No do no do... My last post from Naija

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.

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.

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.

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..).

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.

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.

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.

"Hey, I like you. Wanna get married?" "Sorry, I m trying to watch the match. Maybe later."

Yesterday I went to watch the U17 game Germany against Argentina at the National Stadium in Abuja. Too bad we lost, doesn't look good for our team now. We are pretty much out. We still stand a tiny theoretical chance, but let's just be realistic. I think it must have been the weather - at least partially. Coming from the German winter into this climate to play a game at 4pm while it is around 35 degrees makes for a temperature difference of 30 degrees compared to temperatures back home. (Maybe it was also the fact that it was amazingly easy to separate our players from the ball once they got it, the problem of really bad passing and the bad positional play in the defense, but I really want to blame it on the weather).

The game in itself wasn't too spectacular. Being in an basically empty stadium that fits 70.000 people was interesting. Having seats in the "VIP lounge", thus being really close to the field was nice. Being allowed to leave work early to watch a football game was just cool. Compared to my first experience with football in Nigeria (I watched the world cup qualifier Nigeria vs. Tunisia live, it was pretty much the exact opposite of yesterday's relaxed afternoon...) this time things went down much more smoothly. I wonder whether it has anything to do with the fact that my friend from the German Embassy organized the tickets and that we were all dressed in office clothes, coming straight from work, thus looking like a bunch of important white people. It might also have to do with the fact that the stadium was basically empty. Especially during the first half you could pretty much count the people that were there. Following African standards of timing, during the second half (about an hour after the official start of the game) quite a few more people had found their way into the stadium.

Being away from home for a while now, I have to admit that it made me proud to hear the German National Anthem and for the three minutes that it lasted I was a proud little German girl. For me that is a big deal, I usually don't feel very patriotic or have a strong sense of my nationality - I am one of these people that has been successfully indoctrinated that being German is nothing to be proud of, on the contrary: even today being German stands for all the harm and evil that has been done in the name of this our nation. I know that this is not entirely true, but unconsciously I do feel guilty being German. Enough on the lack of German national pride, back to the important things in life: football.

The support bases for both teams were rather limited. In the VIP lounge there were some German fans, I think mainly children of the German employees of Julius Berger or diplomats. Then it was a bunch of other expats (like me and my friends) and a group of Argentina supporters (I guess they were also employees of the Argentinean embassy). Our team had some Nigerian supporters though, a small group of Nigerians had brought their own (kind of huge) German flag, and were cheering for our team. To reciprocate I bought a Nigerian flag to demonstrate my sympathy (but let's be honest, I was actually kind of hoping Nigeria would lose their game against Honduras, so we could still make it into the next round...)

During half time we went inside the VIP lounge were we managed to grab a drink (there was supposed to be food, but even though there basically weren't any people there wasn't enough). Some guy in a wheelchair who had been staring at me ever since we tried to enter the stadium in the most disrespectful manner comes up to "talk" to me. It's funny, when guys come to "talk" to you they don't even give a damn about what you might say. They want to be "your very good friend", and they want to get your number. They don't really care how you are doing or what you are doing in Nigeria, the only information they are interested in is your name (if you are lucky) and your phone number. So that old and very ugly guy (I am sorry, but he really wasn't pretty) was totally ignoring what I was saying, he only started listening when I lied to him that I didn't have a phone (which in Nigeria is like "wow, you don't have a PHONE??" - here everyone has at least two different ones, that are answered no matter what. In the cinema, at work (during meetings), while you are talking to people, ... No matter what, you answer your phone.) I was lucky that some girls came up to talk to me, they are interns for an NGO as well, so I could turn around and engage very actively in another conversation. I thought I had successfully made clear that I really wasn't interested to the guy, I thought turning around and ignoring him henceforth would be enough, but apparently that was not as much of a clear sign of rejection as I would have thought. While I was talking to the other girls he engages one of my (male) friends in a conversation, letting him know that he would really like to marry me. After we had talked for about 30 seconds, in which he hadn't even listened to me at all.

It happens to me that guys "want to be my very good friends" when they see me on the street. Whenever I wait for a taxi somewhere I can be sure that some guy comes up to talk to me. When I walk somewhere (something that is seen as very weird in Nigeria, if you are going somewhere, you drive or at least take a taxi) some car will stop next to me to offer me a ride. Several others will just shout "hey baby", "hi sexy", etc. I am Oyinbo after all, that pretty much makes you a hot commodity around here. But the wheelchair guy was just extreme. I had to let him know that I was not exactly interested, using my friend as a courier again. One would think that this sort of rejection would have its effect. Unfortunately I did not. When the game was over and we were waiting outside for everyone to assemble to go back to Maitama, he comes up to me again. "My friend, I hope you enjoyed the game" (Not even waiting for a reply) "I really like you, do you need a ride?". I really try to avoid being impolite, but that was just too much. I decided to be a stuck up Oyinbo, saying "No", turned around, and ignored his presence until we all left.

The game was fun after all, the marriage thing by now is part of my everyday life, and I met really cool people yesterday. I even saw the Nigerian national U17 team walk by. Not too bad for an average Tuesday.

So far this my blog has missed out on a very crucial aspect of Nigerian pride and culture: the food. Whenever I meet new people they usually ask me the following three questions: “So what are you doing in Nigeria?” “How are you enjoying your time here?” and, most importantly (!) “How do you like the food?” I like the food. Most of it at least. And people are generally very content to hear that. It is a big deal if you as Oyinbo like the traditional Nigerian food. I don’t quite know why, but it is.

Nigerian food is interesting. It mainly consists of onions and peppers. I don’t think I have had any food here that did not contain onions and peppers as its basis. Interestingly enough, often the food doesn’t even taste like much, but it’s very hot. As long as it contains loads of pepper it is considered a good dish. Well, I might be oversimplifying here, but in a way it is true.

Nigerian food is dangerous. Whoever has had their hands (or even worse: eyes) burning after cutting mean little peppers or their skin itch after skinning yams knows what I am talking about. It’s not fun. You have to learn all the little but pivotal rules of what to cut how and what to avoid (and sometimes you learn the hard way...).

