Oyibo

Back here in the UK we have a mulit cultural society. We are conditioned to interact in a certain manner.We have, what we are told, is a ' Socially Evolved Society '. In Nigeria it is a Mono Cultural Society. Yes there are over 500 tribes and languages. With three main ones are, Ibo in the west, Hausa in the north and Yoruba in the east.And whilst there are two main religions, Islam and Christianity, culturally, they all sing off the same hymn sheet.( See what I did there.....comedy genius.)

I say all this,as what is ' normal ' here, isn't ' normal ' there. And visa versa.So I wanted to share some mentality differences and some of the incidents born of those differences.Remember, I am the only white man.

" Oyibo ".

All across the African continent I was shouted at, sometimes in a very friendly manner. Sometimes children flocked around me. Sometimes it was with utter contempt. The names I was called all had one thing in common.....they meant 'white man'.

In Nigeria, despite all the different tribal languages and English being spoken to varying degrees. From absolutely nothing to fluent. 'Oyibo' means ' white man '. And the mentality I constantly met was one of interest and intrigue. But also, one of ' you are white, you are rich and i want your money'. Political Correctness does not exist and so honesty flourishes.The people speak much more openly than we do in the UK.Can you imagine a black man shouting out " hey white man " ? And the response being " hi black man " . All said tongue and cheek. But for them, there is no reason to know my actually name, as I am the only white man. So, Oyibo is enough.

Nigeria, along with all of Africa is completely informal, by our standards. Complete strangers will speak to you, as if long lost relatives. People will speak to you briefly at a bar and then just join you at your table.And speak as if you've always known each other.( One of my biggest cultural shocks, has actually been coming back to the UK.And back to everyone ignoring each other.By comparison.) But with this is both good and bad. As in my experience, 90 % had an agenda. An agenda as I was ' Oyibo '. It was to a point that when someone befriended me and sat at my table, I was counting the seconds till he or she wanted something from me.All the pleasant and friendly chat was usually just a sales pitch at the end of the day. But once you know it's a game and don't let on that you do, you are empowered.

Cigarettes and normally Benson & Hedges, are 200 N a packet. ( 260 N to £1.) Your new ' friend' sits at your table and within 2 minutes he will have helped himself to a fag.( Americans reading this. No happy, happy men are involved in this moment.! ) .He then will order a Star beer, costing 300 N. Chat with you like you're his best mate.Tell you he would love to see the UK and when are you going to invite him over. When he gets told its not possible, he gets up and moves onto his next bar. It's cost you a beer, as it's a tab on your table and a couple of cigarettes. Fifteen minutes later, the next one comes over and befriends you......

....' you are white, you are rich and I want your money..'.......

Whilst these moments are both frequent, at almost conveyor belt speed.They don't actually cost too much, yes on principle its wrong. By our social standards. But i promise you, you will never change the African mentality, of how they view the white man.There is a view that we some how magically just have lots of money.Education and hard work are never part of the formula. Just that ' we ' have money.The end.

But I can also confirm, that I have also been invited to tables by complete strangers and treated like a celebrity or something. What ever drink I wanted and ....ahum....just point at which women you want.!!
Women in Africa are completely subservient to the man. Completely.Not only do they look after the home and the children.They make the food, Yam Yam for example, taking hours of pounding with a large pole.Into a tree trunk. To make it eatable.( Its a bit like potato and glue.) Then the women are expected to do ' any lifting in the bush '.You will see them walking with huge stacks of 10 ft long wooden logs on their heads, for miles, back to the mud huts. The men seem to all gather under large trees and stay in the shade.Often drinking Palm Wine.

I did say our cultures and society are very different. Almost to the point of being opposite. Yet, in Africa, it works just fine.

As ' Oyibo ', i did have more than one incident involving guys ramming their elbows into my back, whilst in a club near my hotel.I put up with it twice and then told them what I thought.Which seemed to surprise them.It's a fine line between standing up for decency and being perceived as an arrogant ' Oyibo'.But in my experience, you do it right, other Nigerians come to your aid.

Whilst in the same club, I was invited over to table. The guy who invited me kept getting up to have his picture taken, mainly with girls. Turned out he was from Ethiopia, spoke fantastic English and had just won Big Brother Africa.The man next to him sent a message over to me, apparently he was a famous DJ in Calabar. And when he found out my motorbike story, wanted to interview me.

