“Haggling Apprentice – You’re Fired!”

There are a million photographs to be taken here; however, there is a general prohibition because even a casual photograph of nothing in particular will result in a near violent altercation with someone who thinks you are gaining something at their expense. There is nothing charitable about the way of life here. If someone does you a favour it is with the expressed expectation that they are owed a debt which must be repaid soon. It is a dog eat dog world and everything under the sun has a value of some description. We got a lift to the market on Friday, a journey of 5 minutes, but I think I have to house a Nigerian teacher, his two wives and twelve children when they are next in the UK. I think it will be cheaper to move house!

Children camp outside our houses in the hope that they may get a sweet or a bottle or intercept any rubbish we throw away. Shopping for us can be a bit of a trial as we will offer 100 Naira (40p) for some tomatoes or eggs or onions and you might get one or a bag full. Traders will charge more to white skins for however much they can get away with. We just pay the price if it seems reasonable but rarely argue.

When it comes to a major purchase the haggling starts in earnest. Having avidly followed the ‘Apprentice’, the tip I picked up was that when bargaining, you never pay more than half of the original asking price. You can see the glee on the traders faces as we approach (with trepidation).

One needs a manager and back up crew just to set foot in the doorway of a stall holder who comes from a tradition of thousands of years of negotiation. At a recent visit to Kurmi Market, one of the oldest markets in Africa, we were led down alleyways that defied compass bearings. Each trader had the equivalent of a walk-in wardrobe as his space for trading. Slaves were originally bought and sold here, so the place has brooding air of despair for those that enter!

Some traders really ought to visit John Lewis‘ lighting, gift or soft furnishing departments to see how to set out your wares properly... There might be a bargain to be had, but it’s hard to see clearly in the dim alleyways and the word ‘Bature’ flashes around the market. Bature means white person or in this case ‘easy prey’ would be more apt.

Eking out my meagre funds: having bought too much costly tuna fish from outrageously highly priced western supermarkets. I endeavour to find a souvenir of Nigeria.

My late mother always comes to mind on these occasions. We were in Hong Kong many years ago when my brother was living there and she would enter into negotiation with a Chinese trader who didn’t speak a word of English. Having had a verbal exchange in which neither would understand the other, my Mum would always say “How much for two Love?” and issue a ‘V’ sign in complete innocence...

Dawakin Tofa, where we go to market for vegetables. Mud houses with refuse strewn about!

The ‘Apprentice’ advice gets a very mixed reception. Some real disdain or a turned back which I see as a victory because the trader feels he’s not going to make much money out of me. However I leave souvenir-less which leads me to doubt my approach. I try again at a cupboard selling Islamic Rosary Beads. First I get one price, and then another, then another, so making a choice I’m then told that they are more expensive because they are made from amber. There then follows a lengthy discussion about yellow plastic beads do not in fact constitute amber. This brings the price down to the one before last. Are you keeping up with this? Because I’m not... In the end you kind of lose the will to live and would rather just find a bar or cafe to regroup. But then this is Kano... no bars and no cafes that you would recognise! Life is so much easier when the price is displayed...

Some people are very good at getting the best price for everything and I admire them greatly. After an hour or so, we’d had enough and a guide took us back to the mini bus, where someone was being paid to ‘look after’ it. Still cheaper than parking in Bristol though. This haggling business, I must really get the hang of it or employ someone to do it for me! Where’s Karen Dinning when you need her? I spent nearly £20 on a hat which in the cold light of day was a huge mistake. It’s worth £2.50 at most: wonder what it would fetch on e-bay? As Lord Sugar would say...”Really pathetic, they saw you coming – you’re fired!”



Some of my unofficial class - SS2A. The teachers here are on strike, so being a boarding school the boys fend for themselves hanging about the classrooms. We have an english lesson each morning to keep them occupied!



Coffee and Paracetamol!

‘Twas the night before Mawlid and not a sound was to be heard not even a mouse. Not exactly...

Laying beneath my mosquito net and trying vainly to get to sleep, a lizard starts running back and forth across the window screen. I throw a t shirt at it and it leaves abruptly! I then hear it clamber across my tin roof. Why is it one’s knowledge of the world is never remotely conclusive? I thought lizards only became mobile in the sunlight, yet here we are, moon becoming brighter by the minute, it’s twenty five minutes to midnight and lizards are dancing around the house in around 25 degrees!

A scratching noise from the direction of my bedroom door forces me to turn my torch on. (Having had to chase a rat out of my colleagues’ house just the previous night, whilst they just screamed continuously; causing quite a commotion thank you very much... I wouldn’t have minded but the blighter lunged for me (trio of screaming momentarily...) before I shooed it out of the door with a broom), so did not fancy another round. No it was a large cockroach!  At least I think a 4 inch cockroach is a tad large. It didn’t appreciate the torch light, so left momentarily. I then pondered whether to get up and try and catch it or leave it alone as they go again by daylight. Oh no, it decides to come back with the express purpose to annoy me. So starts the game of “catch me if you can” for at least 10 minutes, chasing it around the walls and ceiling of the house. What my neighbours must have thought I do not know. Cockroaches are good at teasing you. They move so quickly, that even though I’m sure I’ve temporarily blinded it with my torch light, the bin I thrust down to capture it misses and it scoots a few centimetres out of reach. Desperate times call for desperate measures, so I hit it with the broom. Having stunned it, I throw it quite ceremoniously out of the front door Fred Flinstone fashion.

