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So my new hometown of Calabar, Nigeria is a ridiculously wussy section of a country “only for the most masochistic of travelers” (thanks for nothing Lonely Planet). Calabar is the calm capital city/town of Cross River state. Right next door to the Niger Delta oil wells, this relatively conflict-free state is governed by Donald Duke, an ambitious and universally adored governor who shines against the corruption-soaked backdrop of Nigerian politics.

But this relative serenity isn’t necessarily obvious at first glance. Bars and security gates stand before most windows and doors. Jagged glass and barbed wire sit atop many fences. The buildings themselves look as if they’d been built 30 years ago and the rainforest has been fighting to reclaim them ever since. Moss and vines stretch up the peeling concrete walls, reaching for rusted tin roofs. The roads are truly an active battlefield, where motorcycles and Mercedes alike maneuver their way though sidewalkless streets strewn with potholes and construction workers in roughly equal proportions.

When it comes to modern systems, Calabar has pretty much everything North America does- phone, electricity, water services - it’s all there, it just doesn't always work! (seldom, in some cases). The grid is only functional about 25-75% of the time, depending on the day. During the randomly interspersed periods it can go down for, the daily purr of generators rises up from the wealthier households. Inside, things can start to look a bit like an old electronics lab: boxy voltage regulators, uninterrupted power sources, and outlet adapters pepper rooms that contain electronics of any worth, protecting them from the unreliability of the grid.

Waterlines have just finished being installed throughout the city, but not everyone can afford the connection fee. So corner stands where people can fill jerry cans and buckets still dot the neighbourhoods. Those that do have running water have it stored high above their houses in brightly coloured 1,000 L plastic containers to ensure constant water when the grid is down.

The phone system is comprised of many cell phone networks with landlines making up a small proportion of the phone numbers. Cell phones work on a prepaid basis, with recharge card stands and propaganda of competing networks colouring every street. A Calabar phone booth is comprised of a person sitting under an umbrella ready to let you use their cell for a fee. However, none of these telecommunications options are guaranteed to work or work well.

It’s against this backdrop that decentralized renewable energy sources take on a whole new dimension. People’s interest in it here is so much more immediate. The concept of not sitting in the dark at night, having the power go out right in the middle of a soccer match or important e-mail, or not worrying about how to keep your electrical appliances safe from voltage fluxuation are aspects that inspire much excited conversation amongst most everybody here in Calabar. So much more than just an “environmentally friendly option” to them.

It’s a challenge not to build on their excitement until I can obtain a stronger grasp of what is most feasible and appropriate here. It’s too easy to preach the virtues of clean, stable inexhaustible energy sources without doing much about it. Instead, I’m focusing on learning from the people who are doing something about it here and trying to figure our how to best support them. Just yesterday, I got to check out the local university which not only powers their computer centre by solar panels, but is proposing to build a research institute for renewable energy to adapt all the technology for use in West Africa. I was pretty impressed and feel so lucky to have the opportunity to learn about and support these initiatives!!!

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