Nigerian Road Trips

I am currently in Abjua to renew my visa.  I came here on an entry visa, which expires after 3 months.  To get to Abuja we took a public 15-passenger van. You don’t book a place on the van before you arrive. On the day of the journey you just show up sometime early in the morning and buy a seat on a van going to your destination.  The van will not leave until all the seats are full. This can take 30 minutes or 3 hours. In my first journey from Abuja to Enugu, when I first arrived, it took almost 3 hours before the van left. For this journey we waited about an hour. The van was packed full. There was not an empty seat and all additional space was filled with people’s belongings.  There was of course no air conditioning, so I chose a window seat. I have always been able to ride all the spinning rides at the amusement park and never have a stomachache. Motion sickness was a foreign concept to me.  Well I now know how others feel when they talk about nausea after a bumpy car ride or the Scrambler at the local amusement park. Fortunately I never became sick, but I sure didn’t feel well.  I have people ask me what side of the road Nigerians drive on and the British sister in Nigeria told me she always responds to that question by saying  “the good side”.  There is no better answer to that question. Technically they drive on the same side of the road we do in the United States, but between the giant potholes, construction, stalled vehicles, and ponds that form during the rainy season people will leave one side of the road and start driving on the other. This of course causes major traffic jams. It is absolute chaos! On the way to Abuja we got stuck in one of these awful traffic jams. The worst part about these jams is that when the van is not moving it becomes extremely hot. Since I was sitting by the window not only was it hot, but I was also beginning to get sunburnt. I felt like I was actually baking in the sun. The cars drive within inches of each other, so as we were sitting in this traffic people in the car next to me were actually apologizing to me because I was clearly melting and they felt bad for me.  So next time you are sitting in your car stuck on some well-paved interstate with your air conditioning and cold soda think of me and maybe it won’t seem so bad. If that doesn’t help think of the Muslim women making their living by selling snacks to people in the vehicles from the side of the road with only their faces visible. I can only imagine how hot they must feel. 

The van finally arrived in Abuja, but our journey was not yet over. We now had to get in a car and get to the convent. We found a driver within minutes and for 200 Naira (less than 2 dollars) a person he would take us home. So Kaitlin and I climbed in the backseat thinking we would now be able to spread out a little after the crowded van ride. We couldn’t have been more wrong.  The sister climbed in the back with us and was followed by a man who would also be riding with us. In the front seat were two additional passengers. This was a small car only meant to hold five legally and four comfortably and we were a car full of seven. And of course when you put seven people in a car meant for five you don’t wear seatbelts.  Seatbelts are a rarity in this country. I struggle with this as I think most Americans would. As I was sitting in this over crowded vehicle, I couldn’t help but think how much easier and safer this journey would be if I just paid the extra dollar and a half to only put three people in the back seat. I know this is very American of me and something I can’t do here, but that doesn’t mean I can’t think about it.