Another battle won, I retreat to my room after getting a drink and settle down to some deserved sleep...  In the distance a dog barks and then the P.A. system in the traditional village next door starts up. I don’t believe it! Why start a gathering at midnight? (I find out the next day that the village were celebrating the birth of the Prophet Mohammed. Mawlid refers to the observance of this feast and is celebrated in the third month of the Islamic calendar (February time)). There were prayers, stories and singing especially from the children. However, this middle of the night interruption was compounded by the blasted guinea fowl outside my courtyard starting an almighty ruckus. This starts off the goat that’s tied to my neighbours’ fence ( He is the Hausa teacher at school – nice man called Abubaka, though why the goat is tethered I don’t know... Goats can have a really excruciating bleat, they also break wind constantly and loudly! There then follows at least an hour of cacophony that would drive a man to drink – except I have only water in the house. By 2:30am the night is at peace again. So I turn off the ipod (of which I am now thoroughly bored with) and settle for some quality sleep.  A cockerel crows, a dog barks and half an hour later the P.A. is at full volume again...

Nigerian schools start to take over my alert mind and before I know it: the 4am call to prayer starts in the town then passes across the countryside from village to village. 4:30am , 5am...  Cock starts crowing – again and again, then the dog barks, then the hideous guinea fowl start – what’s the use!  Well there are some e-mails to type so I may as well get up and by 6:17am precisely, the bees in the lemon tree are buzzing quite loudly and the birds are in full song. A dawn of a bright new day... quick get me some coffee and paracetamol!

Symbol of the Prophet Mohammad from Wikipedia

Local three & four year olds at school because the state funds a teacher! They sit in the shade of a tree as there is no room for them to go in. So even when the Harmattan wind is going strong, they chant and sing and listen to stories. Not one single piece of equipment exists for them to play or explore with!



Looking out from within! Children at the traditional village school (who would have been up all night for Mawlid). The school was not as bad as we thought it would be and compares favourably to others we have seen including the 'Model School'.

The staff of the local traditional village school. The women break off lessons to feed their own children whom they carry with them. Arabic, Maths, English, Hausa and PHE teachers compliment the staff. I'm stood next to the head teacher.





Part of the 'Neighbourhood Watch' gang!

Little Hassan with his tyre!



Bashful Sidiq!



See a camera and all goes to pot!

Sainab at full volume!

Farouk framed!

Mohammed

Sainab, Faroul and Mohammed's sister! 

Mr.Cool!

Not London Fashion Week!




and the winning contestant is...

My wife and I often know what we don’t like in the clothing line as opposed to what we do like. In recent years, with maturity, clothes buying has lost the excitement that it once had. However since I have been in Nigeria, I have been struck by clothes envy! The Abuja (Christian) Man has the wildest African print on a shirt and draw string pants, They are the colours that only a black guy can wear. Well actually a black person seems to look good in any colour. Pale white skins need to be more careful. What colour you wear draws comment from those around you – at least behind your back at any rate. Abuja Man looks cool and hip!

The Kano (Muslim) Man looks elegant in his plain long shirt with understated embroidery around the neck with matching pants underneath. An embroidered Nehru hat finishes the ensemble. The sight of tens of thousands of muslim men attending Friday prayers, forming an ocean of billowing material of every hue under the sun, is something to behold. Nigerians are not colour prejudiced in the way that we are regarding clothing. What I mean by this is that a burly 6 foot Nigerian male would not think twice about wearing a bright pink ensemble, with contrasting baby blue accessories. From a distance it could be Barbara Cartland, though closer appreciation proves this to be far from the truth. So who gets top prize – the Christian or the Muslim?

I need to put this to the test so having been assaulted by the masses at Kurmi market, I have chosen the most outrageous material I could find for ‘Abuja Clements’ and a neat grey/blue material for ‘Kano Clements’. £7 for around 12 yards in all... call the tailor!

Wearing a full face crash helmet in 40 degree heat is not something I relish at all. Having got the opportunity of riding on the back of Khalifa’s bike into Kano City to attend Mass at Our Lady of Fatima Cathedral, I weighed up the possibility of being involved in a crash with or without a helmet. I could wear the helmet, faint in the heat, and fall off the bike that way, or not wear a helmet and be prepared for any eventuality. I thought in my infantile wisdom that God would not want me to crash when I was going to mass anyway, does he do irony? An hour and ten minutes later, we arrived helmetless. I almost thought it pointless going in to the church as I’d spent the majority of the journey in prayer. But buoyed by the achievement of actually arriving, I settled into a really memorable experience. The Christian women were a sight to behold themselves, wearing the most gigantic and elaborate head-dresses. The prints were so fanciful, decorative  and utterly fantastic! Abuja Man was everywhere to be seen so the place was a riot of colour – well apart from me in chinos and a shirt from M&S.

