Blogs from Nigeria, Africa - page 9

Rain, thunder, and lightning showered our Thanksgiving feast, blessing the coming together of Nigerians and Americans. "God has accepted our meeting." Nicholas Ijabor explains the significance of the storm as evening showers poured onto an above tarp. Earlier in the day, rains persisted and brought native talk among the locals. They fidgeted in their plastic chairs. Together, we were at a town meeting exploring the methods to preserve the library, and this inviting phenomenon seemed to enliven our purpose. "We have been blessed many this day," Nicky said over the roar of water. As the library project nears the day of commissioning, where local chieftains and government officials will grant us with their presence, we called a meeting of villagers to discuss its future. Books organized and catalogued, grounds swept clean and landscape around the empty ... read more

Just as it was with countries like Cambodia, India, and Nepal, Nigeria was real, it was raw, and it was dirty. Asked why, a simplified answer spoke of how the people and their land were utterly besmeared by the hands of humanity. Rounded up as slaves by an advancing world, sold, exploited, freed and once again colonized into a vicious cycle, it was their livelihoods and their land that received the brunt of destruction. Today, the culprit is called oil: The Blood of the Earth. And a market of big leaguers stuffing their pockets with cash continues to fuel. For more please visit url=http://cameronkarsten.wordpress.com/2010/11/20/warri-town-in-the-dark-bus-location-warri-delta-state-nigeria/Cameron Karsten Travel Writing... read more

Africa began with no call, no sign, no indication. The gate for boarding at Heathrow International Airport opened and that was the start. All rows, all seats, all passengers crowded like a Haitian voting-poll, but eventually formed into two snaking lines as black as a cobra’s sheen. A few white spots speckled the arrangement, I among them. Suddenly, the minority I sought was found—and it was me. Albeit, twenty-four hours in London proved as a pleasant coat of primer. As I perused Piccadilly Circus around its surrounding Tube stations, words from worldly tongues quizzed my ears. People everywhere. Cultures and their dialect were a circus of conversation unbeknown to my conscience. French, Spanish, Hindi, Arabic—the usual—then the sharp speeches of far Eastern Europe and the twisted consonants of the northern Netherlands. And then Greek? Could that ... read more

This, along with all my other Africa blogs, were actually emails sent to friends and family. I didn't know much about blogs at the time, but now I do. OK, so I know that some of you are deleting these emails by now, but for those of you that are still interested I'll give you one more piece on what I'm doing here before I get home. Things are so different here in Nigeria that in east Africa. When I got off the plane things looked a lot like Kenya and Tanzania except for the very noticeable fact that I think I was one of two white people on the plane...the other person being a catholic nun. At least in east Africa they have tourists. Also, everyone here wears traditional dress. The men wear long ... read more

Diary 19720901 This afternoon I spent at the pool. Here in a Moslem country nothing official (like school and businesses) runs on Friday afternoon. Actually the sun was too hot for comfort most of the afternoon but the idea of being in and out of the pool and reading by the side of it was luxurious enough to make us happy. Towards the end of the afternoon David McLean brought us our mail and I got 2 letters, my early mail in Zaria. This evening a bunch of us went out celebrating the end of the course. While at the pub, I met two people from Yola, and a forester based there. 19720902 We had only half day of classes today and not even that. We were all suffering from the after effects of last night’s ... read more