Nigerian food does not exactly look nice. Let’s be honest, most of it really does not. It might taste great, but when it comes to the look of it you wouldn’t necessarily call it “pretty”. Some soups or stews look rather slimy and sticky, some look like liquid mud with leaves in it, some just have indistinguishable components that are impossible to disentangle by looking at it. Most of the rather unappealing looking things really do taste nice, but food here is definitely not made with the aim of looking good. Maybe this focus on food aesthetics is a very European thing; I have gotten used to not judging a dish by its appearance anymore.

I have had interesting food experiences. From finding the head and tail of the fish in the fish stew over learning how to eat chicken the African way to discovering the beauty of (pretty tasteless) pounded yam and its function as a sponge for the soup served with it. (For all Non-Africans reading this: “soup” is not necessarily what you would imagine, it is often rather solid and eaten not with a spoon but with some sort of mashed potato side dish that you use as a cutlery replacement).

Eating with my hands has become normal by now; but my first Suya experience remains unforgotten: I was served really nice Chicken Suya (if you ever end up being in Abuja, try out Yahuza VIP Suya Spot, really good stuff), and while I unfold the aluminium foil in which my food is wrapped I ask my roommates: “So where’s the fork?” Not knowing that you eat your Suya (like many other dishes) with your hands (well, technically with one hand, so you still have one ‘clean’ hand). It earned me a round of laughter.

I know that certain things I will definitely miss once I go back to Germany, I love plantain, I like the fish here very much, I like the Suya, Moi-Moi, Egusi soup ... One thing I won’t really miss is the meat. Generally I don’t like meat anyways, but I try it. Here, it has never really been a good experience (maybe also because I have seen them slaughter the goats at the market). There are a few things I miss that are either really hard to get or just ridiculously expensive, e.g. dairy products, even though I sometimes have the rather strange (but okay) yoghurt (see also: for fun, for health, for long life). Milk is generally most readily available as milk powder, which I have come to detest by now, and coffee is generally only very bad instant Nescafe instant coffee; even if you order coffee in a cafe (which are really very rare here), the coffee is bad. I m having a hard time not being able to indulge in my little coffee addiction. My mum already announced that she will make very traditional German food once I come back. All I want is good coffee and wholemeal bread.

Recklessness revisited.

I have been in Nigeria for almost eight weeks now, and in the first seven weeks nothing severe has happened to me. No traffic accidents, no assault or mugging, no kidnapping, no being in mortal danger. There were situations in which I haven't felt too safe, true (just remembering the bus trip from Abuja to Lagos and back, the dead people on the expressway, taking public transport back from work, crossing the highway outside Gwarinpa, being followed by a group of guys by car, ...) But nothing has happened to me. Seven weeks. And then the last three days happened. I am wondering whether its due to my own recklessness (maybe I have been less careful because I feel safe most of the time) or whether its Naija, finally living up to what people tell you about it. Before I went to Nigeria, I have heard all the scary stories. People getting shot in the streets. People getting mugged, kidnapped, raped. I have heard it all. My experiences here so far have been rather different. I am not trying to downplay the dangerous bits, they definitely exist, and I have been careful. But the picture that is painted outside Nigeria is overdramatic. The panic that is created is unneccessary. Speaking for Abuja at least (and judging from my little trip to Lagos) it is not all that unsafe. So I thought. For seven weeks.

The past three days have been crazy. Within only 56 hours I have been involved in a traffic accident, I was very close to being kidnapped (or at least mugged), and I got hit by a freaking keke napep. The accident happened on Monday, while I was coming back from work. I was in a taxi and we were pretty close to my house when we got stuck in the usual bit of Gwarinpa 6 o'clock holdup. My driver was doing what people do here when there is holdup, they just try to overtake from any "lane" (basically, they just try to use any available piece of path to get around the holdup), so we were stuck in the roadside ditch (because his idea of trying to overtake from there proved to be not so innovative, several other cars had done the exact same thing). So while we were waiting, some Jeep decides to turn into the street right before us. My driver can't really move, as there are several cars in front, behind, and besides us. The Jeep driver is starting to become impatient, is giving us light signals and a fair amount of honking, while my driver is trying to somehow get the fact across that we couldn't move. The Jeep driver decides not to consider that little detail and just turns into the street, which is blocked by my taxi. My driver tries to move out of the way, can't find a spot, and thus gets hit laterally. Poor guy, his car didn't exactly look good before the accident, it looks worse now. Luckily, it was only a car body damage and nothing happened to anyone, but I was still under shock for a little while. I decided to walk back to my house (which in the end might have also been faster than being stuck in the holdup).

On Tuesday, I took another taxi back from work. Some rather sinister guy with a very weird voice decides to take a "shortcut" through a pretty run-down area close to Gwarinpa. He leaves the expressway to drive through the bushland and some small ghetto that doesn't have paved roads. It was a strange feeling to begin with, but I only got scared when a bunch of area boys showed up out of nowhere, trying to block the path by just throwing themselves in front of the car. My driver locks all doors and tries to wind up the windows, but taxis are not exactly in a very great shape here, so winding up is a privilege that this specific taxi didn't have. While we were trying to pass, the boys were hitting the car with wooden items, sticking their hands through the half-way wound up windows, trying to open the doors, while yelling at me and the driver. It was scary. At a point my driver just speeded up the car, I think he was freaking out too. The car hit several of the guys, but we got out without the car being totally bashed. When we got close to my place, the stupid driver has the nerve to ask me to pay more than we agreed on, because he avoided holdup and got me out of that situation (the situation he brought me in!). You can imagine my response.

Yesterday I was walking around Gwarinpa at about 7pm. The "pedestrian path" was clogged up by cars parking there, so I had to use the road to walk on. While I am trying to squeeze myself onto the outer corner of the road (recent experiences with traffic around that area left their marks), some keke right next to me engages in a jink, and fully hits me. Instead of at least getting out to check whether I was okay (I was very okay, nothing really happened as he was going rather slow), he stares at me for 30 seconds and then just flies. I got a lot of sympathy avowals by bystanders, and people cursed the keke driver on my behalf, so I guess it was alright.

Let's see what happens after work today.. I am getting used to the idea of somehow being in danger while I go home. I still wonder whether I am the one being reckless or whether it's Naija trying to live up to expectations. I hope I will make it through in one piece ;)

It's the tribe, stupid.