The choir master and choir were amazing and people danced in their pews to the music of praise. Each bench had to process to place your offertory envelope in a sack and then the offertory procession itself starts. Hundreds and hundreds of people brought a crying child first; then it turned into the Generation Game conveyor belt. The offertory included sacks of oranges, boxes of bottled water, electric fans, a bicycle(!), a projector stand... and on it went for nearly twenty minutes until the back of the altar looked like a warehouse. Another hour was to go by before the end of mass. Just as everyone was ready to leave, a child threw up in the doorway. And as Nigerian women hitched up their prints to tread carefully away, it seemed to me the Christians had swung it their way. However you will be the judge...

We popped in to the tailor on the way back from the city. Abuja Man will stand out a mile. In fact you’ll see me coming from as far away as Morocco at thirty thousand feet! The outfit is literally blinding! Kano Man is still on the sewing machine, so wait and see.

The irony would have been complete if I’d had an accident on the way back from church, but I’m pleased to report there were no incidents!

(Since going to press, I can report that we were assigned by the inspectorate to join them on a routine inspection of a secondary school. Our driver pulled out too sharply from refuelling and a motor bike rider ploughed into the side of us! Who on earth would want to go on a bike without a crash helmet? Cyclist shaken but not stirred!)

Turn right at the 'Killing Tree!' - another market day...




  

Hazy morning travelling east from Dawakin Tofa towards the Kano - Katsina Road


 Walking into Dawakin from the school last Friday was to be a relaxing end to what had been a busy week. We had been travelling 3 - 4 hours per day back and forth to a science and technical school that seemed designed to harness the heat of the sun and point it directly to wherever I stood in class. Now was the weekend, a bit of food shopping and the weekend would be set up. The whole school goes into the town for Friday prayers at the mosque, so we were greeted by several multitudes of boys on their way back as we were going in the opposite direction. The market was a lot busier than the time before, but we thought that the locals would have got used to our white skins after nearly seven weeks, so this visit would be fine.
It can be quite disconcerting as I've mentioned before, when literally hundreds of people just stop what they are doing, mouths dropping, just because I've walked by! (Checked to make sure my trouser zip was indeed correct...)Anyhow we pass the millet, maize, rice, tomatoes, chillies, onions and oranges and start to take a closer look at some of the more unusual items. There were some amazing dried fish and some mirrors fashioned out of old CD's that had little battery holders for some lights that were also attached. These were selling like 'hot cakes'.
This brings me to the real reason we went to the market, as my colleague Annabelle had taken a fancy to some clay pots that hold hot coals in them. You oil the lid which has some small crater like troughs fashioned in it. After adding your dough, it acts like a little oven. I thought it might work for yorkshire puddings! 
Dawakin is famous for its pottery and as we walked along a path through the market towards the kilns, I noticed that we had an entourage of at least 30 children. We thought if we went into the narrow alley ways of the pottery kilns, the children would disappear. At this moment I was accosted yet again by a ranting old man who was saying I don't know what. This has happened before. A passing staff member from school interpretted that the man was demanding money from me as "all white people are rich!" In comparison to him I must be a billionaire. And like all billionaires, I pleaded poverty and told him the women have all my money... That sorted him out!
We knew we had to turn right at the 'Killing Tree', which is a place one wouldn't want to hang about for too long a time. In every market, each trade has its own 'quarter'. So fast food, meat on skewers etc was prepared by the killing tree as I call it. Underneath its branches, various animals were dispatched, skinned or plucked and cooked! The ground was red with blood stains and feathers flew in all directions. Being a complete coward in this respect... I love to see cows in fields and sheep in meadows and always look for the associate bargain in Tesco's or Sainsbury's on a Saturday. But you show me a poor goat or sheep being led bleating plaintively by the foot and I think being a vegetarian would be the best for all concerned. Having turned the corner, it was out of sight and nearly out of mind...

At the pottery, Annabelle negotiated 100N ( about 40p) for a 4 cake size bowl. The children grew in number to the point where it was uncomfortable and in the end, we beat a hasty retreat. If this is how Peter Andre gets his kicks, I'm glad I'm not a celebrity. The market could have made more money that day, but it seems the novelty of our skin colour has not worn off! No meat and two veg. for dinner either!















Harmattan

Harmattan is the name given to the sub-saharan wind that can blow for days and create a fog of red dust up to several metres high. What looks like a dense fog in the distance is the amount of dust billowing around in that area. If you've ever wondered why regular kids looked caked in dust from head to toe, whilst wondering why their mothers don't make them wash more: now I understand! It's impossible. 
Everywhere around gets covered in dust. It blows under doors so that science equipment looks as if it hasn't been touched for years!!! You hang washing out on a 'clear day' only to find it wasn't that clear after all. All clothes take on a slight rusty appearance, especially after washing...
Then there's the water issue. We've had no water for two days, so Mr Sani took his Indian taxi laden with water carriers to a bore hole in the town to fill. Bless him! Some staff walk the nearly two miles there and back with a small dustbin of water on their heads - around 40 litres worth. Now why would any mother be concerned by a little dust that her 10 year old picks up whilst playing football outside?Think of the water you would have to use! It's not that there isn't water, it's just how far you've to go to collect it.
The Heath Robinson contraption that keeps going on a whim and a prayer pumping water, seems to have given up the ghost. No water in school either. That means 800 boys have been without water to drink or wash with for two days. Nobody seems bothered - only me!