That night as I walked the 200 m back to my hotel.At the bottom of the road I was staying on, lay some logs. ( Which means illegal road block.) Knife in my right boot, but with alcohol in my body....out jumped two men with huge machetes!!! Machetes raised and shouting. I lowered my head slightly, turned my empty hands towards them and just said " Oyibo". " How's it going, are you security "  ? ( Local Vigilantes. ) They said ' yes '. Accepted I wasn't a threat and walked me to my hotel. Me talking all the way.....and no, I have no idea what i was saying. I just wanted to keep them on side. One of them scrapped his machete along the railings of the metal Hotel fence and shouted the security inside.Certainly could have been a different moment, but it all worked out in the end.It helps if you know how they think. Or at least try to.

Next blog is about how I sold my little motorbike in Nigeria and the final bribes I paid to get out of the country.

I've put myself through al ot and cost myself my home, all possessions and now my savings.I'm not claiming the dole and am living off my Overdraft. Daily I risked my life all across Africa. I did it to raise awareness and donations for wounded servicemen.They sit in wheel chairs....without legs. Help me to help them stand, stand with dignity. Please click the Help for Heroes logo top right. Make a donation please.

Will

Calabar

Calabar....what to say. Well, if there were a Head Quarters for scams, lies, blags, con men, racism and violence. Calabar is where it would be !!

You are not a person with a name. You are simply ' the white man,you are rich and I want your money' . At no stage was I in the minority,  I was simply ' the only white man '.

I was in a half decent hotel in Calabar. It had wifi, all be it intermittent, due to the power cuts. Which was on ,off , like Morse Code.

I was in Calabar to buy my Visa for Cameroon.  The border of which,  was about two hours away. Cameroon,  like Nigeria,  has a lot of armed illegal road blocks. They have logs across the road, then long planks of wood with six inch nails coming out. Attached to rope. If you try to go through the road block, the rope is pulled, the plank with nails blocks the road. You ride over the nails, the bike tyres will be shredded.  Then the vigilante come at you,armed with machetes.

You are not in the UK. You are not in Europe. Nobody is coming to help you. There are no police to call. It's kill or be killed.

Which brings me onto a very tough decision I had to make. My bike needs fuel, petrol.  I need fuel,it's called donations. Due to hitting saturation point, my challenge has barely had a donation in six weeks. 

Whilst in Calabar, I decided that to risk my life daily. And risk it I did,was futile. The whole point of the Challenge was to raise money for our wounded servicemen.  And despite mine and others best efforts. We could not get the Challenge into the national media.

So with tears in my eyes,I decided to sell my bike in Nigeria. And make my way back to the UK.  Total raised so far.....nearly £7,500. Not too shabby. With this,we have definitely helped to improve the lives of our wounded servicemen. Many of whom are without arms and legs. Can you imagine that ??

"No money for you ",say our politicians! ! All whilst they give away £12,000,000,000 of our British Tax payers money. To countries like India and China. Both of which have Space Programmes! ! Disgusts me to the very core.

I am going to do two more blogs. Next one will be the numerous incidents I was involved in. Whilst in Calabar. To give you a taster.  They involve constant scams. Demands of money from Police.  A 9mm Browning pistol at someones head.Machetes at mid night. Selling my bike to an under cover cop. Oo the list goes on.

The "thank you's " are coming.

Will

Abuja

Ok. Just a quick one. As I've written this once already. But won't upload.

Angola is not issuing visas. The end. And that's why I'm here in abuja. So.....I'm going to have to ship around the country. No idea how. But that's what I have to do. Will let you know,  just as soon as I know :))

Abuja is pretty nice. No more bush meat. No more illegal road blocks. No more civilians with guns. ( That I can see anyway. )

When I was in the last town,getting my bike fixed. A crowd of one hundred people arrived. Kids from the school. It was crazy. It was bloody embarrassing! ! Head Master came out with the cane,to get his pupils back. Lol.

A grand " bonjour et merci " to Jean Luc and the Corsican bush. :))

Captains Log: I've been in Abuja for three days now. I'm staying at the Sheraton !!! Well, actually, I am camping in my tent, at the rear of the Sheraton ! For Overlanders out there, there has been a change in pricing.

Previously it was 500 N a day and a three day minimum stay. That changed last week. It is now 5000 N a day and five days minimum stay. So not cheap. The staff here are 5 star. But the building is 2 star in places. Worn and run down. And along with all of Abuja, is only twenty years old. The camping is around the back. You can use the hot shower in the squash courts. The pool. And wifi, from the Business Center is 2000 N per 24 hrs. Security is tight,  as is all of Abuja. There must be twenty security guards around and in the building. Armed soldiers on the main entrance at the front and rear.

