Days 24-26: Last Days in Nigeria

Thursday should have been our last day in Ibadan but the faulty clutch on the car finally got the better of us. It was a wet day and we set off from Frank's home intending to visit the University of Ibadan on our way to Lagos. UI is the country's premier university and we had a drive around the campus and visited the Chapel of the Resurrection - a very pleasant building. We spent quite a lot of time in the bookshop which is the best I have seen anywhere - and sadly still very poor by UK high street standards - let alone university standards. Second hand books are displayed alongside news ones, and there was a large prominent section of seriously dodgy "Christian" books. I bought a couple of titles and we left. It was on the way from the university that we decided that we had to do something about the car so Tolu dropped me at a cyber cafe and went to find a garage. He came back for me via public transport two hours later and we returned to Frank's home via minibus and okada. I spent an interesting hour with Frank looking round his farm, feeding the fish, and generally finding out more about Nigeria. The three of us dined together again as we had done on the previous night and came to bed soon after 9.

Friday morning we were up by 7 and breakfasted soon after. Tolu went to collect the car: the new clutch had cost ten pounds and the labour four pounds! Hard to believe! We were on the road soon after 10 and the drive to Lagos was relatively straightforward. There were the usual regular roadblocks and we were waved through all except one: the police decided to single out our car for no particular reason. Tolu had all his documents in order but they then wanted to inspect his fire extinguisher which is apparently a legal requirement here. Tolu's had already been used and therefore they wanted to fine him 3000 naira (twelve pounds). He argued with them and got it down to 1000 naira. The whole thing seemed completely unnecessary. We carried on to Lagos and were on the outskirts by 12 noon. The legendary smog caused by pollution hit us straight away, though I am happy to say that the other infamous feature of Lagos - gridlock - eluded us. We headed towards the airport area and easily found an hotel in Ajao Estate near to Oshodi. We checked in and then arranged a car with the hotel to take us downtown.

Louis, our Ibo driver, negotiated the drivers and jams to get us across Lagos Island and on to Victoria Island. The traffic was very bad but it was moving most of the time. The city reminds me very much of Cairo - packed, dirty, chaotic - with huge flyovers linking the islands and the mainland. We headed to bar beach on VI where I was thrilled to see the Atlantic and beautiful white sand. It was a gloriously hot afternoon and having been surprised at how blue and clean the sea appeared to be I stripped off and went for a swim near to a crowd of Cherubim and Seraphim worshippers. Only one of them joined me - most Nigerians cannot swim - and the rest looked on and laughed - calling me WHITEY! It was wonderful to be in the sea. We were hassled by a number of people begging and claiming to be officials of various kinds - all of course wanting money - but it was not too bad. No doubt it would have been much worse if I had not been in the company of a Nigerian. We had a beer on the beach, bought some souvenirs from hawkers, and then headed back to the car. By that time it was about 4pm and it took us perhaps an hour to get back to the hotel - very good time by Lagos standards. We rested for a while and after showering headed off for a walk around the area and found a restaurant for a traditional meal. We wandered from there to a beer parlour where we sat for a while and then came back about 9.

Today - Saturday - is our last day and we intend to go downtown again and take a walking tour of Lagos Island. I do not fly until 1.30am tomorrow morning but we will probably aim to get to the airport about 7pm. An interesting development is that Saka, Tolu's neighbour in Akure, who has just got his visa to do a PhD in Glasgow, has booked himself on the same flight as me. As he has never flown and never left Nigeria before, he may need quite a bit of looking after!

Day 23: Ibadan

The rain had cleared the air and Wednesday morning was a beautiful one with brilliant sunshine and bright blue skies. After breakfast at Frank’s home we called at his office and then headed off to find a cyber café and an electrician to mend Tolu’s car door. Both were easily located thanks to Frank’s advice and I spent a useful two hours in the café. When I had finished the car was still being worked on so Tolu and I took an okada to the National Museum which had been recommended in the guide book. It is down an untarmacked road but is easily the best museum that we have seen: quite extensive and well worth visiting. It is especially good on Yoruba folk culture – plenty of costumes from the obas and the masquerades. We were of course the only visitors in the building which has serious structural problems and major roof leaks everywhere. We took okadas back to the garage to find the car finished: five hours work and a complex electrical problem solved – how much do you think it cost? The princely sum of 2,100 naira – just over £8 !!

Ibadan itself is a huge sprawl of a city, the former capital of the post-colonial Western Region of Nigeria and of present day Oyo State. Estimates as to its population range from 3.5 million (guidebook) to 5 million (Frank) - and it could easily be more. It is unremarkable and the guide book is blunt in its estimation of how little there is to see in this massive urban centre.

We came back to Frank’s house for lunch and then to rest for the remainder of the day. Frank’s home is really a small farm of 3 acres and although he has made his living as a valuer and surveyor, he is a keen amateur farmer and much of the food that we have consumed here has been grown on their own land. In the evening I went to look at the fishery which has some awesome looking catfish: I would not want to fall in there! The three of us had dinner together after which Frank talked and we listened about all kinds of subjects including his life and faith and various aspects of life in Nigeria. He is a very interesting man – another ex student of Victory College, Ikare, and Tolu’s mentor. Bed about 9pm.

Days 21 & 22: Finale in Akure

Me and the Bishop of Akure - The Rt. Revd. Michael Ipinmoye

Monday was my last full day in Akure and there were many errands to be done. After breakfast I went to the local cyber café for an hour where I managed to post my blog but had limited success with email and Facebook. Tolu picked me up from there and took me to his office where he left me for an hour to talk to his neighbour – the wonderfully named Godman – who is a photographer and computer technician. He is a Muslim convert and it was a very interesting conversation – especially as I got him to tell me about Juju (African voodoo) which it seems EVERYONE believes in even if they say they do not!

Tolu had been to change money and when he got back we went off to visit FUTA (Federal University of Technology Akure). We went to meet our neighbour Saka who teaches in the department of Environmental Technology and who has just been given a visa to come and take a PhD in Glasgow. It was a brief and odd visit – shortage of time meant that I was spared a guided tour of lecture halls and offices for which I was very grateful. I was asked to pray for a group of Saka’s students – again, something that would never happen at home with a group of people one had only just met!

We came back to town to visit the Oba’s palace. The Oba himself was away but we were given a tour by half a dozen or so retainers: it is an extensive compound with a number of formal courtyards in the style that we have seen elsewhere (notably on the top of the mountain in Idanre). There is quite a ramshackle feel to the whole place though it has been declared a national monument and is certainly a few hundred years old. We went from there to the National Museum next door where we were ushered in to meet the director. I was beginning to get slightly irritated by this point – yet another pointless meeting distracting us from the real business of the day – PLEASE CAN WE SEE THE GALLERIES! It turned out that there are no galleries and the main responsibility of the museum is to oversee the Oba’s palace which we had just visited. We left soon after and spent half an hour or so shopping for cloth and shirts. We then went to Tolu’s cousin’s beer parlour to say goodbye to him and enjoy a glass of guiness; and then finally to Bishopscourt to say goodbye to the Bishop and his wife and to collect an envelope that I am to deliver to their son in Sheffield.

We got home about 7 and had supper before a big photo session with all the family and the neighbours to mark my last night. It was great fun but I am going to miss everyone.

On Tuesday we were due to leave by 9 and finally left about 10. We went straight to the Bishop’s office for a second farewell: and after tea, a blessing and a photograph in front of the GAFCON statement we took our leave and then called at Tolu’s office. It was about 12 by the time we left town and we had to divert to Ile Oluji where we had spent the middle weekend. A large ceremonial gathering was underway at the Oba’s palace and Fagbamiye was anxious for us to see it. I am thrilled that he had insisted on this detour. It enabled us to see the traditional courtyard in use and at the end of the ceremony the Oba made me a chief! I had to go and get changed into something more traditional and kneel and swear an oath of allegiance. I then had to dance to the talking drum holding the horse’s tail emblem that is the traditional sign of all chiefs, whilst people came up and thrust lots of naira into my hand (all of small denominations). It is a great honour and it was great fun: hopefully I will have some good photos of the event. One of the high chiefs gave a very appreciative speech for me and I responded. What an experience! It was one of the highs of the whole visit and was to be followed by one of the lows – the journey to Ibadan.