Reciting from the board

One of the Foundation Classes

Home time!

There are different Harmattan's for different times of the year. Nigeria, hopes every election time that a 'wind of change' will happen for the nation's better. We visited a 'model' school and had been warned beforehand not to think all schools were like this, as this was better than most.
The Principal and Deputy were very welcoming and hospitable. The children were splendid and well behaved. The prefects had different coloured hats on depending on what they were prefect for. Some for gardening, sports captain, class monitor etc. We saw neat rows of wooden benches, populated by boys to one side and girls to the other. The rooms were bare and clean - monitors clean the floors of any debris that flies in from outside. They also had a games pitch and field to go to!
We saw some handwriting practice and some Arabic lessons - learning by rote.
The majority of classes had a teacher, some of those without had prefects to look after them. They had a library, and a few computers but without internet access. Occasional children would be invited to learn about the keyboard and mouse operations. It was a very informative visit and showed how the primary phase fits with the secondary in education. It's quite breezy today!

"Some mothers do 'av 'em!"

Don't look now!

One has to avert one’s gaze as you walk from the staff quarters to the school as countless boys will be in the scrub bushes going to the toilet as the school’s toilets are being renovated with a new block planned. Always discrete, they are naturally embarrassed if you happen to trip over someone about their business!

 The boys here are great, they work so desperately hard, knowing that a good education is their ticket to a brighter future.  We like the staff tremendously. All articulate and trying their best at a difficult time for teaching in Nigeria: when they are paid so little. Most teachers need to earn money on the side just to make ends meet.

We will be working with the English department naturally as well as running workshops on teaching and learning to those who are interested. The English department has a ceiling tile missing which gives a large owl living in the roof space access to defecate over books and precious materials. A requisition has been made to the board to fix the tile, but it can take forever for such a trivial thing to be rectified. In the meantime, where can I get a ladder from... ? Local management of schools would rectify this!

The library is one of the better we have seen but still has very few books by any standards. The boys are desperate to get their hands on any English materials to gain a better understanding of vocabulary and comprehension. With little access to T.V.  and most bookshops only to be found in the Sabon Gari  (where the foreigners and Christians live ) district, it also comes down to money as novels are very rare and expensive. Second hand paperbacks can cost as much as ten pounds. This is an obvious area that needs support in their learning. With the help of our school, we might be able to do something about this! The boys come to just talk or borrow a book and check their understanding throughout the day on the weekend or after school during the week. Passing English is their most consuming issue. It’s not so much an issue if you come from a wealthier family.

The new ICT suite will be great when it is commissioned though in the meantime it gathers dust until all the logistics are in place. I have warned of the dangers of treating the computers too preciously. We know from experience that they should be used as much as possible as a tool for learning because they will soon become out of date. The Board will get the best price to put in a suite but the computers often come with no software or just a small pirated copy so cannot be properly upgraded. There needs to be more joined up thinking. The staff have the answers but the powers that be need to consult more when commissioning.

Cooking for 800 boys three times a day is quite a challenge. We saw the outdoor kitchen at work today as the ladies toiled away making broad beans with millet porridge for lunch. I think I’ll give it a miss today. Health and safety at work don’t make me laugh – open boiling cauldrons with babies crawling around! Now where’s that ladder?

Too many cooks?



Mmmm... boiled broad beans - very nutritious

 

"Please Sir, I want some more!"









Are we there yet? A Driver's Tale

I had finished packing my suitcase and thought it time to go down to breakfast. Full of anticipation at what the marketing manager would have organised. My heart sank as I looked about the buffet.  The Nigerian breakfasts are loaded with carbohydrate. There were several doughy options, no fruit or vegetables, hard fried eggs, pancakes and toast without any spread. I opted for a thick pancake which came without any topping. I sat with my cup of black tea to chew the pancake. Breakfast I would not miss but the occasional hot water in the shower and the very noisy air conditioning unit in my room I would miss. I must talk to the marketing manager...

At table our driver was upset because he had received a phone call in the night asking him to keep the partying quiet! And that in future he should not take alcohol into his room. Considering there were over 20 students staying in the hotel one suspected that someone else had got their wires crossed. However for a devoutly Muslim man, he was upset to think someone thought he had been drinking and partying. A colleague went to complain to the duty manager that this had happened whilst I tried to pacify him and get him to eat something, given that we had a long journey ahead of us.

The duty manager apologised, driver happy, tried to check out of hotel... The ensuing power cut meant there was a huge delay in printing off room charges and an hour later we were ready to leave.

It was something of a luxury to have a mini bus for five including the driver, so when we found out the Principal had kindly offered an extra five students attending the training, a lift back to Kano, I knew it was to be a hot and claustrophobic journey.

