is abundant, it is a curse. Stalled development in Nigeria can be traced back to the political economy of oil, the interrelationship of resources and post-colonial regime characteristics, and the potential of resource wealth to lead to continuous conflict, which in turn decreases revenues, worsens economic hardship and divides the population. I am strongly simplifying here, but the point remains valid: A nation so rich in resources should not experience widespread poverty and economic underdevelopment. Africa's largest oil producer should not have to suffer from a substantial fuel shortage.
The current shortage in petroleum in combination with the latest NEPA (or PHCN) desaster (Nigeria was promised non-stop electricity for a month - my house had not seen lights for three days, before they finally put it back on for a few hours last night) once more shows how there still is a lot to be done before Nigeria will be able to use its potential.
It is bitter irony: there is more than enough oil in the South of this very country, and still there are endless queues at the filling stations. Several hours of waiting in line do not necessarily guarantee that you will get fuel at all; the filling station might run out - or for strange reasons decide to stop selling for a few hours. Taxi prices as well as bus fares just went up. Businesses and individuals are not able to use their generators without any fuel. The shortage paralyzes the economy, in times when a severe banking crisis has already led to desastrous consequences for the Nigerian economy.
Nigerian crude oil is exported, petroleum is imported and highly subsidised. Refineries that would allow for indigenous production of fuel from the own oil are not in place. The lack of oil-related infrastructure is just startling. In Nigeria it is more profitable to smuggle the imported petroleum to the neighbouring countries, where petroleum is not as highly subsidized. The smuggling of fuel on a grand scale necessarily leads to severe petroleum shortages in a country of 140 million people, who are in need of fuel to provide their own electricity most of the time. The solution proposed by NNPC (Nigerian National Petroleum Company) is deregulation of the downstream sector. Theoretically this does not sound like a bad idea; making the oil sector more independent of goverment intervention, while at the same time allowing for urgently needed increases in government revenue. This is publicly advertised on Nigerian TV. NTA shows the "deregulation ad" every other hour - trying to convince Nigerians to support a bill that will lead to an extreme increase in petroleum prices. The current price of 65 Naira per litre (around 30 cents) has been announced to increase to at least 100 Naira due to deregulation. The announced increase was supposed to take effect in November, but has already been postponed to January 2010. This increase is basically impossible to afford for most people - the minimum wage is 5500 Naira (not even up to 30 Euros a month).
This situation is a trap - while the need for deregulation is obvious, the consequences are desastrous. The long-term objective of an independent, self-regulated oil sector requires a huge sacrifice of the already deprived. The only sustainable solution is the investment in oil infrastructure, the establishment of own refineries and the production of petroleum from Nigerian crude oil within the country. What sounds like an intuitive approach turns out to be impossible: corruption, bad governance and mismanagement are the core characteristics not only of any policies relating to resources, but these factors constitute the Nigerian dilemma. Oil is the backbone of the Nigerian economy; the exclusive economic focus on oil extraction has led to the emergence of a rentier state, which is now fed and nourished by the exact cause of the misery: oil.
In a nutshell, this is the story of Nigerian oil - it is there, it is abundant, it is a curse. Stalled development in Nigeria can be traced back to the political economy of oil, the interrelationship of resources and post-colonial regime characteristics, and the potential of resource wealth to lead to continuous conflict, which in turn decreases revenues, worsens economic hardship and divides the population. I am strongly simplifying here, but the point remains valid: A nation so rich in resources should not experience widespread poverty and economic underdevelopment. Africa's largest oil producer should not have to suffer from a substantial fuel shortage.
The current shortage in petroleum in combination with the latest NEPA (or PHCN) desaster (Nigeria was promised non-stop electricity for a month - my house had not seen lights for three days, before they finally put it back on for a few hours last night) once more shows how there still is a lot to be done before Nigeria will be able to use its potential.