As we left Ile-Oluji it started to rain - a really serious tropical storm for which Tolu's car is just not prepared – and it rained for the rest of the day. It really slowed us down getting to Ife which was the next stop on our programme - a rather damp affair in the weather. As we left there about 5 Tolu's door started to smoke - some electrical fault. That took another hour to sort out so that we were leaving town at 6pm - just half an hour of daylight left. I should have thought and should have said something but Tolu was determined to get to Ibadan where we were due to stay with his friend Frank who we had met on the first day.

I won't go into the details now but what followed was the worst three hours of the whole visit driving at night on terrible roads in pouring rain, from time to time being confronted by juggernauts careering down the wrong side of a dual carriageway -our side. It took us three hours to get to Ibadan - a total of 85 km - and when we got there everyone had gone to bed. We had not eaten since breakfast and we went to bed with only our bottles of water. Today – Wednesday – we are spending the day in Ibadan where I am trying to recover my equilibrium!

Days 19 & 20: St. Thomas Church, Akure

I had gone to sleep at 9pm on Friday evening because I had agreed to go to Morning Prayer with Bobo and Michael at 530. It is held at that time every day except Sunday, and there is always a congregation: on Saturday it numbered about 25. The service lasted about half an hour and was without a set liturgy: it was not a standard daily office that any Anglican would have recognised and at least half of it was a sermon. Afterwards Bobo explained to me that most of the congregation is illiterate. After prayers I had a quiet couple of hours to read and catch up on the diary before breakfasting and showering in preparation for the big event of the day – the Thanksgiving Service for the 80th birthday of the lady whose new car Matthew had dedicated the night before.

Chief (Mrs) Dorcas Ajoke Akingbade JP is the Iya Ijo or Mother of the Church at St. Thomas. I have in front of me the lavish programme that was produced to accompany this service, the like of which I have never seen, including 8 pages of photographs, 4 pages of biography and 3 pages of gushing tributes from children and grandchildren. There were seven bishops in attendance including the Archbishop of Ondo Province and of course the Diocesan Bishop Michael, as well as most of the local archdeacons and curates. The church was full if not packed but certainly a good 300 people were there including the usual smattering of chiefs, high chiefs and obas! The service lasted about 2 hours and was fairly straightforward: the Archbishop preached on how to lead a good and long life. It is hard if not impossible to imagine a comparable situation in England; indeed I cannot conceive of a situation where anybody’s 80th birthday (cleric or lay) would attract more than the Diocesan bishop.

After the service there were the usual photo opportunities before all left for a reception in another part of town. It would have been easy to get an invitation to the party but actually I was quite happy to have a free afternoon. The St. Thomas family were not going to the reception anyway as they had been given their own cow which had been dutifully slaughtered the day before and cooked in great cauldrons overnight so our lunch was ready and waiting! (Apparently 5 more beasts had been butchered for the main event.)

I spent a couple of hours at the cyber café and then went for a wander into the neighbouring streets with my camera. Almost immediately I was spotted by Lucy who was on her way home on the back of an okada. I took her photograph then continued my walk. I ended up outside the Oba’s palace where a masquerade was nearing the end of its journey. It is hard to explain what these events are except that they are a traditional part of the local culture. I managed to take a few photographs but not before paying some DASH of 1000 naira (they had tried to charge me 5000!). From there I wandered back to St. Thomas from where I took an okada to a bookshop on the main road. It was my first time on the back of one of these machines and the sight of an OYEEBO on an OKADO brought many comments, cries and laughter! I managed to purchase a couple of local novels and then came back on another okado.

Saturday evening was quiet and I had supper with Matthew and family after which I sang a couple of hymns at the request of the children! Bed by nine.

Sunday morning I was up by 530. It had rained heavily in the night and the air was distinctly fresher. I spent over an hour preparing the sermon I was to preach at the 730 service of Matins. Although I had no robes (almost an ex-communicable offence in the C of N) I was allowed to process: the congregation numbered no more than 25 at 730 though before the service ended two hours later it had grown to more than 200. This was the English language service and the hymns were all old standards. Like Saturday morning there was no prayer book liturgy though this was more recognisable as Matins. I preached on the Psalm for the day 24.1: The earth is the Lord’s and the fullness thereof. I was quite pleased with the result though what the congregation thought is impossible to gauge. I basically gave them a theology of creation and stewardship and one gets the impression that they are so unused to hearing a non-evangelistic sermon it probably left them cold. Whatever, I was not lynched and after the service there were more photographs. Tolu had attended which was nice and he joined Matthew and me for a breakfast of yam and eggs for which I was more than ready.

Matthew and I returned to church soon after 10 to join the Yoruba language morning prayer service which was already under way. This time over 400 people (and may be many more: there had been 600 the previous week) were present. I brought a greeting from Manchester and then Matthew took me to the church hall to meet a small minority language congregation who were worshipping in their mother tongue, and to meet two departments of the Sunday School. We came back into the main service about 1130 having missed the sermon to find that the thanksgivings were just about to begin. Basically these are prolonged offerings made to give thanks for specific events, anniversaries, or simply for one’s family. (A big thing was made in both services that this was the last Sunday of the month and therefore how important it was to thank God for sparing you and your family for another month.) In today’s service there were four main offerings AFTER the main Sunday offering, but the second of these (for the local church primary school) had many subsequent offerings within the main one and alone took over half an hour. The whole thanksgiving offering thing took well over an hour: each one is introduced then accompanied by the choir as the whole congregation shimmy up the aisles and drop their 20 or 50 naira note into the offering bowl. That may be only 10p or 20p respectively, but remember you are going to have to do this about ten times this morning! We finally got out of church at 1pm exactly: the service had lasted three hours.

There was not much else to do except lunch and pack: Tolu came for me about 3pm and I made my goodbyes and thanks to Matthew and family. They had been wonderful hosts and made me extremely welcome these last four days.

Tolu and I had a little tour of the town to visit the Christ Apostolic Church where he is a member, another CAC church and the Roman Catholic Cathedral. We then went to visit a friend of his who is a Canon in the Anglican Diocese but who has fallen out with Bishop Michael. I did not get his name and we did not stay long.

We came back home and it was good to see Lucy, Jumoke and Titi again and to be back in my own bedroom. Tomorrow is my last full day in Akure and I realise that I am going to miss them all. We had supper and then I showed them all some of the photos of the last week on Tolu’s laptop. Mr Joseph from next door joined us and there was much laughter. It was a very happy evening. Came to bed just after 9 and read till 10.

Days 17 & 18: The Diocese of Akure

On Thursday morning we had a relatively easy and quiet few hours before heading off for the Diocesan office about 11am. Although the Bishop was away for the day they were expecting me, and his admin assistant Revd Bobo came with Tolu and I to settle me in to St. Thomas’s Church and compound where I am being looked after by the Archdeacon Revd. Matthew. Tolu left us and I had a quiet afternoon resting, reading and writing. In the early evening we had a guided tour of the church and buildings here in the compound and then went for a drive to visit the buildings and clergy in the neighbouring parishes of Holy Trinity and Bishop Emmanuel Gbonigi (named after the first bishop of Akure). It was an interesting couple of hours, mostly because Matthew allowed me to question him about anything and everything, which this evening was mostly about clergy terms and conditions, stipends and ecumenical relations. Incidentally, archdeacons here are more like area deans at home: there are 12 in the Diocese of Akure which has 100 priests. Matthew is very welcoming and we get along fine. I will be here until Sunday afternoon.

We were back about 715 for a supper of rice and fish stew and by 8pm I was locked in my dark room, once again a prisoner of the power cuts.

No early morning preachers here – just a cockerel doing his job at 5am. Thank you Lord! I had breakfast with Matthew about 8 and soon after Michael and Anu –two other priests from the Archdeaconry - arrived to take me on a tour of churches. We visited St. Luke’s Church and met the curate; St. Stephen’s where there was no vicar around but the church was open so we had a look in; and then on to St. Matthias Secondary School which is run by the Diocese. We met the Principal Gladys who showed us around and it was an interesting tour. The conditions were much like St. Thomas School behind Tolu’s house – and better than Victory College, Ikare. From there we proceeded to FUTA – the Federal University of Technology, Akure – for a drive through the compound.