Abuja has terrific roads, but like everywhere else in Nigeria, road traffic accidents are an accepted part of everyday life. Lorries carry far too much weight and mini buses squash double what they are expected to carry in terms of passengers and speeding helps you make more journeys and more money. If your side of the road is gridlocked then drive on the pavement (!) or the other side of the road. Everyone has to maximise their own profit!

In the newspaper the previous day two small paragraphs of writing stated that 28 people had died in two separate accidents between Kaduna and Katsina and Kaduna and Kano. 10 had been burned alive! Abuja has lovely wide roads; the same as a dual carriageway, except you come across junctions where the lights aren’t working. Imagine if you dare that vehicles travelling at speed come to a crossroads where literally 8 lanes of traffic collide, you understand the excitement of it all. Always carry a spare pair of pants... that’s my motto!

Another point to bear in mind is not to offer an opinion on what direction you should travel in with seven Nigerians in the same vehicle. Well one of them had to be right and after an hour we were just leaving the city having taken several wrong turns, when we ended up pointing in the wrong direction again with a flat tyre! I watched the bags at the back of the vehicle, whilst the students and driver put on the spare. An old man passed and asked where we were going, replying Kano he burst into uncontrollable laughter as he tried to point out the fact that we were headed in the wrong direction. A broken down vehicle is a huge attraction for street vendors who appear out of nowhere at a moment’s notice to sell you...well everything! The students took pity on an old woman carrying a baby on her back and a gigantic basket of Yams on her head. They were a good price so they bought the lot. Now to fit them into the van...

Two minutes later, we were on the move complete with Yams falling around the floor and in the safe knowledge that one more u-turn would see us in the right direction. 50 metres later the driver indicated left and pulled over. What happened next was a bit of a whirl, but basically the van was attacked by two traffic police. One over 6 feet 5 inches tall and the other, a black version of Hattie Jacques. She was shouting and complaining as she forced herself into the van, hitting the driver, demanding to see his licence and threatening to arrest all of us. Pulling the vehicle over, we all piled out with the Principal and students pleading with her for mercy as the driver was unaware we couldn’t u-turn and that they had important guests in the vehicle from England. She was eventually ushered away to a safe distance, looking at us occasionally and was then given what she wanted... a little dash! She demanded an introduction to all the white people and after hitting the driver a few more times cheerily waved us off. I really felt sorry for the driver, it was not his day! Accused of drinking and partying, then abused by a ‘Christian’. We still hadn’t left Abuja’s city boundary. We were supposed to leave at 9am and it was now midday. The next four hours went by in an uncomfortably hot blur...

The driver’s mum had been admitted to hospital a few days before for poor breathing and he was glad that the Principal had acceded to his request to make a small detour of an hour to see how she was. Arriving, he was met by his elder sisters and we followed him at his request, to visit his mother.

Hospitals can now be added to my list of Nigerian experiences. There will of course be state of the art hospitals in parts of Nigeria for the very rich. This was considered a good hospital in the medium price range for those that decide to go. You have to pay first before you are admitted. The Female and Paediatric Ward was near the end of the building and was quite a sorry state. We passed some sick children who were obviously poorly and were being looked after by someone in their family. Luckily, the driver’s Mum looked to be on the road to recovery. We introduced ourselves to her and two more of his sisters and then left them alone for a while after a bit of small talk.  Apparently apart from some ancillary staff the hospital ‘functions’ by a visiting doctor doing a morning call and a visiting nurse in the afternoon. I thought the schools were poor in comparison but...

By 7pm we reached Kano central and after stopping to drop people off and briefly buy some bottled water and a water melon; we arrived back ‘home’ – clothes like wet rags and with a numb bottom.

The No.1 Ladies Detective Agency

Scene 1 Outside the Crystal Palace Hotel, Abuja, 4 VSO Volunteers are waiting to hail a taxi and stand arguing over the price for at least two minutes. White skins carry a premium unless you argue.

“Ah, you are going out tonight!”

“Yes Mma”, I replied.

Silence from the hotel owner who was the spitting image of Mma Ramotswe from the BBC version of the No 1 Ladies Detective Agency.

“Some of these taxis are no good. Ex. Pats and volunteers need to choose carefully”.

“Really Mma!”

“Yes, I am very choosy. Have you eaten?”

“No Mma.”

“Are you going to a restaurant?” Finally getting to the point.

“Yes Mma!” We had to admit. Then came the expected onslaught.

“You know we can do any food you like, just order it up, you do not need to go out to spend your money, we can give you everything at this hotel. “

“Yes Mma!”

She continued. “We have conference facilities and 24 hour internet cafe. I’ve told my marketing manager, anything you want, you can have.”

I was surprised she had a marketing manager at all but thought this was a good development for her hotel.

“Where are you going?”

“’Ketchup’ Mma, but we don’t know the address only the district. We hoped the taxi driver would know.”

“ I will get my marketing manager.”

We let the taxi we’d just secured go away whilst Mma Ramotswe telephones her marketing manager who had already left for home and drags him back to inform us where the restaurant could be found. He explains to the next taxi driver to come along and off we go. Of course what Mma didn’t know was that it was her marketing manager that recommended the restaurant in the first place...