Ethnicity matters quite a bit in Nigeria. Yes, I know about the history of Nigeria, I know about the artificial boundaries that were set around a landmass that was incredibly diverse in terms of ethnicities, cultures, languages, etc. I have heard of the lack of a strong Nigerian nation (there is a difference between state-building and nation-building; but without going into too much detail, let's just say that both did not take place very successfully in Nigeria), I have read about the cleavages, I have heard about the lack of a strong civil society - but I never imagined it to be so stark. People are mostly first of all members of their tribe before they are Nigerian, which is understandable, because the term "Nigeria" is in itself rather meaningless. It is just a name, given to a former British colony, which encompasses different people, different cultures, different ways of living. Paradoxically enough, Nigerians are very proud of their country, even though they do not seem to primarily identify themselves as Nigerians. Most conversations bring up the issue of ethnicity sooner or later. Pretty much everyone I have met here has in one way or the other told me which tribe they belong to. My friends that I stayed with the first few weeks are Ibo, the lady that I stay with now is Yoruba, so is one of my colleagues, the family friend that comes around once in a while is Fulani, most sellers on the local market in my area are Haussa (Abuja is considered to be in the "North" rather than in the South, even though it actually is in the middle of the country).

Each tribe is more or less secluded, through its own language, customs, and specific culture. And there are different rules of social conduct for different tribes. It will be easier for you to get along with people of the same tribe, not only because you share the language, but also because you know the tacit rules. It is obvious that personal relationships are often more close and sincere between two people from the same tribe, whereas inter-tribe relationships seem to be more complicated to maintain. There are certain characteristics (physical features and character attributes) that distinguish the main tribes from one another. I do not want to sound judgmental, but I have to admit that I have observed certain differences between tribes, at least in the people I have met. Yoruba (Southwest of Nigeria) are certainly the most aggressive and loudest. They are stubborn and certainly have an attitude, but they are also very welcoming and warm-hearted and fiercely Christian (bele for hurting anyone's feelings :)). I have the impression that Ibo people (Southeast of Nigeria) are the most open-minded. In comparison to the other tribes, they mix with members from other tribes quite frequently and are on average less conservative (when compared to European standards they are still extremely conservative though..). There tribal bonds might not be as strong, as they were historically fragmented and consolidated only rather recently. The Hausa are mainly concentrated in the North, they have certain bonds with the Arabs and most are either Muslim or follow traditional indigenous beliefs. They are very religious and strict (so no holding hands in Abuja), but their religion also dictates honesty and modesty, so buying from Hausa traders usually leaves you less ripped off than buying from someone from another tribe.

It is fascinating to see how these very different people with their very different cultures, ideas, religions, and ways of living are merged into one nation and manage to live together (mostly) peacefully. There are ethnic/religious conflicts, those mostly emerge in the Northern states, but considering the variety of people these conflicts are rather rare. By now I am actually quite succesful at my own little guessing game: I try to guess which tribe someone belongs to when I meet them, and I can be sure that it comes up somehow, sooner or later, so I can test my prediction. Surprisingly enough, I mostly am right. I think there definitely must be something to ethnic differences in Nigeria.

Maga don pay...

I was told my last post had too much content but no narrative, quantity instead of quality, thus I decided to ponder on only one specific topic today.

Yes, I am white. Yes, I am from the West. No, I don't have money. I am tired of people trying to rip me off wherever I go. It's the taxi drivers (I know by now that it's 400 Naira to get from my workplace in Wuse 2 to my place in Gwarinpa) that tell me prices between 800 and 2.000 Naira, it's the sellers on the markets that want to sell me a basket of tomatoes for 500 (when it's 200), it's the credit guys that "don't have change" and expect you not to insist.

I understand that the common perception of white people is that they are equivalent to money. Sadly enough, some of us aren't. I am doing an unpaid internship with an organization aiming at deepening social democracy in Nigeria. I don't get paid anything whatsoever and I had to make my own arrangements to come to this country and be able to afford working here. What sounds like a paradox and a contradiction in itself in the first place is amplified by the constant attempt by Nigerians to rip me off. I am here to help, I am here to contribute so things might eventually change for the better. I am not crazy, I know that me being here will not change the country dramatically, but I do believe that the work my organization does has an impact and I am part of this organization, actively trying to help. Trying to rip me off wherever I am, no matter what I do is not exactly the kind of gratitude I deserve. God knows I am not one of these rich expats, that stay at Hilton, Sheraton or Nicon Luxury, only sourrunded by other oyinbos and maybe some security personnel. I stay in Gwarinpa with no running water and no electricity most of the time, I buy my food at the market and cook for myself, I even take the bus back from work to save some money. I really do not live a very luxurious life around here, but that still doesn't stop anyone from trying to squeeze money out of me.

It's either money or sex that people see in me. I m not a maga, and I m not here to be someone's mistress. I should really start wearing a sign stating the following: "No, I don't have money - and no, I don't want to sleep with you even if you do."

No be small ting o.. at all.

Back from the crazy place called Lagos. It was an adventure, quite an intense experience. It started off with my fist trip in a keke, followed by crossing the express way to take a bus to the motorpark in kubwa. People were quite shocked to see an Oyinbo in a public bus, apparently I am supposed to take a limousine to wherever I go.

The trip to Lagos was crazy. 12 hours on a fair-plus minibus, squeezed in with 15 other people. Crazy overtaking adventures, huge potholes, endless go-slows, 450 roadblocks and police stops (and my bus had in oyinbo in there, so you can imagine how many times we were stopped). Our driver took us through the most remote villages where the roads are so bad that you cannot even stay on the road itself, but have to use the roadside ditch to not get stuck. It's a continuous change between 3 miles per hour trying to get through the potholes and 140 miles per hour, as soon as the road gets just a little better for a few (kilo-)meters, honking at whatever there is on the road, using any lane, overtaking any sort of vehicle in crazy and seriously dangerous maneuvers. In Nigeria, if you want to overtake, you just overtake. You don't go through all the hassle of checking whether there is enough space or any opposing traffic, you just overtake. Any vehicles coming from the other direction have to move out of your way. Period.