We were back by 11am for a cup of tea and then Matthew and I went to the Annual Conference of the Diocesan Women’s Guild which was meeting for a four day conference at St. David’s Cathedral in Akure under the Presidency of the Bishop’s wife – Mrs. Julie Ipinmoye. Now the Women’s Guild is not to be confused with the Mothers’ Union: the latter is only for monogamously married women; the former is for everyone else. In other words, this conference was for the polygamists. The Bishop’s wife was about to give her presidential address and it was a three line whip for all Archdeacons to be in attendance. The Bishop was also there as was the wife of the Governor of Ondo State together with perhaps 300 women most of whom were dressed in the Women’s Guild uniform of white clothes with green accessories and always a green hat. After the address – which, like the whole conference was delivered in Yoruba, and lasted about an hour – the Governor’s wife responded. Then the Bishop spoke, at the end of which he introduced me – though not before he had a little tirade about homosexuality in the Church of England. Once again I was struck by (1) the obsession with what is frankly a minor issue for the churches in the west; and (2) by the sheer hypocrisy of making such a big issue of “Christian marriage” in a church that openly tolerates polygamy. The new edition of the Nigerian Book of Common Prayer which I bought in Warri includes the 2008 GAFCON statement at the back of the book which states very clearly in point 8:

We acknowledge God’s creation of humankind as male and female and the unchangeable standard of Christian Marriage between one man and one woman as the proper place for sexual intimacy and the basis of the family. We repent of our failures to maintain this standard and call for a renewed commitment to lifelong fidelity in marriage and abstinence for those who are not married.

The Church of England has acknowledged monogamous gay relationships since the publication of ISSUES IN HUMAN SEXUALITY in 1992; the Church of Nigeria openly accepts polygamy. Why is anyone getting on their moral high horse? Once again, I am baffled!

The Bishop was not apparently going to invite me to say anything but I asked if I might bring a greeting and so I was allowed to do just that and of course I pointed out that my curate in Manchester is the Bishop’s wife. That brought a round of applause as it usually does with a crowd of women! Incidentally, I like the Bishop very much which makes his stance on the sexuality issue all the more frustrating. If I did not like him I could dismiss him as a crank!

We left the conference soon after and came back to St. Thomas’s compound for a spot of lunch and a visit to the cyber café. Later in the afternoon Matthew took me to visit Archbishop Vining Theological College (named after a 1950s prelate) which is one of three major training colleges in the C of N: so it is a feather in the cap of Akure that it should be here. There are 130 male students in residence at the moment, all training for ordination. We met the Dean and visited the chapel then continued on our journey. We called round at the home of the “Mother of the Church” – the lady whose 80th birthday is being celebrated with a service on Saturday morning. This is evidently an extremely wealthy family: the clans were beginning to gather and her children had just presented her with a new car – a large Nissan of some kind. This was a pretty expensive motor. Matthew was asked to bless it (I noted that I have never been asked to bless a car) and the said vehicle was soon edged out of the garage and the bonnet and boot opened so that they could receive the full benefits of the impending blessing. Matthew soon got into his stride and yes – you’ve guessed it – he was soon praying that every part of that car would be covered in the blood of Jesus. It would seem that Pastor Blood in the minibus to Abuja was not out of step. I am the one who is out of step in Nigeria! Even in England I never feel very happy when the church is called on to bless the lifestyles of the rich and I felt equally unhappy with this display. It will however be very interesting to take part in the thanksgiving service on Saturday.

We came back to the compound and over supper I questioned Matthew about the church and especially about weddings and funerals. It would appear that the C of N operates entirely as a “gathered church” and has no obligations to non church members. You are either in or you are out!

Another quiet evening, though easier because the generator was working so we had light.

Day 16: Back in Akure

Collecting water from the garden well - every drop comes up this way!

Saka, our neighbour in Akure, brushing his teeth the tradional way

Three Hausa gentlemen in traditional dress

This poster caught my eye - though no one has yet offered me a gin and tonic!


The ever busy streets of Akure

Wednesday afternoon (October 21) passed quickly with a visit to the cyber café and in the evening Tolu and I went for dinner at some friends of his - Dr and Mrs Alaba Omotola. He is a retired surgeon who is spending most of his retirement working on his land like a traditional African farmer (rather like Awe in Ikare); she is a Principal of a secondary school. They live in very comfortable circumstances in the GRA – government regulated area of Akure. It was an interesting evening as I was able to question the doctor about the health of Nigerians. The two biggest killers are road traffic deaths and malaria. Cancer and heart disease have not been big killers traditionally but he joked that they are importing those diseases now as their lifestyle becomes more westernised. He was particularly critical of the passion for bread which is very prevalent here and is always western style bread. I was surprised to discover that there was no traditional form of bread (in the way that the Arabs for example have flat bread); Nigerians had yams and they were enough. He said that bread makes you constipated and that was the beginning of the end as far as he was concerned!

We came home about 9 and I slept well until the latest prayer vigil got underway about 3am and we were visited by my preacher friend about 5am. I resisted applying the bucket of cold water treatment. “This is not my problem; I do not live here”.

Some photos from Abuja

The National Ecumenical Church in downtown Abuja

The National Mosque in downtown Abuja

The amazing Gurara Waterfalls, 50 km north of Abuja in Niger State.

The no less amazing Zuma Rock - one of the icons of Abuja.

Greg/Tolu, me and Samuel - our guide for the day - at Gurara

Days 14 & 15: Abuja

I was awake by 3am on Monday morning but that was fine – I had slept well for nearly 8 hours. I read for a while and then started to pack for our three day trip to the nation’s capital Abuja. Everyone else was up by 5 and after a breakfast of scrambled eggs and chillies, we set out to the minibuses in the centre of town where Tolu and I were to find our transport to Abuja. We managed to get the front seats of a 14 seater and by 655 we were on the road. I had read in the guide book about the spontaneous prayers of minibus passengers but had assumed that could not be standard practice: I was wrong. No sooner were we on the main street of Akure than a young male passenger beseeched the captive audience that someone should commend the journey into the hands of Almighty God. I was just wondering whether I should fulfil my clerical duty when another young man began in earnest praising the Almighty for his many mercies before getting down to the real subject matter: the blood of Jesus. He prayed fervently that the bus and all its passengers and especially the driver would be covered in the blood of Jesus. Having seen an alarming number of wrecks on the side of the main roads the very last thing that I was praying for was that anyone would be covered in any kind of blood! He then went on to mention various parts of the engine including the carburettor, the cam belt, the spark plugs, and so on – in each case praying that they would be covered in the blood of Jesus. After every invocation of our Lord’s name there was a unanimous AMEN from the other passengers. I was not sure whether this fervent prayer was meant to demonstrate his depth of faith or his depth of knowledge about the internal combustion engine. The X43 to Burnley will seem quite dull after this.

Whatever, we were soon on the road, and prayers or no prayers, it was apparent that we had a very good driver who knew just about every pot hole on the road between Akure and Abuja. He was not slow at overtaking, but neither did he ever endanger his collection of holy pilgrims. We were stopped at about five army checkpoints early in the journey where our driver paid the standard 20 naira DASH. I nearly got myself and possibly the bus into trouble when we were pulling out of the second of these checkpoints. There was a large “Mammy wagon” parked at the side of the road with a very striking picture of Jesus painted on the rear. My camera was on my lap and I quickly snapped a shot before I realised that I had inadvertently photographed a soldier receiving DASH from the driver of the said wagon. He charged over to our vehicle shouting and screaming and only when I showed him the photo did he calm down. I apologised to the rest of the passengers when we got away, but Pastor Blood assured me that I had done nothing wrong and that the soldier’s conscience had been pricked and that was the reason for his behaviour.