Abuja it's self is nice. There is definatley money here. Born of the oil industry. But that wealth is held by the very few.Enjoyed being here and getting some of lifes luxuries. A hot shower. Actually, a shower, not stood in a bucket, has been nice. Pizza, yes Pizza. Very expensive. Can't afford it, 2000 N for a small one. Fast Food chain Mr  Biggs, does chicken and rice for 1000N. And is what I've been living off since arriving in Abuha. Green taxi's are everywhere, as are private motorists. All tooting their horns. Negotiate your price, when white, they will over charge you. When they say 500 N, the real price will be 300 N. If he insists, walk away and just put your hand out again. Another car will stop in a few seconds. 

Here are some photos.

Splutter splutter...

So I found a Guesthouse in Llorin. A Guesthouse is not a victorian 3 storey building, run by Dot and her elderly husband Burt. It's two tennis courts in size. Has an eight foot surrounding wall. And a row of rooms,similar to a US motel. There is always a Guardian or Security.

This one had a bar and some food. Having had my ' shower '. ( me stood in a big bucket,throwing water over myself from a second bucket. ) I went to the ' restaurant '. Well....I mean I'm a fussy eater in England. I'm always getting moaned at over it. So eating in Africa is not easy for me. I asked for rice and chicken. ( its a safe bet.) ' No chicken '...just beef. Result.  I thought. Out comes my rice and ' beef '.....ahum. it was cow spine and chilli soup . " hhhhm...always fancied a bit of spine " !

In the guesthouse complex,I sat with twenty or so locals. Watching Nigeria v Morocco. 4-3 Nigeria. I was the centre of attention.  No annanimity here for a white man. You are constantly being watched . Akin to an alien has landed. We actually had some deep conversations. These Nigerians tend to big guys. I simply keep it simple. I'm respectful, I have my knife in my left boot. I do stand my ground. But without any attitude. It works.

I had a quick two hours out and about in Llorin. A guy from the Guesthouse glad to 'help' me. Which is code for,you pay me after. Almost, almost no 'help' in Africa is for friendship alone . Taxi moto, is a taxi motorbike. They are all Chinese, the bikes,not the riders. Cost 100N for a short journey. The taxi moto in the photo took me to the damn. Wasn't too exciting. Nice crash helmet though ...because that won't come off. ;)

Nigeria is apparently the 8 th richest country in the world. You'll need to check that. Well, the roads are terrible! ! The drivers insane. Don't be surprised to see cars and bikes driving on the wrong side of the road. And boy have I had some close shaves. Mental.

Yesterday, I'm riding centre of my side of the road. A truck heading towards me on the other side. A truck behind that one. It takes a look to over take. He can't bloody miss me. Head light on,im in the middle of the road. He over takes anyway. He's coming directly at me. No room left on the road for me. Just me being splattered on his bonnet. No joking.  He was say, 200 m away now. Head to head and only one winner. No road left.  I had to jump the bike off the road and onto the dust track,some two feet below the actual road. Nice moment. Liked that a lot. !!! Happened again today. Hey ho. Mad, mad and more madness.

My bike has been almost un rideable today. Spluttering, no power at all . Big problem for me. Middle of the Nigerian bush, with a broken bike. Just what you want. Some sort of fuel blockage. I cleaned the air filter and changed the plug. And still splutter,splutter, splutter. 5 mph.

I just managed to get into Jebba. Having spluttered my way through an illegal road block. ( That had the bottom twitching.  ) " work. ...go..work.." splutter ,splutter. Whistles blowing and shouting, as I ignored their road block.

My bike came to a halt outside a hut, with Chinese bikes being repaired . 20 minutes later my carb had been cleaned, my chain adjusted. And whilst far from running correctly, is now  workable. Of a fashion.

I'm now on my bed in a house. A Guesthouse. About 1 km outside Jebba. It's THE house with water. As it had a bore hole dug. Er...for water. So all the local houses come here to use the outside tape. They come with big trolleys, carrying 20 lt water containers. As a result, I've had a few conversations in English, with some of the locals. All good. One girl arrived for water. Her name ? Loveit! Had to smile inside. " reaaaally " .

My bike = ..." ...I've changed the head twice and the handle three times. .....but it's still the same broom..."

' ...onwards and upwards Rodney. ...onwards and upwards. ...'

Tomorrow Abuja. X

Will

What a day....

Up bright and breezy, with a view to an early start and definitely a day light finish.

Working on the principle that these illegal road blocks will go onto late into the night. The bad guys will be having a lay in. So I set off from Pobe,early doors. some 10 km from the Nigerian border.

Not 7 km later it was dark red dusty track, as a road. And slap my thigh with blissful glee,I had a puncture. A six inch nail, used on the illegal road blocks to stop the traffic. Was hanging out of my rear tyre. " Gosh..good ", I said.