Lagos itself is crazy. It's loud and crowded and smelly. It's fascinating. Anything you need you can buy on the street. Basically everyone is trying to sell something. It looks like only 10 per cent of the people living in Lagos have a regular job that they have to attend. The remaining 90 per cent are either trying to sell you all sorts of stuff or engage in semi-legal to very illegal activities that keep them busy and provide at least some money once in a while. You find area boys, okada drivers, lawyers and bank staff, little kids with plastic bowls on their heads, credit sellers, beggers, security guards at every building. It is a very absorbing place.

I survived my final culture shock. Being introduced to someone's family here is not a simple and easy thing, it is a huge deal. It basically means that you have to meet everyone that is somehow connected to that family: friends, neighbours, your friend's daughter's grandchildren, etc. Also, do not ever object to anything that is said by someone who is older than you. You are not only being disrespectful and rude, you need to keep in mind that you don't know ANYTHING, so you better listen and obey. Life experience apparently teaches you everything you need to know, don't even try to reason scientifically.

Lagos is a dangerous place. Parts of town are locked up between 12 and 6 with several "gates", so no one can enter or leave, if it is not an emergency. Guards patrol the area during these times and you really do not want to be seen on the street, if you value your life as you might just get shot for "security reasons". On Sunday night we drove from Gbagada to Yaba, over the bridge connection the rest of Lagos to Victoria Island and we had to witness a really bad accident. Actually, we didn't witness the accident itself, but we had to drive around the human remains in the middle of the street. It is a dangerous place, in many ways.

On my way back (another endless tour with a minibus) I once again discovered one of the beauties of this country. Not only the beautiful landscape, red ground and endless areas of green, but the beautiful people. We stopped at a gas station and I was trying to follow a group of ladies to the bathroom. I jumped over a little wall to keep up with them, not considering that the ground on the other side was pure mud. I managed to slip and fall into the mud, being covered in it, facing another 7 hours on the bus. The second I fell everyone was being so understanding, caring, and sympathetic, it was touching. I think I got at least 4.000 "bele" and "sorry o"s from everyone. Someone showed me where to wash off the mud, and I was shown a room to change my clothes. I actually delayed the whole bus, something that under any other circumstance always gets people really angry, but after my mud episode everyone was being really sweet. I didn't even hurt myself, but I embarassed myself to death. Thank god I won't have to see anyone who witnessed my accident ever again.

A Roland for an Oliver ... not!

Double standards are a core element of life here. Someone is a Christian, goes to Church regularly for service and bible studies, to worship and honour God. Fine. You see that exact same person Saturday night around 11pm in a club, basically naked, grinding some random dude. Someone is married for 3 years, has a baby girl of 18 months and has been cheating on his wife for the past two years: commonly accepted. A married woman at a bar, even behaving modestly, no guy in sight: big deal. As a woman there are many things you cannot do. Well, let's say you could do them, but you will have to accept that everyone will run their mouth about you. And gossiping is one of the most favourite leisure activities around here ("Oh my god! Did you hear what this person did?").

Men do not really respect women in this country. They are an acquisition, and as soon as you are married, the woman is all yours. As a guy you can now go have your affairs, because that is the common thing to do, while you once in a while knock up your wife. Sunday in Church you show up with your "perfect little family", while everyone knows that you have done half of the choir chicks, while already married. As a woman you don't get much of a choice. Yes, you can get a divorce, but it's difficult and makes you look loose and inconsistent in the eyes of society. You could secretly decide to cheat on your husband as well, to pay him back (or get what he is not giving to you, attention, care, love), but it will be basically impossible, as your husband has a "right" to know where you are and what you are doing at all times. He might even send his friends and/or family over to check on you while he is at work (or at a hotel room spending the evening with someone else). Also, mostly you are dependent on the grace of your husband. He might just not allow you to get a job, so he can control you even more.

My auntie (she is actually just the person I stay with and she is about the same age as my mother, which automatically makes her my auntie) recently told me that she hopes that I will get married to a Nigerian and stay in the country. Whereas I might think about the latter, the former is not exactly in my plans, considering what I have observed so far.

The art of being patient, persistent, and pain-resistent.

Everything you do here takes long. Long as in longer than expected; longer than back home. Even if its only the simple act of doing the dishes, it involves going out to fetch some water, warming it up, cleaning every singly item, rinsing it, putting it back. Doing laundry takes half a day, if you do it properly, and that doesnt guarantee that your clothes are really clean (well, that also depends on your skill and patience), you need to fetch water, heat it up, soak your clothes, wash them, rinse them, and put them up to dry. If someone asks how I spend my weekends I have to admit that this is pretty much all I do: I clean, I do laundry, I go buy groceries, and before you know the weekend is over. I sometimes contemplate to give up the fight against bacteria, bugs, dust, and dirt. They seem to be omnipotent and my time-consuming efforts to fight them seem rather futile.

I have learned to be more patient, to accept that things take time. People here have known all along. Maybe thats why they are never in a hurry (except for the case of go slow, where everyone all of a sudden gets extremely impatient to get to their destination). In general though, people don't seem to see the point of hurrying up, no matter what they are doing. In a way, it is a very beautiful way of living, taking time for things.

I sometimes tend to fall back into my German Oyinbo behaviour - I walk fast, I expect things to happen fast, I expect to be served fast, I get my stuff at work done three days before the deadline. I need to remember that efficiency is a particularly German invention, which is not really a part of everyday life in Nigeria. You take your sweet time for doing stuff, and no one (apart from strange Oyinbo people) minds.

Nigeria doesn't cease to amaze me. I go to work using the same route every day and still just looking out the window makes me smile. Monday mornings start off well when I can watch everyday things happening around Abuja. People, markets, chicken and goats everywhere, crazy driving adventures, plastic toys being sold on the street, people walking by the side of the highway. It is beautiful to watch how people cope with the challenges of no water and NEPA power failures.

By now, I should have probably gotten used to the way people stare at me, most of the time I don't even notice it anymore. I have to be made aware, if its not in a pretty drastic way (cars slowing down next to me while I walk, a whole truck of guys following my taxi for ten minutes, etc.). It's become part of the experience. I wonder whether black people feel the same way when they enter a predominantly white country. Do they get stared at the same way? I wonder..