The journey to Abuja took six hours. We had one stop – at Lokoja – near to the confluence of the Niger and Benue rivers. Sadly we did not see the confluence, but slightly north of there we crossed over the Niger, giving us good views of West Africa’s greatest river.
The last part of the journey was the slowest and we eventually left the bus at about 1pm. We took a taxi to Kubwa, the suburb where we were staying, and we were just enjoying a meat pie and salad at fast food outlet Mr Biggs when Tolu’s friend Pastor Aina arrived to look after us. Kubwa is about 20 km outside the city centre and is one of the many satellite communities where the cost of living is much lower than in the city centre. Because of this, there is a serious traffic congestion problem on the highways before 10 am and after 4pm. Aina suggested that we head straight to the city centre for a whirlwind tour before 4pm and that is exactly what we did. The broad dual carriageways, open spaces, and impressive public buildings are unlike anything else that I have seen so far in Nigeria. The main buildings are all the more striking because of the space that surrounds them. It feels and looks like a capital city and is as far removed from some of the chaotic communities that I have encountered in the south west as it is possible to be. We drove past the National Mosque which is a very impressive gold domed building with four stunning minarets and visited the National Ecumenical Church which is slightly less impressive but nonetheless striking both in its architecture and its intention. It was originally conceived in 1991 but various changes of government and anti-Christian bias meant that it was only completed in 2006. It is a building of Cathedral proportions which is used for national events and for major celebrations by any Christian denomination. It is not the home of any congregation, but can be hired by anyone. It is evidently an important symbol of Christian presence at the heart of the capital and I cannot think of another capital city that has such a building as part of deliberate planning policy. We drove around the city centre with Aina pointing out buildings of note. He then drove us to our hotel which was back in the suburb of Kubwa and having settled into our room I headed out to the nearest cyber café to catch up on the blog.

We went to Aina’s for dinner in the early evening and then back to hotel for a quiet and relatively early night but not before I had been entertained in the garden bar by PRINCE - a solo Ghanaian guitarist who played Elton John’s DANIEL among a number of traditional Ghanaian numbers. I think they call it serendipity!

We were up soon after seven on Tuesday (October 20) and after a breakfast of omelette, bread and tea, I headed off to the cyber café for a further hour. I was back by ten to meet Aina and his friend Samuel who was to be our guide for the day. He took us first to photograph Zuma Rock – the Ayers Rock of Nigeria. I have only seen Ayers from a plane, but it can scarcely be more impressive than Zuma which stands proud of the landscape unlike any other hill I have ever seen. Ancient tribes must certainly have endowed it with magical powers, and still today it is an important symbol of Abuja. It goes without saying that because this is Nigeria, there is no visitors centre and no postcards!

We carried on to Suleja, a large mainly Muslim town 20km to the north of Abuja and drove on a further 30km into Niger State to visit Gurara Waterfalls, described in the guidebook as Nigeria’s number one tourist attraction. They are certainly impressive and Tolu who was there for the first time was as appreciative as I. We took lots of photos and headed back into the city centre in search of the Anglican Cathedral. Samuel took us to All Saints Church where we learned that it had moved to a quarter outside the city centre called Life Camp. While we were at All Saints we took the opportunity to check out the Church House – a hostel run by the Diocese of Abuja that had been recommended to us. It is very grotty and I was glad that we were staying out at Kubwa. We found the Cathedral of the Advent in Life Camp after something of a wild goose chase: it is a modern and unprepossessing building – nothing like as impressive as the National Ecumenical Centre. From there we went in search of another site recommended by the guide book – the Nike Art Village (nothing to do with the sports label). Run by a Yoruba woman Nike Okundaye it is one of a number of centres across Nigeria dedicated to marketing traditional arts and crafts. It was well worth the detour though the prices were definitely aimed at the international market and we did not buy anything. www.nikeart.com

By now it was 4pm and traffic was already beginning to build up so Samuel ran us back to our hotel in Kubwa where we rested for an hour before Aina collected us to take us for a hurried meal at his home before going on to the bible study at which I was to speak.
(Incidentally, dinner was exactly the same as it had been the previous night: rice, fish stew, spinach with beef skin(!) and fried plantain. There is little variety in the food once you have sampled the half dozen or so Nigerian staples and I am beginning to think that the attitude to food here is very different to that at home. I need to ask Tolu about this.)

When we got to the “Maranatha Gospel Ministry a.k.a. Mercy Chapel”, the independent Pentecostal congregation founded and led by Tolu’s friend Pastor Aina, the service was well underway. Two young men with mikes were leading the congregation in loud and lively singing with some dancing as well: the atmosphere reminded me of a jazz club. Aina took the mike and led a time of prayer in a very directive way. He tells the congregation what to pray about, when to start, and when to stop. As they all pray simultaneously out loud it is quite noisy. There are numerous PRAISE THE LORDs which elicits the response HALLELUJAH and as the first one is usually considered too quiet, it is repeated two or three times. I led the Bible Study on Isaiah 42.1-4 getting quite a bit of response from the congregation of about 50. I enjoyed it enormously and I seemed to be appreciated. The whole thing was fascinating – different again from the Anglican churches that I have experienced so far over here – and is another piece of the kaleidoscope of Nigerian Christianity which is certainly a multi-coloured and multi-faceted picture.

Aina ran us back to the hotel by 9 and we had a drink in the bar before bed.
We were up at 6 on Wednesday (October 21) and after an early breakfast Aina took us to find a taxi in Kubwa which ran us to the motor park in Zuba. We came back to Akure via shared taxi rather than the minibus which we had used on the way north. It was 2200 naira – about £9 – for a six hour journey. The driver was good – not too suicidal at all thank God! – and we arrived back in Akure by 130 and got a taxi home. Nothing worthy of note on the return journey apart from some tasty looking meat for sale at a stall where we stopped for a break. I assumed it was chicken but Tolu checked and discovered that it was Grass Cutter – a large rat found in the countryside and often eaten as “bush meat”. Not today thank you!

Days 12 & 13: The Kingdom of Ile-Oluji (with PHOTOS)

L to R: A High Chief; the Lisa (or Prime Minister) and my host; the Oba or King; me

L to R: The Lisa, The Bishop of Ile-Oluji, me

On Saturday we travelled to the town of Ile Oluji, about one hour from Akure in the direction of Ondo. We are still in Ondo state and this town of about 150,000 residents is noticeably quieter than Akure and with fresher air – due to the surrounding hills and woodland. We are the guests of High Chief J A A Fagbamiye and his wives and family. Like Greg/Tolu is he a surveyor in Akure, but unlike my host he is extremely wealthy and his status as High Chief means that he is second only to the Oba in terms of importance. He is also a prominent Anglican layman and he spent the first hour of my visit telling me how he and his colleagues got rid of the Bishop elect of their new “Missionary Diocese”. The Missionary Diocese of Ile Oluji, carved out of the Diocese of Ondo, was only created this summer and has only 30 churches and about 15 priests. Goodness knows why one would one want to create such a small diocese but it is no doubt much more to do with local politics than with the Holy Spirit. What is clear from spending an afternoon here is that it is a little place with a big sense of its own importance. It is virtually a tribal kingdom run by an Oba and six high chiefs and I can imagine that they did not like being subject to a Bishop in Ondo. Having got their way with the creation of a diocese and its attendant Cathedral, they were not going to have anyone except their own candidate as Bishop. They mounted a fearsome campaign against the outside candidate – and in the end got their own way and guess what – the new man is related to my host!

I am being very ungracious here when my host is being the very model of hospitality. But I was slightly caught off guard yesterday when – having been introduced to two of his wives (a third one already having passed away) - he handed me a leaflet about CANA (The Convocation of Anglicans in North America) – which is being run by his brother Bishop Amos Fagbamiye from his home in Indianapolis. Shall I spell this out? CANA is a schismatic group, injected into North America without the support of ECUSA, by the Church of Nigeria which openly tolerates polygamy - and why? Because (according to the C of N) ECUSA is undermining Christian marriage by its stance on gays. I am not criticising polygamy: the Church of Nigeria has the autonomy under the guidance of the Holy Spirit to deal with local issues as it sees appropriate. (Though wearing an equal opportunities hat I would have to point out that I have yet to meet a female High Chief with two or more husbands.) So why is this freedom and grace not extended to other provinces to deal with local issues as they see fit? Once again I am baffled not only by the stance of the C of N, but even more by the stance of the Primates of the Anglican Communion who have allowed themselves to be bullied into battle that nobody wants by a couple of provinces who have an irrational obsession with the gay issue.