It is bitter irony: there is more than enough oil in the South of this very country, and still there are endless queues at the filling stations. Several hours of waiting in line do not necessarily guarantee that you will get fuel at all; the filling station might run out - or for strange reasons decide to stop selling for a few hours. Taxi prices as well as bus fares just went up. Businesses and individuals are not able to use their generators without any fuel. The shortage paralyzes the economy, in times when a severe banking crisis has already led to desastrous consequences for the Nigerian economy.
Nigerian crude oil is exported, petroleum is imported and highly subsidised. Refineries that would allow for indigenous production of fuel from the own oil are not in place. The lack of oil-related infrastructure is just startling. In Nigeria it is more profitable to smuggle the imported petroleum to the neighbouring countries, where petroleum is not as highly subsidized. The smuggling of fuel on a grand scale necessarily leads to severe petroleum shortages in a country of 140 million people, who are in need of fuel to provide their own electricity most of the time. The solution proposed by NNPC (Nigerian National Petroleum Company) is deregulation of the downstream sector. Theoretically this does not sound like a bad idea; making the oil sector more independent of goverment intervention, while at the same time allowing for urgently needed increases in government revenue. This is publicly advertised on Nigerian TV. NTA shows the "deregulation ad" every other hour - trying to convince Nigerians to support a bill that will lead to an extreme increase in petroleum prices. The current price of 65 Naira per litre (around 30 cents) has been announced to increase to at least 100 Naira due to deregulation. The announced increase was supposed to take effect in November, but has already been postponed to January 2010. This increase is basically impossible to afford for most people - the minimum wage is 5500 Naira (not even up to 30 Euros a month).
This situation is a trap - while the need for deregulation is obvious, the consequences are desastrous. The long-term objective of an independent, self-regulated oil sector requires a huge sacrifice of the already deprived. The only sustainable solution is the investment in oil infrastructure, the establishment of own refineries and the production of petroleum from Nigerian crude oil within the country. What sounds like an intuitive approach turns out to be impossible: corruption, bad governance and mismanagement are the core characteristics not only of any policies relating to resources, but these factors constitute the Nigerian dilemma. Oil is the backbone of the Nigerian economy; the exclusive economic focus on oil extraction has led to the emergence of a rentier state, which is now fed and nourished by the exact cause of the misery: oil.
Montag, 2. November 2009
Girl you're so fine o... You blow my mind o...
Going out in Abuja is fun, given you know the right people and the few fun places there are. This weekend was just amazing, and people that go on about how boring Abuja is and how there is just "nothing to do" are not really trying.
After Friday's game (there is no better way to start a weekend than leaving work 2 hours before the official end, sitting in the VIP area of a massive stadium, drinking canned star while watching your team win 3:1, qualifying for the next round) I spent the evening at a friend's place, having Asian food and watching a movie. Saturday I was being more adventureous: after I survived the past week without any injuries, accidents or kidnapping attempts I decided to try and discover Abuja a little more. I had not been to the famous "Arts and Crafts Village", a bunch of little huts in which touristic souvenirs are sold (traditional dresses, masks, decorative items, jewelry, etc.). For me it was a great opportunity to put my bargaining skills to a test and my pidgin knowledge to work. It must look (and sound) funny, a white (I m still very white, haven't even tanned all that much) blonde girl, all alone sourrounded by a bunch of Nigerians trying to sell their "art" and "craft", telling them "you dey give me oyinbo price oga - wetin dey real price now?", "Me no be johnny just came, no go vex me with that your oyinbo price now o". I think I managed to get pretty good prices. Speaking (a little bit) of pidgin usually helps a lot around here. People do get the fact that you didn't just get here two days ago and that you are probably not just some tourist who is only spending a week in Nigeria. It strenghtens your position as a "local", which in turn helps to get the "real" price instead of the oyinbo price.