Hitler, Naira, and call-in shows.

Hitler is popular in Nigeria. Being German had to bring out his name at some point. It is one thing people all over the world know about Germany. To me, it is shocking how people think about someone I consider the most terrible and horrifying dictator of the 20th century, who believed in white supremacy, and killed millions of people. Three of my friends here actually told me that they admire him - and when they see my face after telling me this they quickly start to explain how they do not believe in what he believed in (at least!), but that he was a strong leader with an ambition, who was able to elate a people. I have to admit that I am overly sensitive when it comes to this particular part of my country's history. I try not to be, but even in my generation many people still have that sense of collective guilt. I cannot and do not want to understand how anyone can see anything positive in this man, who managed to create a concept of an enemy based on the belief that the Aryan race was supreme to any other. It suprises me over and over again to hear how people who would have been deported, tortured, and killed if they had been alive during the Nazi regime can straight up tell me that he was not only bad. He was. And what he did was a tragedy and a desaster for the human race. The world is a better place without him, and I strongly urge people to stop seeing the positive side of Hitler. There is none.

Different topic: Naira notes are disgusting. They are greasy and dirty and just gross. especially 1000 Naira notes (worth around 5 Euros) are very very used and very trashy. You should watch out when changing money or getting change, so they do not give you the ones that are stapled together in the middle or that do not actually say what they are worth because they are just too crappy, because those ones no ones wants and you usually cannot pay with them. You can try exchanging them at a bank, but going to a bank in Nigeria usually is alot of hassle. It is funny how many notes you carry around on a normal day, because the currency just is not worth much. Today I have 4000 Naira on me (around 20 Euros) to pay for my taxi back, to buy credit for my phone, and to dash the police (or anyone else) in case I have to. If you have to pay a larger sum, lets say at a club or a restaurant, it seems to be a ritual for guys to take out a huge pile of Naira notes (preferrably 500 Naira notes) and then count down the amount that has to be payed, taking their sweet time, and often counting twice. Usually quite a pile of notes is handed over (Just imagine paying a bill of 80 Euros with notes that are worth around 2.50). And guys do enjoy it - it is their time to show how much they are worth. Well, as they are paying for everyone and everything I think they deserve their little moments.

Every day when I come back from work and listen to the radio while in the taxi I notice how people seem to be huge fans of call-in shows, and I have to wonder why. No information is actually ever conveyed, due to desastrous mobile networks. Usually it goes as follows: Moderator: Hello, who is speaking? Caller: "....hello?...o? rihe... ekjgie.." M: "Can you hear me?" C:"Hello?" M:"Hello Madam, what is your opinion on the matter?" C: "jkhfkjhar... okdhnfo... (line breaking)" M:"Please call back! Who is next? Hello?" Caller2: "This is ....sdfje calling from Maitama, I ..gth. .. ......faksjdhauh ... aksdjhfa... (line breaking)" M:"Hello? Can you hear me?" C2:"So.. iadshglksh... laskhjdfoih.. kdejg" M:"Thank you for your opinion!" It is very funny to listen to, but I wonder why this seems to be the most famous evening entertainment on the radio. Well, I m grateful for any sort of entertainment, as mostly there are no lights when I come home, thus I do not have too many options of what to do. I can go bug hunting in the candle light, which is now one of my most favourite activities.

Come now sister o!

The market is the social focal point in Abuja, I m guessing it is like this all over Nigeria. Whatever you need, you will find it in the market. Getting your toe-nails polished while looking for your dinner, that might still be alive and will be slaughtered right in front of you, or getting your shoes, suitcases, electric devices fixed. Anything is possible. Markets are not only the place to shop, they are the place for social exchange, gossip, for being seen (and showing off). People might spend a whole day in the market, not buying anything.

If you buy something though, you have to bargain. It's part of the deal, and for most people it's part of the fun. There are no fixed prices for anything, everything is pretty much up to your skills. It helps alot if you have an approximate idea of how much things are supposed to cost. And it helps if you are not oyinbo. I m too polite to be able to really bargain hard. People yell over prices and get into little fights about how they never paid that much for a basket of oranges ("Brother, Ramadan is over - no go try rip me off").

Yesterday, one of our office drivers was arrested. Like many people here, he uses his car as a taxi when he goes to work in the morning and makes a few bucks from taking people along. The police stopped him for a traffic offense (I wonder which one, as people drive the way they want to drive anyhow; I didn't even think there were any particular traffic rules), and he must have reacted in the wrong way, so they took him to the police station and put him under arrest. Usually, you get out of that sort of trouble by dashing them, but dashing the police is quite expensive, and if they repeatedly stop you and expect you to pay it definitely is too much money you are going to spend for not actually having done anything. One way of getting out of such situations is knowing the right people (or pretending to know the right people), and casually mention how you could just call Mr. xyz, so he could help resolving the matter.

We got our driver back, he is up and running today again. Our very clever accountant managed to talk the police out of keeping him (they do not really gain anything from that anyhow). He is also the guy who achieved a tax clearance, which is quite a success, because the government has decided to tax the office with retrospective effect for 2006, 2007, and 2008. Taxing retroactively seems the new strategy to counteract the economic recession.

The rule of law is extremely weak. It shows in little details of everyday life and it especially shows in the abuse of police power or random government decisions aimed at enriching themselves. Corruption is rampant, dashing the right people is the (only) way to avoid being harrassed, arrested, or worse. I knew about this before I came here - but seeing it happen so openly every day is still shocking.

The art of Nigerian timing

People here cannot be on time. Never. It's impossible. They are caught in a vicious cycle of being late and there just is no escape.

Just imagine the simple situation of a guy coming to pick up a girl. In my country, you would just say: "I ll be there at 5 to pick you up", and the girl would most probably be ready to go by then. Things are different here. First of all, people don't really give you a time, they just say "I ll come pick you up later today". Fine. So, because everyone expects the other person to be late, people take their time to not have to wait. It's a guessing game. Or rather, it is like chess. You pick a strategy, with the aim of not being the one waiting for the other person.