Enough! Ile Oluji is a friendly place and we were driven around by the High Chief in his big Mercedes to meet a retired Archdeacon, the new Bishop, and the Oba. The Oba – who is an engineer by profession and spends every September in London – is also a prominent Anglican layman, also has a number of wives and like my host is extremely humble and completely unassuming. They may rule this little kingdom with almost unchallenged authority but it has not gone to their heads! This may seem like a bizarre comparison but Ile-Oluji actually reminded me of Mountain Ash where I lived from 1994-1997: an isolated and insular community with a large dose of civic pride completely confident in its assertion that this is without question the best place to live on earth!

We came back to Fagbamiye’s substantial house where we dined on catfish (I refused the head) and after drinking a cold beer, we went to bed.

On Sunday morning I was up about 7 to work on my sermon. We had a good breakfast of yam and eggs (that’s YAM not HAM) and headed off to church about 930 to attend the 10am service of Matins at St. Peters Cathedral in Ile-Oluji. The large barn like building holds about 2000; there may have been as many as 500 people there, I am not sure, but there were plenty of empty seats. I could not have been made more welcome. The Bishop made a big fuss of me both before and after the sermon; I kept being hauled out of my pew to bless this offering and that tithe. I had realised yesterday on my first meeting with the Bishop that the excitement about having an OYEEBO in the pulpit far outweighed any risk that I might preach heresy! Really, I was made extremely welcome. I preached on grace (The Grace actually 2 Cor. 13.14) with a translator into Yoruba – and it was well received. The service lasted about two hours and afterwards there were numerous photo opportunities to be had including an interview with the man who had videoed the entire service. (Yes – that’s right folks – the whole service will be on a DVD – I bet you cannot wait.) (Remind me to write on another occasion about Nigerian hierarchies both inside and outside the Church.)

On the way back to Fagbamiye’s house we called at the home of another retired Archdeacon before going back to the High Chief’s house to change and lunch. In the afternoon we went to a meeting of the High Chiefs: five out of six were present including my host who is second in precedence to the Oba (who was not present). This was a largely ceremonial occasion: a goat had just been slaughtered and the best cuts were on their way to the barbeque. When they came back ten minutes later, blacker than the best burnt British barbequed bangers, they were carved up on the same bloodied board and with the same rusted machete that had despatched the poor creature only ten minutes earlier. I prayed that we would get out before it was handed round but Fagbamiye is a High Chief and was not to be deterred. I managed a couple of pieces of the liver; there was no chianti but thank heavens it was washed down with (warm) beer. There was some interesting conversation about the new fundamentalism that has come into the mainstream Nigerian churches through the newer evangelical denominations. I guess that this is also part of the equation of the current Anglican tensions.

We headed back to Fagbamiye’s to collect our car and make our farewells. It had been a memorable 24 hours in so many ways and the hospitality of the High Chief will be remembered by me for a long long time.

The hour’s drive back to Akure was uneventful. Before returning home, however, we made a detour to visit the site of Gregory’s new home which he is building himself as and when funds are available. I was thrilled to find that it is substantially complete on a very spacious plot and will one day provide a very comfortable home for Tolu and his family.

When we got back home – about 7 – I was beginning to feel quite unwell (I blamed the liver) and so I went straight to bed in preparation for our trip to Abuja on the Monday.

Days 10 & 11: Akure and environs

(The first part of the diary of this day - Thursday October 15th - is found at the end of the previous post - sorry!)

Based on a text from Genesis 21 about the divine timing of the birth of Isaac, we were supposed to draw direct lessons about the punctuality of “youths” in church. This was more eisegesis than exegesis: I approached the subject with great scepticism but in fact we had a good discussion and I enjoyed myself much more than I expected to. I left just after six and came back home for a tea of rice, stew & spinach followed by fresh pineapple. Tolu then proposed a little expedition which is unusual as we don’t often go out after dark. (Nigerian friends in Manchester had made be promise that I would not go out after 6pm. I have broken that promise on a number of occasions – but I suspect they were thinking about Lagos. Akure is very different. I have yet to feel unsafe.) We went to a “beer parlour” run by a cousin of Tolu’s where we had a very welcome cold STAR beer. Most of Akure feels and looks rather like a shanty town; there is no power apart from in those establishments wealthy enough to own their own generator; driving at night is treacherous on these roads – so all in all it was quite an adventure. But we got there and back safely and had an interesting conversation about the history of the African church in between. Bed about ten. Again I was woken on and off by some prayer vigil taking place somewhere – though without the loud speakers thank God! But I have given up hoping to have a good night’s sleep.

I don’t think that I have mentioned the heat? I don’t really know how hot it is. It is very humid – and the sun is fierce when it appears – but there has been plenty of cloud and of course lots of rain when we were in Warri. What I do know is that it is never cold – I have needed nothing more than a cotton shirt – and at night only a sheet. The best you can hope for is that there will be a breeze in the evening.

This morning (Friday October 16) Tolu and I did a number of errands around town before heading about an hour outside Akure to some famous hot springs. Like so much else here, the resort is terribly neglected and in desperate need of TLC, a coat of paint, and some serious investment. The stream from the spring bubbles down the hillside and it really is remarkably warm. It was directed into a decrepit swimming pool which had about 6 inches of pure clean water. There were two local boys swimming there and I joined them for a welcome splash around. So much of the infrastructure of this country is in a terrible condition: nobody seems to realise that tourists would bring money. Apart from three locals there was nobody else at the resort and the surrounding chalets which had once been available for hire had all been abandoned. As we were leaving another car arrived and I saw only the second and third white people I have seen since arriving.

We came back to Akure and have spent the afternoon catching up on this blog and trying not to get too frustrated that the internet line just cannot cope with uploading photographs.

Day 9: Idarne & Akure

Yesterday morning we were all somewhat drowsy after our broken nights sleep. (See previous post). We had breakfast and headed off to Idarne so that I could lead assembly at the primary school where Lucy (Tolu's wife) is Principal. It is about half an hour from Akure and considered more of a village area. Consequently the children are very unused to seeing an Oyeebo (white man) and they were almost at fever pitch by the time that we arrived. I led the assembly on the story of Zaccheus and afterwards we had photos with the staff.

From there we went to the other end of Idarne where we were to climb one of the many hills that surround the town. This part of the highlands in South Western Nigeria is most unusual with rounded mountains of solid rock forming a quasi lunar landscape. I need a geologist to interpret for me - but it must be the result of volcanic activity. We climbed the 660 steps to the first plateau and wandered into a deserted village where the community that became Idarne had lived until the 1920s. It was fascinating and in most countries would be a major theme park or museum - here it is virtually unknown and all the more interesting for that. There is no tourism industry to speak of and Idarne is another place ignored by my otherwise excellent guide book.

We descended the mountain in increasingly heavy rain and returned via Lucy's school where we had a detour to meet the local Oba or King (more like the Chief of the Chiefs from what I can work out). It was a brief and friendly visit.

Back to Akure to change into dry clothes and then to the Cyber Cafe where I passed three hours of desperate frustration and increasingly losing the will to live where once again I failed to upload any photos. (This post and the previous one are being composed on the morning of October 15th in a different cafe in the centre of town. Fingers crossed it seems a bit better.)

In the evening we went to meet the Bishop of Akure and his wife Julie. Bishopscourt is in the government part of town and they received us in a relaxed and pleasant manner: we drank tea with milk (!) sitting outside. I presented Bishop Michael with a book and a letter from the Bishop of Manchester. Akure is linked with Liverpool Diocese and + Michael knows both Manchester and Liverpool well. He is going to arrange for me to stay with one of his clergy for a few days next week which I am greatly looking forward to. We had a pleasant hour there and almost avoided the dreaded subject which so exercises the Church of Nigeria at this time. I did not take the bait although I would like to have a “full and frank” discussion with him at a later meeting. This was a very positive introduction and I did not wish to mar it in any way. We took our leave and although it was past 7pm and pitch dark, we called at a friend of Tolu’s where we collected eggs and plantain from their farm before we finally arrived home. Supper was egg and chips – perfectly delicious though I think that it was a concession to the Oyeebo. Incidentally, everybody calls potatoes IRISH POTATOES. Bed about 1030.