Bike un rideable and now in the jungle, miles from anywhere. And I doubt if the AA would respond. Time to get my thinking cap on. My bike doesn't have a centre stand. Making taking the rear wheel off alone, somewhat of a challenge.

A long story short. A local tribesmen turned up. Followed by three more. Followed by half a school, all dressed in brown uniform. Between us we got the wheel off,changed the inner tube and got it blown up. An hour of sweating my bits off. Now with a crowd of about twenty around me and the bike. Strange. Not one word of English and not one word of French was said. They only spoke tribal.... photos below.

"...onwards and upwards Rodney..."

Through Benin Customs without any hassle. Now for Nigeria. With fingers crossed, that choosing a remote boarder crossing was the right thing to do.

Into Nigeria Immigration, a hut on the left side. Where I was grilled about my visit. Despite having a visa. Until the penny dropped. ( I now always explain I've ridden my bike from England. It throws them off any bribery game.) Passport all stamped up,they even asked to have photos next to me. Result. Then over to Health Desk,to show my Yellow Fever card. ( Another small hut.)Then I was called to the SS Office. To which I said " sounds about right ". Thankfully he had no idea. SS, means Secret Service. Had a quick chat and some more forms. Then over to Nigeria Customs.

It started all strict and official. Scrutinised everything. So glad I bought new bike insurance. All my baggage off the bike. Into the building, checked for drugs and weapons. 2 hrs worth. The head of Narcotics being also present. After I explained my story,it all changed again. Back to asking for photos. The head of Narcotics taking a wrist band off and giving it to me ! Which was a great gesture.They even forgot to charge me for my Lassier Passer. Which should be 5,000 N. Result !!!

And into Nigeria. ..remember I don't have the luxury of gps. Due to Suzuki GB. So just my home made map. As usual.

A typical scene: By the road side,you can clearly see large logs,lots of them. A hut,some string running over the road. Attached to a wooden board,with a hundred or so nails sticking out. 12 times I went through illegal road blocks. Each time I waited for a car to go ahead and as it slowed down, for the road block,id over take down the centre line. The car or truck obscuring the view of the ' Vigilante' gang. I'm sure at least four times I went through Official road blocks. They had uniforms and were shouting, but me "no comprendo".

"...onwards and upwards Rodney. ."

The road at times was terrible. It had been raining and I soon was filthy. Pretty sure i was running parallel to the road I actually wanted. Mine was red and muddy. It should have been tarmac. A number of times locals shouted at me. And it didn't seem to smell of roses and love. But I pushed on through the jungle until I hit a tarmac road. Then asked someone for Abeokuta. The bike and I now covered in red dirt. And I like that a lot !

I got to my first pit stop at about 4 pm and found a basic Guesthouse. 3,000N. Just north of Abeokuta. The family were Muslims and very helpful. The power is intermittent. Which means the water is. A problem across Africa. Photo of me in a bucket. Having a ' shower '.The room was good. Made acceptable, as the family owning it, were so nice. ( I was actually offered the daughter by the mother.Now that's service!!. ) I wanted to get food in me before nightfall. They escorted me to a locals restaurant. Knife now in left boot.The chicken and rice was fantastic. Best I've had in Africa. ( Usually chicken here is skin and bone. Hardly any meat.) Not here though, it was massive. Covered in a natural chilli sauce. It was on the money. O and it cost 600 N with a water. Then it was one bottle of beer at their cousins shop,next door to the Guest house. All tucked up in my room by nightfall. Watching black and white Nigeria soap. Hhhmmm

In the morning one of them gave me a wrist band,for good luck. Not to be outdone, the daughter, about 20 ish,came over. " I want to give you a gift "....and she put a watch around my left wrist. How nice.

I am starting look like a model in the Next Catalogue. African Edition. Kneck lace from a tribesmen in Burkina Faso. Knife from the Toureg in Mali. Two wristbands from Nigeria and now a watch. Never mind that lot....where's the oil .:)

I feel very privileged actually. They are all gifts for safe passage. X

Will

PS For security reasons. Very few photos will be taken in Nigeria. In public.I'm not giving anyone an extra opportunity. Hope you understand.

Benin

Yes, it's a country ! After the visa athon, I am pleased to be here. I left Guilliam in Lome at 12am.And my 'French connection' contacts. Ive really enjoyed meeting these French guys. And they helped me a lot with the language. Which I value. A great bunch of characters,  who I plan to meet again. Anyway, i finally found the guesthouse I was looking for at 6 pm. Here in Contonou.

Sat outside on the veranda, as I'm sort of room less at the moment. The route here was very plush, with lots of new things to look at. Tiny islands with houses on. Fishermen in the lagoon, walking in the water with their nets. And the usual multitude of pots, pans,mops, food and aircraft parts, being carried on the women's heads.