When my (girl)friends were picked up by their dates, they would not start getting ready before the guy actually calls to say "I m right outside!". That would be the time for them to get into the shower, start dressing up, putting on make-up. Meaning that it would at least take 30-45 minutes before they would be ready to go, while the guy "is waiting right outside". Well, when a guy tells you he is "right outside" he most probably isn't. Knowing that the girl he wants to pick up will not be ready anyways, he calls from whereever he is to tell you that he is "right outside". Mostly he is not ready either and still at home, or a 20 minutes drive away, but he is trying to make sure that once he gets there he doesn't have to wait for another 30 minutes. A friend of mine told me that I had no idea of what Nigerian girls put them through. I didn't. Now I do. On the other hand, guys aren't that much better. They might make you wait for hours before they finally decide to show up, and it's not a big deal. It's just how it is. Telling someone that you have been waiting for them doesn't really evoke any sort of apology. It's the way things are. Actually, I was told that I should be happy Nigerian time does not compare to Botswanian time. Apparently, as long as someone shows up the same day they are "on time". Here, you "only" wait for a couple of hours. Hmm.

To do justice though, some people do manage to be on time. My taxi driver who gets me to work in the mornings has been on time for two weeks straight now. He hasn't been late ever since, rather he once complained "Madam, 5 minutes past now", because I was the one coming out of the house 5 minutes late. I told him I was adjusting to Nigerian time. No be small thing o!

For fun, for health, for long life

...says my yoghurt. Things, companies, products, just everything has very interesting names and descriptions here. They either somehow refer to God or Jesus, or are in general very poetic ("Spring of Knowledge Academy", "Peace and Unity Driving School", "Tender Years Primary School").

I have had a long weekend, Monday and Tuesday were public holidays, the end of Ramadan. On Friday I went to my colleagues housewarming party, him and his roommate, who works at the German Embassy in Abuja, have a really nice place in Maitama, including a pool, 24hrs. electricity, and warm water from the tab (which now seems like a luxury to me). I have learned that expats are generally very nice to one another, there seems to be a sense of community, which I couldn't quite grasp yet. A very nice German couple drove me home, all the way from Maitama to Gwarinpa, which is a 20 minutes drive, and either them nor me knew the way very well, so we were randomly driving through Abuja, but actually made it to my place in 30 minutes, which isn't all that bad, considering none of us really knew how to get there.

My friends are all leaving now, going back to Uni in England, and I m sure I will miss them quite alot. Not only have they taken really good care of me, but they also felt responsible and watched out for me, which meant protecting me while going clubbing, making sure I wouldn't smile at strangers, because I randomly do and here it's not something you just do, it always seems to be an invitation for more..

Meeting people here is very interesting. Guys tend to tell you the most unbelievable things. Basically, everyone is a pilot and can get you a jump seat to anywhere you wanna go. Or they successfully work for the Government and if there is anything you need or want they will be able to arrange it for you. "Anything you need.." Hmm, I wonder. I have not taken anyone up on that offer, but I might just do it for fun one of these days and then see what happens (I guess nothing will happen and I will hear interesting excuses why they will not be able to do what they promised).

Nigerian men are very generous, even if they don't have much money. A friend of mine really doesn't have anything but when I randomly mentioned that I wanted to buy credit (actually wanting to buy it myself) he just bought me a recharge before I could say anything (even though it was only for 100 Naira, which maybe makes for a 3minutes call, but I still thought it was really nice). When we go out clubbing or to a bar or a restaurant one of our friends always pays for us (meaning: all of us), and it seems to be the most common thing to do. I will come back home totally spoiled with attention and generosity. It's more of a big deal if someone invites you or pays for your drinks in Germany than it is here. It is expected that the guy who takes you out pays for all your expenses. Sometimes it is really hard for me to just accept, because I am used to paying for myself, and only once in a while let someone pay for me. Here, you don't even get a chance to pay for yourself as a girl. It's strange in the beginning, but its also amazingly generous and sweet.

A friend of mine asked what I miss about home, and it was hard to give a good answer to that. There are some things I miss, like just being able to wash my hands without having to fetch water from outside, being able to watch a movie without power going off 20 minutes before the end, or the possibility of crossing the street without the danger of being killed. Those aren't really important things though, I can live without them. I rather miss people, my family, my friends, but more surprisingly, I already know now how much I will miss Nigeria. I will miss the chicken suya, the "oyinbo, oyinbo" on the streets, the warm-hearted and welcoming people here. It's a strange strange feeling that overcomes me once in a while. I m really having a good time here, I m enjoying it, and I m happy I went here against all odds. It was the right decision after all, even though I had to fight for it.

It's funny, how people think about Germans here. Everyone who has a German boss or supervisor tells me how stressed they are because they always have to be on time and work so much to finish things on time, how they have to work efficiently and how Germans are so perfectionist. It's funny to me because when I was growing up in Germany, I always just assumed that's how it is. Spending 3 years in Jacobs partially changed my mind, but being here the contrast and difference in work ethics is just so stark. My colleagues here consider my (very nice, very efficient, very German) boss a tyrant.. He is sort of a work-a-holic, and expects people to get stuff done while they work (typically German and actually very normal to me), but people here think he stresses out way too much. Work really is not the most important thing in people's life, it's just this thing that pays the bills.

Rambling on about work ethics, I only have 3 working days this week, but instead of using them like a proper German I have been writing on this blog. Time to get back to good old German virtues...

People, Politics, and Dishwashing detergent

I love going to work in the morning. It's a 30-minutes drive from Gwarinpa into Wuse II. Even though it is the same route every morning, I find it exciting and fascinating every day. Starting from the market and the corner shops in my neighbourhood, the chicken and goats wandering around the streets, from the mama-puts and sellers on the street (rather on the highway) that sell anything from plastic toys to chewing gum, to Jabi lake, and the entry into the central area, where people get off the bus and take a taxi, which results in chaos every morning.

People dress very well. Anyone seems to put at least some effort into choosing what to wear. Apparently, clothing is used as a sign of well-being; only the very poor cannot afford to dress passably well. Also, I envy how dark skin just goes so well with bright and beautiful colours. Nigerians dress in the most beautiful colours, and many wear traditional clothing on an every day basis. I hardly see anyone wearing sunglasses, which I couldn't stand for long.