After the touristic shopping I was kind of stuck on the express way. I had gotten there by taxi, but I didn't wanna get a taxi from there because by now I know the mentality (Ah, dat babe, dey oyinbo tourist shopping now, I go make am pay tourist price), so I walked by the side of the expressway for a bit, trying to get into town again. I had to cross at some point to catch the exit of the express way, and even though this might be hard to imagine for most non-Nigerians, people cross express ways all the time. There are always loads of people on the express way (only God knows what they are doing there, and they do cross. This is not my first time attempting to cross, so I just waited a little (in the meantime 3 other people crossed, while I was still waiting, thinking that there might not be enough space..) and eventually made my move. Right after I had reached the other side a police car drives by, slows down right next to me to honk at me. Honking in general doesn't mean much around here, especially when you are white and you are out alone its the constant background noise, but it hadn't happened with a police car before. I wonder whether it was because of "oyinbo on the express way" (people on the express way are normal, oyinbos apparently are more of a rare sight), or whether they just wanted my attention. It probablay was a combination of both.
Saturday night I went out with a group of my friends. First we had a few drinks at a local pub in Abuja's red light district in Garki. The place had a (very bad) live band, loads of hoes, and very expensive beer. It was fun. Around 1am we checked out the "club" that belonged to that pub, some shabby establishment that was filled with more hoes, drunk men and interesting music. We stayed there for about 30 minutes before our male friends had pissed off all the drunk Nigerina men around by trying to protect us from their "attention". We moved to "basement", a really fun club I had not been to before. Excellent music, loads of people, many many beers.
Going out in a group of white people is very different from going out with my Nigerian friends. When you are the only white chick sourrounded by a group of Nigerian girls, men feel somehow more restrained to just go ahead and grab you - they don't seem to feel any such constraints when you are in a group of other white people. They just think they should "try their luck". And if they don't get lucky with the first white babe they hit on, they try the other three in that group (makes you feel really special). Luckily enough we had our male friends as guards around. They would do their best to "protect" us from unwanted male attention. It was funny to see - especially one time, when one of our friends dragged me and my colleague close because apparently there was some guy behind us who had tried to grab us for a while, and this guy comes up to our friend, asking him whether we both "belonged" to him. I think it got my friend a round of respect, being there with two women all to himself.
I spent my night at my colleagues place in Maitama, I went swimming in their pool in the morning (well, it was actually already noon) and we had pancakes in their airconditioned seating area. It once more made the contrasts so real to me; there is bucket showers and no lights for 3 days at my end. Theres a pool, a washing machine, and daily cleaning boys at my colleagues place. We live in the same country, in the same town. And we live two different lives.
Last time I blogged about the way people carry out their arguments here. This morning it reached its height. Yes, there are daily fights which I cannot help but overhear (mainly because they are really loud), but so far my colleagues have never carried out their agressive fights in front of the whole team. My office has a traditional Monday morning meeting, which is usually led by my boss, or the boss of the regional project (we all work for the same foundation, but in different divisions). My boss left a while ago, so meetings were held by the other boss who is not around until Wednesday. I honestly did not see the need for a meeting, which is mainly aimed at reporting back to our oga what we have done throughout the week and what we are currently working on. Nevertheless, one of the project managers decided to call for a meeting. Ten minutes after the official start, one of our colleagues shows up, sits down and makes a comment on how this meeting should not take place and how he feels snubbed. This remark led to a heated argument in which these two project managers yell at each other in front of the whole office team. We all tried to calm them down, asked them to resolve matters like civlized people, but they continued yelling and shouting at eacht other. I have never experienced such a situation in any of the offices I have worked in. The tone was rough sometimes, there was harsh criticism, but there was never a situation of two people yelling at each other in front of all their colleagues. In between I was thinking about just getting up and leaving the room but I didn't want to create even more of a fuss. Just as a sidenote: I am working with these exact two people on an internal research project, it's only the three of us and things weren't exactly perfect before, I guess I will have a really interesting research group meeting later today.