I've been doing my research today. With a view to getting my Angola Visa tomorrow. The criteria is lengthy and not easy to fulfil. A ' Letter of Invitation ' is required. From an Angolan, resident in the country. 3 months bank statements and $100. ( The Embassy should be impressed with income these past months......zero.! )

Ahead of me is 300 km of heading inland. And crossing into Nigeria via Nikki. It's lesa dangerous than Lagos. But between Nikki and Abuja, there are 100 Check Points. Half of which are Vigilante.

So when I see just £100 in the past three weeks donated. It deflates me. All this cost,planning and personal risk. It truly gets to me. I mean what do have to do to make this a success ??

Can you help?  Can you email the national papers and bike magazines. Numbers count. This challenge has hit Facebook saturation point. Donation wise.

I said I will only stop if I run out of money or worse. I'm at £1,100 and got fifty vigilante check points ahead in Nigeria .

Please help me to help wounded servicemen. Click the Help for Heroes logo. And email the papers.

Will

Togo

So gutted. I wrote this once already,  but due to technical difficulties,  lost all the data. It took me two hours. Ahhh..... Ce la ve :()

Burkina Faso Police and Customs were polite and didn't ask for a bribe. But two men outside the frontier post, indicated they were police. And took my passport and my bikes Lassier Passer. Upon asking inside the police station,  they turned out to be " working with us ". Not actual Police. Which is code for....' we can't be seen to take a bribe. They are so called fixers. '

Having got my police exit stamp,  I went outside and snatched back my Lassier Passer. ( bike import / export doc. ) Simply saying " non " ! ( These ' fixers ' would have demanded money for the ' help '. And given a kick back to the police. )

Over to the Togo side. For the Overlanders out there. A visa at the border is 10,000 cfa. For 7 Day Transit. Extendable in Lome Duan Office . No bribes asked for,  I always explain I've come from the UK,  ' avec le petite moto '. Which they all love. It breaks the ice and seems to smooth the process. The reply is almost always,  "can I have your bike "? In French of course.

I've no idea how to say in French,  ' you would have more chance of plating snot '. And that's probably a good thing.  :)

Over to Togo Duan.( Customs ). A Lassier Passer I knew to be 5,000 cfa. But was originally charged 6,000 cfa. Until an official asked where I was going and had come from. ( Yes, I did it in French. .....sort of.) The Customs Officer, completing my Lassier Passer, then lowered the price to the proper price of 5,000 cfa. He seemed to be impressed or surprised.

Liking that, I smiled and paid the 5,000 cfa. And gave him a 1,000 cfa ' tip'. No bribes paid, everybody happy. And through both sides in under an hour. Result. :)))

Into Togo......the home of voodoo. !! How exciting is that ??

First question that poped into my head ?? ' where do I get a life sized doll of the clown at Suzuki GB, who dropped my sponsorship ' ?  And ' do you do discount on bulk pin purchases ' ? :)))

Togo. After the desert and sub desert, of the Sahl Region. It's plush green, mountainous countryside, was a delight. Interesting and a first for me. Unsure if this is classed as sub tropical or tropical. But I can confirm it's a whole lot more interesting than endless miles of sand.!

The people of Togo seem friendly, intrigued in my visit. When I stop, I am quickly surrounded by interested passer bys. But as soon as there is more than three or four people, I say goodbyes, and get underway. Whilst friendly, I am alone. And security is my number 1 priority. (  I recently lost my knife, from under my tank bag. Which is a big concern for me.) And I promise you,  I don't like carrying a knife. But I am not living in lar lar, cum by yar ma lord land.

They love dancing and they love their music.  Its fast tempoed, really up beat. And boy, can they dance. We white people, should A) leave basketball alone.  And B) step away from the dance floor. :))

Some photos of the lovely and very different Togo countryside. Rivers with water.....been a while. Bush fires. Me finding a fruit drink. So i now know what Mango tastes like.( I've never eaten a fruit. ) Me squinting in the sun. ( not a great look. ) candle on the floor. As electricity is intermittent. These pointed Termite hills. Not a great explanation. And I could very easily be wrong. Someone e mail. And let me know what they are exactly. Im just An Idiot Who Got Bored. On the Slow Way Down.

I have noticed an Expedition website  has shared my page. " Thank you. Cheers. ". Good of you.:))

I'm in Lome tomorrow night. And would love to just listen to someone,  anyone, speak English.

Liking Togo. Nice, respectful people. Just don't set foot on the dance floor with one of them. They'll make you look stupid.

Will x