Scene 2. Travelling by taxi in Abuja at night must be one of the most exciting pastimes one could wish for. In the absence of any extreme sports or world class theme park, travelling by taxi comes a close second.

I let my colleagues share the back seat and selfishly accept the front passenger seat as it has more room. Until that is, we set off. Aware that there isn’t a working seat belt, I rue the decision to sit in front and say a few ‘Hail Marys’ for good measure. Often with my eyes closed at Junctions.

Scene 3. ‘Ketchup’ With wall to wall Premiership football repeated continuously (everyone in Nigeria seems to support Chelsea (!)). Had a delicious chicken shwarma with fries and a Chapmans non alcoholic cocktail.

Scene 4. Hotel Lobby. Arrived back at the hotel and discussed with Mma, the merits of having some fruit or juice served at breakfast. I will inform the marketing manager she says and we wave a cheery goodnight!

Scene 5. Hotel Room. Midnight... Violently ill... Thought hotel food might be OK after all!

Teacher Training Workshop - Abuja

6^th & 7^th February 2011

Mr Musa Idris Musa, our Principal with graduates

Having taught for a year as part of the National Youth Training Corps, the assembled 24 or so graduates had elected to continue teaching another year and were having their meagre salary paid for by VSO.

Teaching is still overwhelmingly didactic and poor performance is always the fault of the pupils, not the teacher. Unsurprisingly therefore, our workshop was based on learning. Marianne kicked off with how the brain functions and various learning styles. Annabelle followed with different learning pedagogies. Ingrid (who organised the logistics) covered inclusive education and I finished with what makes an effective learner and the role the teacher needs to play.

The graduates were all enthusiastic, articulate, bright and receptive. It gave one a good feeling that Nigerian children have some potentially very able teachers. It just depends whether it can hold on to them or not.

The graduates were all friendly and engaging and could easily see the links between poor pupil performance and the restricted teaching approaches. What they were being asked to do as having had no previous training, was to go back to school and teach in a very different way to that of their colleagues. A challenge indeed. The hope is that they will apply their new knowledge in a small way and analyse the outcome. Analysis of application, reflection of any kind seems lacking. Having given out e-mail addresses and telephone numbers, we expect a great deal of contact from them. Five graduates are from our own area of Kano State and so we will be visiting them and supporting however we can.

More teachers are I think still needed to come from the UK to model the different approaches and high level of interaction between teacher and pupil. We will undoubtedly be teaching a lot more and so our brief continues to expand in order to support the areas that need us most.

Conversations went on into the night with those graduates who had one question after another to satisfy.

Home and Away



Working at my laptop in lounge area.



Collecting water with Kalif ,a biology teacher.





This is my bedroom with Mosquito net.



1^st February 2011 (Martha’s Birthday)

Today we met up with the boys and staff of Dawakin Tofa, where we are staying to see the first assembly of the year. The Principal Mr Musa Idris Musa welcomed us after the boys had been led in prayer for around 10 minutes and the national anthem had been sung. The Press Club then gave their weekly news roundup including their interview of the three visiting head teachers from England. They outlined the similarities and differences between the school system in Nigeria and UK. There then followed a message about where happiness can be found...

After a final prayer we attended a staff meeting informing the teachers of the problems with the electricity and water. The fact that public schools had their old bills paid off by the state but that the Science & Technology Colleges would not. This gave rise to a heated debate which lasted ten minutes or so, and then the meeting finished without any resolution.

Visited the town market today to buy our usual tomatoes, chillies, onions and garlic. We bought some sesame seed snacks from a little girl carrying them on her head. I liked them, they had a toasted flavour. One old man came up to me and started having an argument about what only heaven knows. People still stop and stare a great deal at us. We have been told that it might be assumed by the locals, that my two female colleagues would be considered as my wives, just because we walk together. This might seem strange to us until I explain that the overwhelming majority of men in this part of Nigeria would have more than one wife! It is very common for a man and wife to decide together that the man can marry a second, third, fourth or even more times. It is an outward sign of his wealth that he can afford many wives and many children.

2^nd February

Visited our first school that we are to be working with. It took nearly two hours to get there! The Principal showed us around his school which is a technical school and specialises in teaching trades to boys such as block walling, carpentry, electrical engineering and agricultural tooling. They have very few resources compared to the other schools we have seen, but the Principal is resolute in looking after what he has. Nigerians are very hospitable and before we left we were given a ‘Malting’ which is a non alcoholic drink that looks like beer but is not. Muslim people do not drink alcohol.

Our next school was south of the city and is similar to the boys school we are staying at. Another boarding school specialising in science. They have had a new ICT suite built which is really fantastic. However it has not been commissioned yet, but will be a great resource. We also learned that even though the government may choose schools to build such suites they do not come with software or internet access or have the electricity to run them. Let’s hope this won’t happen at this school.