After Friday's game (there is no better way to start a weekend than leaving work 2 hours before the official end, sitting in the VIP area of a massive stadium, drinking canned star while watching your team win 3:1, qualifying for the next round) I spent the evening at a friend's place, having Asian food and watching a movie. Saturday I was being more adventureous: after I survived the past week without any injuries, accidents or kidnapping attempts I decided to try and discover Abuja a little more. I had not been to the famous "Arts and Crafts Village", a bunch of little huts in which touristic souvenirs are sold (traditional dresses, masks, decorative items, jewelry, etc.). For me it was a great opportunity to put my bargaining skills to a test and my pidgin knowledge to work. It must look (and sound) funny, a white (I m still very white, haven't even tanned all that much) blonde girl, all alone sourrounded by a bunch of Nigerians trying to sell their "art" and "craft", telling them "you dey give me oyinbo price oga - wetin dey real price now?", "Me no be johnny just came, no go vex me with that your oyinbo price now o". I think I managed to get pretty good prices. Speaking (a little bit) of pidgin usually helps a lot around here. People do get the fact that you didn't just get here two days ago and that you are probably not just some tourist who is only spending a week in Nigeria. It strenghtens your position as a "local", which in turn helps to get the "real" price instead of the oyinbo price.
After the touristic shopping I was kind of stuck on the express way. I had gotten there by taxi, but I didn't wanna get a taxi from there because by now I know the mentality (Ah, dat babe, dey oyinbo tourist shopping now, I go make am pay tourist price), so I walked by the side of the expressway for a bit, trying to get into town again. I had to cross at some point to catch the exit of the express way, and even though this might be hard to imagine for most non-Nigerians, people cross express ways all the time. There are always loads of people on the express way (only God knows what they are doing there, and they do cross. This is not my first time attempting to cross, so I just waited a little (in the meantime 3 other people crossed, while I was still waiting, thinking that there might not be enough space..) and eventually made my move. Right after I had reached the other side a police car drives by, slows down right next to me to honk at me. Honking in general doesn't mean much around here, especially when you are white and you are out alone its the constant background noise, but it hadn't happened with a police car before. I wonder whether it was because of "oyinbo on the express way" (people on the express way are normal, oyinbos apparently are more of a rare sight), or whether they just wanted my attention. It probablay was a combination of both.
Saturday night I went out with a group of my friends. First we had a few drinks at a local pub in Abuja's red light district in Garki. The place had a (very bad) live band, loads of hoes, and very expensive beer. It was fun. Around 1am we checked out the "club" that belonged to that pub, some shabby establishment that was filled with more hoes, drunk men and interesting music. We stayed there for about 30 minutes before our male friends had pissed off all the drunk Nigerina men around by trying to protect us from their "attention". We moved to "basement", a really fun club I had not been to before. Excellent music, loads of people, many many beers.
Going out in a group of white people is very different from going out with my Nigerian friends. When you are the only white chick sourrounded by a group of Nigerian girls, men feel somehow more restrained to just go ahead and grab you - they don't seem to feel any such constraints when you are in a group of other white people. They just think they should "try their luck". And if they don't get lucky with the first white babe they hit on, they try the other three in that group (makes you feel really special). Luckily enough we had our male friends as guards around. They would do their best to "protect" us from unwanted male attention. It was funny to see - especially one time, when one of our friends dragged me and my colleague close because apparently there was some guy behind us who had tried to grab us for a while, and this guy comes up to our friend, asking him whether we both "belonged" to him. I think it got my friend a round of respect, being there with two women all to himself.
I spent my night at my colleagues place in Maitama, I went swimming in their pool in the morning (well, it was actually already noon) and we had pancakes in their airconditioned seating area. It once more made the contrasts so real to me; there is bucket showers and no lights for 3 days at my end. Theres a pool, a washing machine, and daily cleaning boys at my colleagues place. We live in the same country, in the same town. And we live two different lives.