Something I noticed while talking about politics with people here (it always comes up when they ask me what I do and I tell them that I work for a German NGO), many do still wish for a military ruler, thus a dictatorship. The question of leadership is considered very important, many of the apparent problems are blamed on the lack of suitable leaders. While I agree that most Nigerian presidents have not exactly shown extraordinary leadership capabilities, I m afraid that the desire for a military ruler indicates the lack of democratic values, which in turn might also be a reason the Nigerian democracy can only be considered a farce. I don't want to go into too much detail here, this is just an observation, and not representative.

Another observation concerning a totally different topic is the following: apparently Cussons "morning fresh - best ever formula" dishwashing detergent has a strong monopoly on the Nigerian market for dishwashing detergent. Everywhere I have been to I have only seen this specific dishwashing detergent. Same for black tea and coffee. It's lipton's yellow label black tea and nescafe instant coffee respectively. I should consider finding a market niche and come up with my own monopoly. So much for my plans for this weekend.

I luv u witout knwinn hw, or wen, or 4rm where...

Nigerian men consider themselves very romantic. I have heard this statement at least ten times now. Romantic, ah well. There seems to be a very distinct concept of romantic that is particularly Nigerian. It doesn't have anything to do with the Western perception of romantic, meaning candle-light dinners, long walks and deep conversations, holding hands watching the sunset (sorry for being so cliché); Nigerian romance is totally different. It might mean that your date takes you out to watch a football match at some random place, where you sit on plastic chairs and have a beer, while he is talking to his friends about the game. It might mean that a guy makes you wait several hours before he comes to pick you up for your first date, giving you random excuses for why he will be late, while he calls you every 20 minutes to tell you that "I m on my way", "I m very close now", "I ll be there in a few".

But the most romantic part is when they tell you that they love you, right away. When they say that they wouldn't mind getting married to you right now. When they send you text messages like "you have made me happy, decorated my heart wit sweet emotions n my face wit lovely smiles" when you know each other for one whole day. When they keep on explaining how much you mean to them and how they will do "just anything" for you, after you have spent 2 hours together, when they say they will "chop bullet" for you, or when they refer to you as "their wife" in front of their friends during your first date.

Certainly, they are not afraid of big words. But I m starting to be afraid of them. At least when they start being "romantic". There doesn't seem to be a process of getting to know each other, spending time together to find out what the other person is all about. It's love, right away, no more questions asked, no more details needed. In a sense, it actually is very romantic.

Na mi get road but e come shunt me

Traffic go kill me - it's probably the most dangerous thing I have been involved in ever since I got here (Apart from the football game I'd say). I talked with my taxi driver about it this morning, he asked me about the way we drive in Germany, and all I could say was: "Well, it's different. There are rules and stuff." I m guessing that there are actually rules here, but I can't quite figure out what exactly the rules are. I m still trying to figure out the signs the policeman makes at the crossroads. The impressive thing about Abuja are its extremely well-built and new roads, highways, and expressways (thanks to Julius Berger, which is a German company no one in Germany ever heard of, but they are such a big deal here), so people really speed. Also traffic lights are in place. Those aren't working though, so during peak times, policemen regulate the traffic at the crossroads in a very confusing manner. I am actually thinking about taking driving lessons - there is a "Unity and Peace Driving School" close to my home. Maybe I will learn what the random waving and pointing is supposed to indicate. Surprisingly, there are less accidents than I would have expected (I see at least one every day, but that's little, considering the way people drive).
The picture shows the inside of the car that brought me back from work yesterday.

This morning when I got off the cab to get to work some huge, brand new car stopped next to me and some guy was trying to hand me his card. I didn't take it from him, because I wasn't sure what exactly he wanted from me. Turns out he just "admired me" and wanted me to call him. When I didn't react right away he jumped out of his car (tall guy in a very formal suit) and in the middle of a quite busy street he yells: "Madame (Every lady here is a "Madame"), please call me! I admire you! Promise to call!" Which was not only a really funny situation, but attracted the attention of my office's security personnel, as well as my taxi driver's concern; he would not leave until I had entered the office building. I find it cute, how any male person you meet, whether it's your friend's friend, the guy you buy your credit from, or just the guy who gets you to work in the morning seems to feel responsible for you and gets very jealous when he catches you talking to another male person.

Yesterday I went shopping. The store close to my office is called "Assorted Supermarket" - well, it really is not very assorted. I now know how people in the former GDR must have felt. Most shelves are half-empty, they have mostly only one or two items of any product. I was the only customer in the shop, surrounded by at least 6 employees. I am not sure, whether this "Assorted Supermarket" is a very profitable business.

Another lesson I learned yesterday: any lady that could technically be your mum, but isn't your mum is your auntie, so you call them aunty, which is very funny to me. It is considered more formal than using their first name. Your dad (baba, at least in Yoruba), uncle, and your dad's/uncle's friends, as well as your older male cousins basically only have one function: to give you money whenever they meet you. It's expected, and if they don't they are considered uncaring and stingy, which is a real insult to any Nigerian man, as they are generally very generous.

I have had Nigerian beer for the first time. Mind you, I m German, so beer is kinda a big deal and considered part of our culture ("Lieber Frau und Kind erschießen, als einen Tropfen Bier vergießen"). I have to say that "Star" (that's the brand I tried) isn't all that bad. But it gives you a headache the next day, even if you've only had a few cans (I m missing the Reinheitsgebot).

Something remarkable about the way of living in Abuja that I have discovered recently: there is a pretty clear distinction between Nigerians and Expats. There are certain places where I feel like I m in Europe, mostly white people, only the employees seem to be Nigerian. Expats have their own little communities. There is a large community of Lebanese people - they have their own restaurants and businesses. I m still not sure, why exactly Lebanese.. And then there are other places, like the area I live in, where people seem to never encounter any white people, thus they stare at you like you re an alien. So far, I haven't encountered many places in which there is a mean between the two extremes.

Apparently, I still blow oyinbo most of the time, so I m trying to adjust. But bodi dey inside cloth.

a life of contrasts

I stay in a very simple apartment, no water, no generator, no luxuries. We live next to a market and a variety of corner shops, the ground is covered in huge piles of trash. Goats, sheep, and chicken run on the streets, children play football barefoot everywhere. Women carry water buckets on their head through the neighbourhood.