3^rd February

Visited our first girl’s school which was great to see. Most girls may drop out of school after the primary age, but more and more are starting to attend secondary schools. There are only a few day schools, no boarding. The girls all wore Islamic dress with white Hijabs.  They all looked a bit like Our Lady or young nuns and had different coloured piping on their clothes depending on whether they were juniors or senior science or senior technical. They have up to 90 girls in a class. 10 rows of 9. They copy a passage from the board in English even if they do not understand English and then learn it by rote. Those that can assimilate the information will go further up the education ladder! We really enjoyed all of our visits and hope to work with the schools over the coming weeks.

We also met some of the NYSC student teachers and will be travelling to Abuja on Sunday ready to give them some training on Monday and Tuesday next week.

The Tannery

Yusuf then took us a little off the beaten track tourist wise and we arrived in a side street having passed a rather large rubbish point. We weaved through small alley ways with raw sewage trickling into open sewers. We made our way through this on stepping stone arrangements. All the while I was wondering which of us would be the first to trip and fall down. Why my doctor’s surgery thought I wouldn’t need a cholera vaccination I’ll never know. I kind of regretted agreeing with them at this moment in time. Luckily, most of the sewers seemed choked with plastic bags and bottles, so God alone knows how this archaic system would cope in the spring rains expected in April. After a few minutes we came to a clearing that showed various stages of curing leather for all sorts of purposes. There was goat skin, crocodile skin, snake skin and other animal skin too! The smell was appalling and you could see pits of different substances that are part of the tanning process. You might want to research how leather is made especially in days gone by, because I can assure you, not much has changed here since biblical times. In amongst this squalid and really interesting place were children playing and animals looking at us quite bemused. If only they knew!

After that we went further into the city and came across a little oasis in the chaos called Kano Zoo. It is a little run down but only 100 Naira to get in (about 40p!). We spent a lovely hour or more looking at the hippo, giraffes, monkeys and birds. However one thing I’m not sure about... There was a baby elephant all by itself, apparently its mother had died. It wasn’t more than 2 – 3years in age, but to me it looked very lonely. Can some of you research whether it needs to be with other elephants? If so then I think we should write to the zoo to see if they can find him a friend to stay with him. We might even write to the Emir for his suggestions too?  I’ve taken a bit of film using the flip camera and will try to upload it when we visit the British Council next. They have better internet connections than I have where I’m staying. When British people work abroad, we can register with our Government so they know where we are. They then send us an e-mail to say if ever we need any help, we can just contact them. So we might use their computers when we next visit.

Meanwhile back on the compound where we are staying...

The oldest boys who are the only ones back at school because of impending exams: are very polite and respectful. They are a bit shy, but one class monitor will be interviewing us for the school news magazine. The water was back on today (hooray!) so no need to get the ever obliging Mr Sani to collect it for us from a solar pumped water tank in his three-wheeled Indian Taxi.

Indigo Dye Pits

We had heard of the famous Indigo Dye Pits near Kofa Mati Gate and Sani had got out of the van to negotiate with a guide how much it would cost. The pits are among the oldest in whole of Africa! Whilst waiting, we received a message to come in across a very busy road. We see minor accidents every time we go into the city. Having navigated ourselves across the busy road, we found Sani in negotiation with someone else. We had been unknowingly lured out of the mini-van by another guide who wanted our custom. After a minor spat we listened to Yusuf our guide who told us about the process of dying cloth deep blue!

Indigo is very similar to henna and is grown and processed in the same way. Water, ash, potassium and indigo plant is put into a calabash and mixed in the correct quantities. Then put into a well about 6 metres deep and left to ferment, mixed with a giant pole. The ash adds brightness to the colour, the potassium fixes the dye to the material and the indigo colours it blue.

After a suitable amount of time, the cloth is dipped, if left in too little it comes out greenish so it is important to get the timing right. The cloth is lifted regularly for the oxygen in the air to help the process. Tie dye patterns are often knotted in with string before the dying process starts.

When we take a picture of someone at work, they get offended unless you offer them a little money called ‘dash!’

Yusuf was very informative and then showed us how the cloth is ironed. Strong armed men wield large wooden mallets and beat the cloth on split logs. This was followed by the inevitable hard sell as white people are regarded as being very rich by comparison to the workers in the dye pits. I bought some cloth with tie dye patterns which I will bring back to school. Mrs Clements will be thrilled with yet another artefact for our collection. We kept Yusuf with us for the next part of our trip around the city when we visited a tannery...

Ancient & Modern

Ancient and Modern

The old city walls date back to the year 1053 and are several metres thick and the same in height. There is a ditch on the outside which makes them look more impressive and far more difficult to invade. They have lasted over a thousand years of weathering and though not intact can still be seen along much of their original length and later extended to 25 km in length. The German Government have helped rebuilding some of the walls. They are made from clay mixed with straw.

There were originally 15 gates called ‘Kofars’ that lead in and out of the old city. These have long gone but have been replaced with modern equivalents. When the British Army invaded in 1903, their canons were no match for the ancient metal panelled doors. Some of the old gate doors can be seen at the Gidan Makama Museum. This is a 15^th Century house that is now an ancient monument and was originally the Emir’s Palace before the new one was built. In the museum we saw shields made from skin. They might have originally been made using elephant’s ears! Bows and arrows were the weapon of choice followed by the spear, then sword or dagger.