Last time I blogged about the way people carry out their arguments here. This morning it reached its height. Yes, there are daily fights which I cannot help but overhear (mainly because they are really loud), but so far my colleagues have never carried out their agressive fights in front of the whole team. My office has a traditional Monday morning meeting, which is usually led by my boss, or the boss of the regional project (we all work for the same foundation, but in different divisions). My boss left a while ago, so meetings were held by the other boss who is not around until Wednesday. I honestly did not see the need for a meeting, which is mainly aimed at reporting back to our oga what we have done throughout the week and what we are currently working on. Nevertheless, one of the project managers decided to call for a meeting. Ten minutes after the official start, one of our colleagues shows up, sits down and makes a comment on how this meeting should not take place and how he feels snubbed. This remark led to a heated argument in which these two project managers yell at each other in front of the whole office team. We all tried to calm them down, asked them to resolve matters like civlized people, but they continued yelling and shouting at eacht other. I have never experienced such a situation in any of the offices I have worked in. The tone was rough sometimes, there was harsh criticism, but there was never a situation of two people yelling at each other in front of all their colleagues. In between I was thinking about just getting up and leaving the room but I didn't want to create even more of a fuss. Just as a sidenote: I am working with these exact two people on an internal research project, it's only the three of us and things weren't exactly perfect before, I guess I will have a really interesting research group meeting later today.
Donnerstag, 29. Oktober 2009
Oga, kool tempa now o!
Nigerians are very expressive people. They are very loud, and they don't mind if everyone around them can hear what they are discontent with. There has not been a day without any loud disagreements between our office drivers and the "office boy". Most of the time I have no idea what they are disagreeing about, but it is always loud and I m sure that pretty much everyone in the office witnesses their daily disagreements. If you don't know that arguing and yelling at each other is a normal part of communicating around here you would think there is some serious trouble going on. Usually there isn't. Yelling and loud arguments are very commonplace. If you get angry at something or someone you don't just contain yourself and get over it, no, on the contrary, you make yourself heard. I have witnessed arguments about the most funny things in this country, people get angry about basically everything, they start screaming and yelling, the other person yells back, it goes on for about ten minutes. Usually, no solution is found, and the situation is hardly ever resolved, but after both parties have engaged in some heated argument and vented their anger they usually calm down and things are fine. Ever since I got here I think I witnessed around 50 loud and angry public arguments. Quite a number. I don't think I have seen half as many all through the 22 years I have spend in Germany. It hardly ever happens.
Nigerians are afraid of rain. People don't go out when it's raining. They show up an hour late for work because "it was raining" and they "couldn't go out". Hardly anyone carries an umbrella, even though during the rainy season it rains every day and when it rains it pours. Still, instead of being prepared for that case, people prefer to hide from the rain. It's funny to be outside when the rain starts falling - within 5 minutes you will be the only one still out. People literally run from the rain (and people here don't run very often, trust me). Taxi drivers feel like they can charge you three times as much (two factors coming together here: 1. I dey oyinbo, 2. It's raining, so I must be desperate to take the first taxi that stops). When you happen to be outside while it starts raining people are very sympathetic. Yesterday after I left work and walked to the main junction to get a taxi to get home it started raining heavily. I was standing under a tree, waiting for a taxi to show up, when some security/house boy came out of the gate next to the tree to open it for his oga madame who was driving in with her car. He told me "Sorry o, rain really bad" like three times. I don't really know why rain is considered such a desaster, the only harm it does is that it might get you wet, which in turn should not be considered the end of the world, because as soon as the rain stops and the sun comes out again you will dry off pretty quickly. I understand that it is more of a big deal for the Nigerian women, because of their hair, but still, I think people slightly overreact when it comes to rain.
Ah, Nigerian women and their hair.. Maybe it is like this all over Africa, I wouldn't really know - but to me this still is fascinating. Most women here don't wear their own hair, they have wigs, some sort of braids, etc. They literally get it done every week, and it always looks different. Getting your hair done here is not done within one hour (like mine, when I go to a hairdresser I hardly spend more than 45 minutes) but it takes all day. And it hurts (I don't know this from first hand experience, I have only been told - but from what I heard about the way it's done I believe without a doubt that it hurts). You don't see many women just wearing their own hair in some sort of a haircut, even though the few women you see with their own hair often have really cool and fashionable haircuts.