The other day, a friend took us out in his brand new car. Air-conditioned, impressive sound system, leather interiors. We went to a place called "Clubhouse", had Shisha, fancy drinks, were seated next to a pool. His friends joined us, and later we all went to a club called "Play", where we had more fancy drinks and a great time.

I wake up in the morning and the first thing I do is getting water from outside to take a shower. I hope that the power might turn on, so I can blow-dry my hair or iron something to wear to work. I have breakfast sitting on the floor, because there's no such thing as a dining table. When I leave the house to get to work I have a few words with the neighbours on how the weather looks like and that fruits are so expensive during Ramadan.

Yesterday, I visited my colleagues in Maitama, to watch a debate on German TV. They have satellite TV. They also have a pool right outside, air-conditioning, a fully well-equipped kitchen, marble floor in the living room, and 24hrs. electricity, not to mention the security guard, who opens the gate only for invited guests. We ate lasagne and had German liquor while watching.

On my way back to my place the taxi driver bought roasted peanuts on the street from a guy selling them from a plastic bucket he was carrying on his head for maybe 200 Naira. Next to him, another guy was holding two whole chicken to sell.

It's a life of contrasts.

and the adventure is on...

following several requests for more detailed information on my new life, I have decided to open a blog to keep anyone interested updated on a more or less regular basis.

I don't even know where to start. I have spent 13 days in this country, and each day has been exciting and new and full of discoveries. I am doing a 3-months internship with the Friedrich-Ebert-Stiftung in Abuja, Nigeria and it's my first time outside Europe. So much for the basics.

First thing I noticed: it's damn hot here, like really hot. And moist. I felt like running against a wall when I stepped out of the airport. Abuja International Airport, probably the tiniest and most basic "international" airport I have ever seen. On our way to the apartment, I made my first encounter with the speed bumps - a very annoying and useless tool to slow down the traffic. Oh Lord, the traffic.. I m not exactly sure how to describe it. There seems to be one rule: honking helps. No matter what's happening. Other rules include: drive as fast as you can whereever you can (meaning: when there are no speedbumps, roadblocks, or random police controls), overtake from anywhere as much as possible, ignore any traffic or warning signs, and turn in the middle of the street whenever necessary. Me and my friends, who came to pick me up, got pulled over by the police - actually for no reason apart from the fact that the officer wanted to have a look at me, an Oyinbo, in a car with four black people. So much for the abuse of police power. They let us go though, and we didn't even need to dash them. So much for a warm welcome.

So far, the most exciting activities I have engaged in was 1. Church, 2. Football, live at the Stadium. Nigeria vs. Tunisia (actually, the most exciting part was getting into the Stadium itself) and 3. Going to Wuse Market on a Saturday morning.

1. I wish I could describe what Church is like here, but there's just no way of explaining when you have never experienced it yourself. It is crazy, and loud (very loud), and overwhelming. It's a lot of shouting, a lot of extremely loud music, and a lot of frenzy. It can't be adequately described, but one thing is for sure: it's nothing like service in Europe. At all. People like going to church, and they give money to their church, even if they don't have any. The church we went to is called "House on the Rock" - it's actually still under construction, because it has just been renovated recently, but yet there's daily service. The church is celebrating it's 10 year-anniversary, thus there are special events taking place every day.

2. Football is a big deal in Nigeria. A huge deal. And the game Nigeria vs. Tunisia was an important one, determining Nigeria's chances of qualifying for the World Cup 2010. Even though Nigeria is not totally out yet, the draw against Tunisia (2:2) put them in a difficult position. As far as the game itself is concerned, not much can be said. It wasn't a great game. A lot more can be said about what that day taught me about Nigeria: firstly, we did not have tickets for the game, but one phone call later, we were all set and ready to go. (Lesson 1: you can get in anywhere or get anything if you just know the right people). Secondly, there did not seem to be a coherent plan of how to get people to and into the stadium. Only one gate was open, but there was no way of knowing where it was or how you could get to it. Thus, people decided to climb fences and bridges, trying to get in. We actually just dashed the police a few times to be allowed in, which resulted in a crowd of mad Nigerians following us, which then in turn resulted in the police deciding to beat people up to hold them back (Lesson 2: If you have money, you have all the possibilities in the world; Lesson 3: the police is always right, even if they decide to first stop people with electric poles, clubs, and warning shots, just to let everyone pass in the end). The stadium supposedly fits 80.000 people. For some reason, twice as many tickets had been sold. There was an incredible amount of people in the stadium - just try to imagine the soundscape when Nigeria scored (Lesson 4: there are rules and regulations for everything, but no one ever cares). I think, the game and everything that came with it was my first really authentic Nigerian experience (and I really do hope my mum never gets to read this, but just in case: I m sorry mummy, I was really trying to be careful and everything, but there was just no other way. I survived it, I m fine - I only got shocked but not hurt).

3. Wuse Market. Well, a market is a market in Europe, it's definitely something else in Nigeria. You can buy everything at the market, literally everything, you can also get your toenails painted or your hair done. It's an amazingly busy and intimidating place, but at the same time it is amazingly impressive and stunning. My German colleague and I went to Wuse market on a Saturday morning, having a couple of things in mind we wanted to buy. While I was waiting for her for about 20 minutes, I was not only offered to buy bread, recharge cards, plastic bags, tissues, a blender, a clock, plastic chairs, flipflops, and motor oil, I was also asked to marry someone right away. Our tour over the market was exhausting but succesful. If you keep on saying "no, thank you." "Just looking", "no, I m not interested", you might make it through. As a white person you will hear "Oyinbo pepe" like a billion times. Also, sellers will give you ridiculous prices, approximately five times the actual price. You need to stay tough and bargain hard.

So far, I love it here. The people are amazing, I have found really cool friends, and I m happy I had the chance to come here. Even though I sometimes miss taking a hot shower (especially Monday mornings) I have gotten used to so many things so quickly: the most important question you ask yourself when coming home: "will there be lights in the house?" (and usually there aren't). When you're an oyinbo people assume you're daft. They try to rip you off whereever you go, so you better know the prices. Apart from that, my biggest problem is that I am genuinely too nice. People don't take a "no" for a no (especially guys), if you fail to be very serious and categorical.