The original kingdom was invaded by Jihadists who defeated the king and set up a new ruler called an Emir. The current Emir lives in his palace and he is nearly 80 years old and is called Emir Alhaji Ado Bayero. Nigeria became independent in 1960.

Around and about



Plastic bags are a blight on the environment and can be seen for miles in all directions. There is no need for a refuse collection because everything is recycled. Card and paper can be used for many things and can be burnt as fuel. Plastic bottles are rare but are used again and again either with different contents or adapted for storage. Palm oil is sold in small quantities from the street traders, so children are often seen buying it in small amounts from bigger plastic drums. As refuse tends to be dumped in a particular area: goats, sheep, cattle, chickens and rats can often be found pouring over the site and eating anything edible - not necessarily food! Tin cans are cut neatly or beaten flat and used as makeshift tools, containers or toys. All that remains is the plastic bag. 







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 These are some of the teachers' houses at Dawakin Tofa where we are staying. It is very quiet during the day as we rarely see the teachers' wives who stay inside, engaged in chores.

A small flock of sheep that roam the school grounds.



A lesson in language

19th January 2011

I'm struggling with the add-hoc internet arrangements to upload pictures but will try again later. In the meantime it's about time we had our first language lesson in 'Hausa'.
Ina kwana means 'Good Morning'
Ina Wuni means 'Good afternoon' & 'Good evening'
Na gode means 'Thank you'
Faranta Zuciya means 'Please'
and... Ina bayin ku? means 'Where is the toilet?'

I will be testing you all later...

Asking where the toilet can be located is important in our culture because of our habits. However here in Kano you will find people going to the loo by the side of the road as there is no community sewage system. Buildings that are large or small developments like a school will have their own local sewage system. Travelling by bus along the road, it is hard not to notice all that is going on, but I think it is rude to stare. There is no other way it can be organised until the country grows in wealth. If we were to go back in time in our country's history, people would have been doing what the poorer people do here!

Market Day

Friday 14th Jan.
We are a couple of miles from the main road and will have to walk that before we get a taxi bike or taxi if we need to get around. Sani, a teacher at the college where we are staying has laid on the college bus for us to get some provisions. In the supermarket, men and women went to different kiosks to pay.
We have no electricity or water, apart from collecting it by bucket from a stand pipe. My phone does not work and battery life is ebbing away. We were able to get a dongle but need to find a longer term solution to our energy needs.
Sub-Saharan winds batter the college campus in the mornings. Rats, goats, guinea fowl and termite hills abound. There are some beautiful small finch birds and lots of lizards.
We bought pans and sheets but couldn't afford blankets just yet. We've acquired a gas burner for heating water for washing and drinking once it's been filtered. I live next door but one to my two colleague heads. The houses are spacious and sparsely furnished. We just about survived the choking city to get to bed by 10pm. Slept in clothes but with a sheet and makeshift pillow. I was much warmer last night!

Kano or bust

Stating a time in Nigeria to meet or be picked up is a little loose around the edges. Having checked out of the Crystal Palace Hotel at 9am we were picked up just before midday to go to the VSO Office where we met our employer from National Youth Service Corps named Mahadi, collected our allowance of N36,000(around £144 to last a month...) and left. However it took us a long while to find the way out of the city as many roads were close due to election rallies. There are few signposts anyway. After nearly seven hours, we arrived at the outskirts of Kano and suffered a flat tyre! Seeing three white people standing idle but for chatting on the central reservation(!) caused a little stir. Another bus was called to retrieve us and onwards we went. Kano was completely overwhelming. Cars were actually pushing their way around junctions with pedestrians and motor bikes weaving in and out under a thick layer of dense blue exhaust fumes. A further two hours later and out of the city we arived at the boys college where we will be staying. In pitch darkness the principal welcomed us by torchlight. I went to sleep in my clothes on a bare mattress as we will have to provide our own bits and bobs for every day living. The only torch to hand was Shay Brennan's wind-up duck! The stars were amazing...

Nassarawa

Wednesday 12th Jan.
We travelled to Lafia in Nassarawa State to meet Ingrid who is another volunteer working in Nigeria from Holland. I was originally intended to work here also. However, Nigerians take hosting very seriously and there was not any suitable accommodation for me, hence the swap to Kano.
The road out of Abuja left me open-mouthed as we finally saw the incredible poverty of many of the people. We passed a market with literally hundreds of thousands of people as far as the eye could see all buying and selling. Absolute proof if any were needed that even as a child, if you are not out early, working, collecting wood or trading in some goods or services, there would be nobody else to care for you.
Some parts of the road were treacherous and had disappeared completely as overly burdened trucks slowly drove their way to the next destination.
Arriving in Lafia, we again met some dignitaries and had lunch with Ingrid. It was traditional food. Tuo(?) a maize dough which you dip into the accompanying delicious spicey fish soup. I had to wash my right hand carefully at table because we ate with our fingers. It was a little messy! Ingrid told us of the programmes she was hoping to establish. We had drinks with Mr Peter her boss who gave us cooked chicken to take away with us. this was very generous. Marianne had the claw of the chicken decoratively placed in its beak!