Today, I decided to name the two lizards that I see pretty much every day. I leave my office door open most of the time, so whenever I get bored I look outside to see what's going on. It's not exactly a thriller, mostly it's either the security guys or the drivers walk by, once in a while some arguments are going on right there (see above) and sometimes I get to watch the rain. My most frequent visitors though are Theodor, and Peter-Harry (it's a really fat, lame and ugly one, he does remind me of P-H Carstensen), two nosy lizards that hang around my office a lot. They both have pretty distinctive features, so I m pretty sure I recognize them by now. Lizards are probably the most widespread animal around here (after BUGS), you literally find them everywhere. Having them in your house actually isn't such a bad idea, they eat bugs and thus support my endless (and rather futile) fight. I am a little sad that I haven't seen any exotic animals so far (Theodor and P-H don' really count, they are nice but not that exciting). I hope I get to come with my friends, they are planning on going hiking in Jos State, which would be a good opportunity to finally have something close to a Safari experience.
Nigerians are afraid of rain. People don't go out when it's raining. They show up an hour late for work because "it was raining" and they "couldn't go out". Hardly anyone carries an umbrella, even though during the rainy season it rains every day and when it rains it pours. Still, instead of being prepared for that case, people prefer to hide from the rain. It's funny to be outside when the rain starts falling - within 5 minutes you will be the only one still out. People literally run from the rain (and people here don't run very often, trust me). Taxi drivers feel like they can charge you three times as much (two factors coming together here: 1. I dey oyinbo, 2. It's raining, so I must be desperate to take the first taxi that stops). When you happen to be outside while it starts raining people are very sympathetic. Yesterday after I left work and walked to the main junction to get a taxi to get home it started raining heavily. I was standing under a tree, waiting for a taxi to show up, when some security/house boy came out of the gate next to the tree to open it for his oga madame who was driving in with her car. He told me "Sorry o, rain really bad" like three times. I don't really know why rain is considered such a desaster, the only harm it does is that it might get you wet, which in turn should not be considered the end of the world, because as soon as the rain stops and the sun comes out again you will dry off pretty quickly. I understand that it is more of a big deal for the Nigerian women, because of their hair, but still, I think people slightly overreact when it comes to rain.
Ah, Nigerian women and their hair.. Maybe it is like this all over Africa, I wouldn't really know - but to me this still is fascinating. Most women here don't wear their own hair, they have wigs, some sort of braids, etc. They literally get it done every week, and it always looks different. Getting your hair done here is not done within one hour (like mine, when I go to a hairdresser I hardly spend more than 45 minutes) but it takes all day. And it hurts (I don't know this from first hand experience, I have only been told - but from what I heard about the way it's done I believe without a doubt that it hurts). You don't see many women just wearing their own hair in some sort of a haircut, even though the few women you see with their own hair often have really cool and fashionable haircuts.
Today, I decided to name the two lizards that I see pretty much every day. I leave my office door open most of the time, so whenever I get bored I look outside to see what's going on. It's not exactly a thriller, mostly it's either the security guys or the drivers walk by, once in a while some arguments are going on right there (see above) and sometimes I get to watch the rain. My most frequent visitors though are Theodor, and Peter-Harry (it's a really fat, lame and ugly one, he does remind me of P-H Carstensen), two nosy lizards that hang around my office a lot. They both have pretty distinctive features, so I m pretty sure I recognize them by now. Lizards are probably the most widespread animal around here (after BUGS), you literally find them everywhere. Having them in your house actually isn't such a bad idea, they eat bugs and thus support my endless (and rather futile) fight. I am a little sad that I haven't seen any exotic animals so far (Theodor and P-H don' really count, they are nice but not that exciting). I hope I get to come with my friends, they are planning on going hiking in Jos State, which would be a good opportunity to finally have something close to a Safari experience.
Abonnieren
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