Day 10: Thursday Oct 15 - Akure

I have ranted on elsewhere about our 5am visitor so I will jump straight to breakfast after which we headed into town for Tolu to go to his office and for me – accompanied by Titi - to try a new cyber café. It is better than the local one though still not without difficulties - not least the problem of trying to upload photos. Spent a couple of hours there then came home for a quiet afternoon and a snooze. I spent half an hour collecting water from the well in our garden. Every drop that we pour down the loo or use in washing and cooking has to be drawn by hand from the well in a small bucket, poured into larger buckets, and then carried to our first floor apartment - usually on the head and usually by the girls in the family. You will not be surprised to discover that women work far harder than men in this culture. One would soon get fed up of this pre-industrial lifestyle: not only do the majority of people not have running water but neither to they have reliable electricity. We have not had power for 24 hours now: fridges are defrosting, laptops and mobiles are running out of juice. Greg/Tolu did my washing for me the other day - sitting outside with three large bowls and doing the whole thing by hand. It could have been 1909, 1809, 1709 - what would be different?
At 5pm yesterday I went with one of our neighbours to the nearby All Souls church to lead their youth bible study. It is a relati

vely new parish in a very basic church building. There were about 10 young people there - perhaps 20 by the time we finished - which was ironic as the given subject was punctuality..............(continued in next post)
(I have tried and failed three times to upload one small picture into this post - I am giving up!)

Days 7 & 8: Warri - Ikare

L to R: Me, Manasseh Olupete (Greg's father), his wife, Greg/Tolu

Greg/Tolu's family home in the village of Epinmi.

We were up on Monday morning by about 7am and Jonathan joined us for breakfast at the hotel before leading us to the edge of Warri town. It was pouring with rain when we left as it had been when we arrived and indeed it had been wet most of the weekend. These downpours can apparently last for days without ceasing but being tropical rain it is never cold. We stopped to say goodbye to J: it had been very good to see him and his family. He was the only reason that we had ventured as far east as Warri and it had been well worth it. We were soon on the very good road to Benin City where Femi met us to guide us through the town.

(I find it fascinating that nobody but nobody has a map. I have tried in vain to buy a road map of Nigeria in numerous bookshops: no way. You simply head for a town in your general direction and when you get there you ask directions to the next town.)

We were heading in the direction of Auchi and from there in the direction of Ikare – both somewhere in the highlands of South West Nigeria (neither of them mentioned in my excellent Bradt guidebook). It was a long way round but we were determined to avoid the catastrophic hold ups on the main road from Benin that we had encountered last Friday. We were most of the day on the road and about 4 arrived at Epinmi which is Tolu’s family home, a village on the main road. His father Manasseh, aged 89, still lives in the family home which I would have guessed was built around 1850. In fact it was built around 1950 – hard to believe indeed and I can only guess that absolutely no maintenance has been done on it since then. The reason is simple –there is not much money swashing around in the family: if there were I am sure that they would also have done something about their father’s cataracts which have left him virtually blind. The old man (who has all his marbles) lives with his much younger second wife, obviously the key to his longevity. We wandered around the village observing many local customs which I would guess have been unchanged for centuries. One of them is the practice of burying your dead immediately outside your walls if not within them – so that each house has its own mini cemetery. Tolu showed me his mother’s grave just outside their back gate. It would make resale of the house pretty complicated if such a thing were ever contemplated – but of course it isn’t. It is just assumed that each home will remain within the family in perpetuity.

I asked Mr Olupete whether he thought the coming of the white man had been good for Africa (secretly hoping for an anti-colonial tirade); I was disappointed. He was adamant that the white man had brought entirely good things to Africa and equally clear that the problems of Nigeria were the fault of his fellow countrymen. He was similarly positive about the advent of Christianity which he saw as being vastly superior to the traditional African beliefs. My questions were partly provoked by the fact that I have just been reading THINGS FALL APART by the Nigerian author Chinua Achebe – about the arrival of Europeans in southern Nigeria in the 19th century. It is a brilliant but tragic story.

We carried on the rest of our journey as far as Ikare where we were to spend the night with Awe – a friend of Tolu’s. We stopped in town so that I could visit a cyber café and by the time we left –about 7pm- it was pitch dark. I have no idea how Tolu managed to find the way but he did and Awe was waiting outside to meet us. Even in total darkness it was apparent from the walls and gates that this was a substantial residence – but there was still no electricity and so after a dinner in semi darkness we had an early night.

On Tuesday morning we were up around 7 and after a breakfast of yams and eggs we crossed the lane to view Awe’s farm. It was a large enclosed field, mostly devoted to yams being grown in the traditional way. It is remarkable that this method of farming has remained unchanged for centuries – possibly much longer. On our way into Ikare we visited two local Anglican churches –both very large buildings testifying to the historical importance of the Anglican church in this area. Our next stop was Victory College – Tolu’s alma mater – and one which has sadly seen better days. It was salutary to observe the decrepit classrooms.

We headed next to the market, firstly to meet Tolu's brother-in-law who has a shoe shop there, and then to wander around the narrow alleys where many items found in British museums are still being sold and used today. The most remarkable section was the traditional food and crafts section which included giant snails - a common food here - and a festish stall selling wooden dolls for ancestor worship, dog skulls, and kinds of animals carcasses and skins - fascinating and terrifying!

When we left the market, we went in search of the Oba of Ikare whose palace was just opposite. He was not there, but the large open compound under an enormous and ancient tree was a welcome change to the chaos outside.

We headed next to find out more about the ETERNAL ORDER OF THE CHERUBIM AND SERAPHIM - an indigenous church which began in Ikare. A young man from the house where their founding prophet St. Moses had lived offered to take us to the main pilgrimage sight on the edge of town. It was an enormous field and rocky outcrop on top of which stands the tomb of St. Moses who died in the 1930s. I would love to find out more about this church which is quite enormous in Nigeria but here is what little I do know:

• They are heavily influenced by the Old Testament
• They all wear white
• They have an order of prophets and prophetesses
• They have communion only once a year

From there we went to see the Anglican Cathedral of St. Stephen and then we left Ikare. It had been a most interesting visit.

The return to Akure took no more than two hours and we were back home about 5pm. I went straight to the Cyber Cafe where I failed yet again to post any photos. It is proving extremely difficult and frustrating to upload many of my wonderful photos which I am desperate to share. I came home about 730 having made little progress and after supper it was time for bed.

Well - that leads me on to say a little bit about noise. Gregory (ie Tolu) had warned me that this country is addicted to noise. I can cope with it in the streets and in the markets where music shacks all play local sounds at an impossibly unappreciable level of decibels (spelling please). But in the middle of the night? That is a different story. On Tuesday night I had gone to sleep about 1030 having finished THINGS FALL APART and read Compline in bed. I was content. At about 1230 I was awoken by a charismatic prayer meeting taking place in a chapel not 200 yards from our house. They relay the meeting by loudpeaker to the surrounding area. It lasted for three hours by the end of which I could very easily have committed any act of violence that was open to me. It beggars belief that local people put up with it. It is apparently excused on the grounds that they are sharing their faith and to oppose them would be seen as unchristian. WHAT NONSENSE!!!!!! I keep having to remind myself that I do not live here and that this is not my problem. However, wait for it, this very morning at 5am I was awoken by a local lunatic at our very gate with his own loud speaker spouting random texts of scripture. I jumped out of bed and on to the balcony from where I started shouting at the man much to the amusement of my hosts and neighbours who seemed to think that my efforts were futile even though I was throwing scripture back at him which included HE GIVETH HIS BELOVED SLEEP which seemed particularly apt on this occasion. As on the previous night I could have done him violence and I am already planning the bucket of cold water that I will throw on him if he dares turn up again. I will probably be arrested and this whole sabbatical thing will end in disaster all for lack of a good night's sleep. Kyrie Eleison!

Yesterday morning we were all somewhat drowsy after our broken nights sleep. (See previous post). We had breakfast and headed off to Idarne so that I could lead assembly at the primary school where Lucy (Tolu's wife) is Principal. It is about half an hour from Akure and considered more of a village area. Consequently the children are very unused to seeing an Oyeebo (white man) and they were almost at fever pitch by the time that we arrived. I led the assembly on the story of Zaccheus..............(continued in next post).

Days 5 & 6: Benin City and Warri

We got to Benin City about 5pm last Friday night - the very worse time to arrive. The streets were packed and it felt like all of Nigeria's 140 million citizens had descended on the Oba's Market in the centre of the town. How I did not die from carbon monoxide poisoning I do not know (come to think of it, how all Nigerians do not die from carbon monoxide poisoning is nothing short of a miracle). We met up with Tolu's brother Femi and his wife Lilian and baby son Davies who were to be our hosts for the night. By the time we got to their apartment down the most amazing labyrinth of mud roads, it was nightfall and there was not much to do except eat and sleep. Once again, activities were curtailed because of lack of power.
The following morning we had breakfast and then Femi showed me his paintings: he is a very talented artist. He was to be our guide for the morning, and on the way into town we visted the University of Benin art campus where Femi studied and admired a remarkable sculpture park.
From there we went straight to the city centre and parked in Kings Square (which is actually a roundabout) - a very well maintained circular park that houses the national museum. Although the museum looks impresive from the outside, it is in very poor condition on the inside.
(An interesting aside: the first display case was in darkness because the attendant was charging her mobile phone....)
Nevertheless, the museum contains some amazing bronze work from Benin City's fascinating history and that of their Obas or kings. That history took a violent turn in 1897 when the British destroyed the Oba's palace after rumours of human sacrifice. All so recent! We went from their to the said palace (rebuilt on a small scale at the beginning of the 20th century) to find that we could not have an audience with the present Oba without an appointment. Nevertheless, an investiture of chiefs had just taken place and I was pleased to meet them and have my photograph taken with them. There was not much else to see at the palace and so we went to the Bronze workers street where we bought a traditional souvenir.
After that, Femi directed us to the outskirts of town and it was "Goodbye Benin City - Warri here we come!"
The road to Warri is the best that I have experienced yet - if only they were all so good. We would have steamed along but for the fact that there were army checkposts about every 3 km. This is because of the security problems that they have had in the Delta States. One soldier asked me whether I was not afraid to be taking this road! Not exactly reassuring!
Somewhere along that road we left Edo State (Motto: The Heart of the Nation) and entered Delta State (Motto:?). By the time we got to Warri (about 3pm I think) there was a tropical storm taking place. It was a deluge! We stopped on the outskirts of town and called Jonathan Esin Junior - our host in Warri and the only reason that we had ventured into Delta State. Jonathan was a member of St. John's, Cheetham, for a few years until 2007. He soon arrived and I berated him for providing Manchester weather! It was very good to see him again and he took us straight to his house where we met his mother, his brother and sister-in-law. From there we went to meet his vicar Canon Anthony to clarify what I was to do in church the following morning. The answer was NOT MUCH! Canon Anthony was watching his church football team take part in a tournament and he greeted me with a guffaw HAHA! YOU ARE FROM THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND WHICH IS DYING! ARE YOU WITH THE GAYS OR NOT? I did not think this was a promising start. The Bishop of Warri was also at the football field and I was introduced to him in the same ambivalent way. I agreed to bring a greeting in the service the following morning and it was quite apparent that that was as much as I was welcome to do.
From there, Jonathan took us to our hotel which was fairly basic but perfectly adequate.
I came back with Jonathan, leaving Tolu at the hotel, to spend some time in a cyber cafe. After, he and his brother Okes took me to their local - a bar in a compound somewhere- and I had my first beer since the airport - and my second - both very welcome! The speciality of the house was pepper soup with catfish made by a large woman whom Jonathan referred to as Baby. You have to choose your own catfish from a large barrel where they vigorously resist capture. Half an hour later and the poor creature was on our table and very delicious it tasted too. This was my first pepper soup and Baby had apparently toned it down for my sake: it was still very hot.
Jonathan ran me back to the hotel and sleep soon followed.
Sunday morning we were up soon after six to wash and breakfast before being collected by Jonathan at 715. The Church of the Advent begins their morning worship with a Bible Study at 730. When we got there fifteen minutes after that things were well underway with perhaps 25 people in church. The service proper (Morning Prayer) began about 815 and was to last until about 11. By the end there must have been 150 people in church. It was surprisingly Anglican - I had expected it to be more different. The sermon was delivered by the Reader and went over my head. There was a worship band and a good choir; traditional hymns were sung from A & M Revised - so I felt very much at home. I sat at the front and was allowed to bring a greeting. It was all very friendly and the amibivalent welcome of the previous day seemed even more unnecessary than it had then.
After the service we took a number of photos before Jonathan ran us back to our hotel.
We rested for a couple of hours before J returned to collect us for Sunday lunch at his house: jollof rice, chicken (for the first time) and salad. Very good!
After lunch, J and his brother Okes took us on a tour of Warri. It is an oil town and we saw the refinery from outside and walked around the docks. None of it was very prepossessing but it was a pleasant enough couple of hours.
We returned to the family house for pepper soup - this time with chicken - and then it was time for goodbyes and J ran us to the hotel where the three of us had a beer together before bidding J goodbye and then going to bed.

Days 4 & 5 Akure - Benin City - Warri

Dinner on the first night: don't be fooled by the camera flash: we were eating by kerosene lamp.

Fabrics for sale in the market in Akure.

Me and Gregory - oops I mean Tolu Olopete as I must now learn to call him

One of the many wonderfully named churches in Akure. The guide book says that Christianity "chokes" south western Nigeria where we are. No comment............

I was up at 7 yesterday Friday to get into the local school at 7.30 am to share in the morning assembly. St. Thomas Anglican School is immediately behind Tolu's house and has 350 primary pupils and a similar number of senior students. Morning prayers are held in the open air and last about half an hour with a lot of druming and chanting. I addressed both sections with a simple message about honesty and got a round of applause when I told the students that I found their country very beautiful and their people very friendly. All true! (NOTE - I did not mention the roads or the power cuts). The pupils all joined in my prayers with vigorous Amens and then we said the Lord's Prayer together. I hope to visit the school again. Just to set the scene, I should point out that there are neither doors nor windows on any classroom, there is no electricity, and a member of staff was drawing water from the well when I arrived.
We returned home for breakfast and then I went off the internet cafe to compose post 2. We should have been leaving for Benin City about 10 but in fact we left home about 11 and by the time we had called at Tolu's office and done a couple more errands it was 12 noon. The journey to Benin City from Akure is 175 km. Little did I know it was going to take the best part of six hours to get there. Tolu's daughter Titi came part way with us: we were dropping her at a relatives house on the way. We encoutered a pretty bad hold up on the first part of the journey where the road had become a lake with pot holes, but that was nothing compared to what was to come. About 60 km outside Benin City we hit a very bad traffic jam and it appeared that we were a long way from the front. Just as we were manoevering to see how far back we were, a number of minbuses packed with soldiers arrived behind us. They jumped out with much noise and started heading down to the source of the problem to clear a way for themselves. Somehow we ended up on the left hand side of the road in the privileged line, and in the following half an hour crept past about three kilometers of traffic jam. It was slightly menacing for a time - with some soldiers behind hitting the car and shouting MOVE MOVE; and others in front shouting STOP STOP! But once they saw that the car contained an "Oyeebo" (Yoriba for white man) we seemed to be OK. Eventually we came to the source of the problem - a massive water filled crater and a disabled and ancient timber truck. We were both relieved and embarassed to have got to the front in this way. All around were people shouting at me HEY WHITE MAN TAKE PICTURE! TELL YOUR COUNTRY WHAT NIGERIA IS LIKE! HEY OYEEBO! TAKE PHOTO! SHOW YOUR PEOPLE HOW WE LIVE! It was quite an experience. We only learnt later that many people spent all night on the road. We would have done as well if it had not been for our stroke of luck.

Day 3 -Akure

Me and Greg - or Tolu as I must now learn to call him

Yams for sale - the staple food in Nigeria

A selection of drinks at a corner shop


One of the many weird and wonderful churches around Akure

Tolu and his friend the baker

I think I mentioned the rain? It was really heavy - a tropical storm - and woke me a few times in the night. But as I lay in bed about 7.30 this morning, I was also disturbed by the most amazing and persistent rhythmical drumming. I got up and dressed, determined to discover the source of the drumming, and Titi informed me that it was assembly at the local school. We went to investigate and found that the school right behind Gregory's house is a large Anglican junior and high school. As we got there, assembly in the open air had just finished. I met the vice principal and arranged to go back in there on Friday morning to meet the children at assembly. Back for a breakfast of omelette, bread and tea - very nice - and to various introductions to the neighbours. One of the striking things is that there is very little concept of privacy. There are four apartments in our block, and it is almost like one big family. Everybody comes and goes into each others apartments and at first it is very difficult to work out whose children are whose! The next thing that you notice is that there is lots of laughter! Everyone is very alive and it really is invigorating to be around.

After breakfast, Saka, Titi and Mary brought me to the cyber cafe where they looked over my shoulder as I wrote posts 1 and 2.....

In the afternoon Gregory took me to town to see his office and to do various errands including getting a small job done on the car and buying me some sandals. As Gregory's office is headed "Tolu Olopete and Co" I finally got to the bottom of the name thing and discovered that this is his real name and that in fact "Gregory" was made up for European consumption! So it is Tolu from now on!

Wandering around town included photographing a yam stall and various interesting looking shops, most of which would be classed as shacks or sheds in the UK. We witnessed a traffic accident between a car and a motorcycle (known simply as an "okada" here) which is not uncommon in this traffic.

When we walked along the main road we took about one hour to pass all the markets and traders and it was totally amazing to soak in the atmosphere. Nigeria has three main tribes - the Yoruba, the Ibo and the Hausa. We met them all along the road and I began to understand a bit more. Tolu changed money with a Hausa money changer and bought me some sandals. We went to a western style supermarket which I presume is out of reach of most pockets here. By the way, I felt totally safe the whole way. And indeed I have not felt unsafe since being here.

We took a taxi back to the office and by the time Gregory's car came back from the garage it had gone dark (about 6.30) and it was time to get home. I wish we had gone in the daylight! I have witnessed anything like the driving to get home. Apart from the fact that they drive on the right, there are NO RULES! There are no traffic lights and no courtesy. Gregory - I mean Tolu - had to turn left against oncoming traffic. It took FOREVER. Add that to the pollution, the ruts in the road, the lack of street lights, the fact that many cars do not put on their lights at night, the countless "machines" weaving in and out of traffic, the power cuts meaning that everything is pitch black - and it is nothing short of a miracle that anybody ever gets home. We did, however, and when we did supper was ready and once again it was eaten by kerosene lamp.

The Joseph family next door however have a generator and so can supply their own power during the frequent power cuts. After dinner we retired next door to watch the Nigerian soap SUPER STORY. It is just like all soaps and there were shrieks of laughter all round.

The power came on just before nine but once again I was too tired and went to bed soon after. By the way, I have yet to meet a mosquito!

Day 2 - Lagos - Ibadan - Akure

Dinner on the first night in Akure - Greg, me, Lucy and Jumoke and Titi below

Don't be fooled by the camera flash - it was very dark with only the oil lamp to light the room



The banana tree in the garden

Welcome to Nigeria! A bad section on the main road from Ibadan to Akure

The three hours on the floor in Lagos airport have got to rank as the worst attempt at a night's sleep I have ever had. We were lying near to an ATM that pumped out words and music all night and made sleep virtually impossible. At 5am I gave up and got up! Gregory had experienced much the same problems - Stella, very wisely, had gone to sleep in the car. We went to joint her, and about 6am - just as light was beginning to streak into the sky, we left Murtalla Mohamed International Airport, and headed into the Lagos traffic. I had thought that we might be spending a couple of days in Lagos but in fact we are going to do that at the end of the trip. Today we were heading towards Gregory's home town of Akure via Ibadan where we were due to have breakfast with some friends.

Lagos was already busy and it soon became apparent that the guide book is right: it is a chaotic and overcrowded city with a seemingly interminable traffic problem. Luckily for us, most of the traffic was heading into town while we were heading out.

The journey to Ibadan took about three hours - most of it through the outskirts of Lagos. The roads were not as bad as I had expected and my first impressions were that the country was cleaner than I had expected. Both Gregory and my guide book had warned me that there were piles of rubbish "everywhere" - but that is not true and therefore it was quite a pleasant surprise. There are frequent stops at semi-roadblocks manned by soldiers and/or police. But at every one without exception we were waved through. The main purpose of them seems to be to enable the police to collect their 20 naira from the minibus and taxi drivers. This is called DASH.

One of the striking features of the journey was whenever we slowed down near any town or settlement every vehicle is mobbed by hawkers selling bread, eggs, "balm" and a whole host of things that I have yet to recognise. It is quite an experience. Stella bought some bread from one of them.

We got to Ibadan somewhere around 930am and the first stop was a Bank to meet Stella's daughter and to collect some new wads of Naira. I am beginning to get my head around the money. One pound sterling is worth about 250 naira. The government have apparently just issued some new notes and both Gregory and Stella were keen to get some wads of the said notes to replace their old and dirty ones. Lower denominations are apparently more useful and Stella came back to the car with a wad of crisp 5 naira notes (worth 2p each) and also 10 naira notes.

Ibadan is another huge city with a bustling mass of humanity. Although I was half asleep, I was immediately struck by the vividly coloured and patterned clothes worn by both men and women - both the colour and the cleanliness contrasting sharply with the environment.

We headed to the office of Gregory's friend and mentor Mr Frank Akadiri. He is a warm and hospitable man. I was struck by the fact that Stella knelt as she entered the office - a mark of respect (more about Yoruba traditions later!).

We then went to the Akadiri home where Mrs Akadiri produced a breakfast of rice and sauce with spinach and fish - the fish having been farmed in their own fishery. Their home is a spacious farm house - but like most homes over here appears to have sporadic electricity and no running water. I had a very welcome shower with a dish and bucket; they switched on their own generator so that Gregory could charge his mobile phone.

I slept soundly for about two hours and only woke because it was getting very warm. It was about 1245. Gregory had taken Stella home in the meantime and was ready to leave. We made our farewells at the home and office and soon Gregory and I were on the road to Akure.

Having slept a little more I was slightly more awake and aware than on the first leg of the journey. Ibadan to Akure took about four hours. I was struck by how green and beautiful the country is - I had not expected it to be so verdant. As we got further east it was more undulating - with smaller hills compared to the flat and featureless landscape around Lagos and Ibadan. The roads were mostly very good but can sometimes almost disappear due to subsidence and lack of maintenance. For this reason you can imagine that driving is very stressful - you have to have your wits about you as there are the most horrendous pot holes in the road at any and every point and you have constantly to dodge them. There are no rules about overtaking and so cars pass on every side. You can be driving down a perfect dual carriage way at 90 mph and over the next brow will be a jam because the road has gone, there are huge ruts, and passage is possible only with the most careful negotiation. We passed a huge lorry on its side which had obviously not expected the ruts it had encountered.

We passed through Ile-Ife and Ondo - both pleasant enough towns surrounded by bush land and some interesting looking hills/small mountains. We arrived at Akure just after 5. Gregory was obviously relieved to have got us home safely and before dark: everyone apparently wants to be at their destination before nightfall.

The roads in Gregory's part of town have got to be seen to be believed. They are sandy roads - not paved - with valleys cutting across them - much much bigger than ruts. You would not even attempt to take a car along them in the UK. But Gregory negotiated them with apparent ease and we were soon at his home and the gate was opened by his daughter Titilayo (Titi for short). She has been watching over my shoulder for this whole post and is correcting my spelling. It looks as though we are about to run out of time so I will end here.

We have now sorted out that problem so I will continue. I met Gregory's wife Lucy and his other daughter Jumoke. They live in a pleasant first floor apartment in a block of four. Again, there was no electricity when I arrived and no running water (I discovered today that they have not had the latter for 15 years). But the bedroom is excellent and once again I had a very welcome shower with a dish and bucket. It goes dark around 6.30 and the electricity had just come on about 7 when we were ready to eat. It went off almost immediately so my first meal with the Braimah family was eaten by kerosene lamp. It was a delicious dinner of fish and stew, vegetables and pounded yam followed by an orange. I went to bed about 8pm as I was too tired to think - and as I was going the electricity came back on. This apparently is the norm and there is seldom electricity during the day but it comes on later in the evening and stays on for about six hours. Nevertheless I was too exhausted to stay up and watch tv. I read for a while and put out the light before 9. I was woken intermittently by cheering people who were evidently watching a football game on TV, and by the heavy and prolonged rain that came during the night. But I slept - and that was what I needed the most.