The East – Awka, Anambra State

I had a long-standing intention to travel to the East of Nigeria to experience a different side of the country, but unfortunately left it too late and had only this small opportunity in my final week.

My trip from Abuja to Awka was reasonably more comfortable as it was done in a shared taxi. To my mild amusement I finally met, in the form of another passenger a local who seemed to be suffering the kind of intestinal difficulties that have visited upon me so frequently during my stay. As such we had to stop the car every so often for him to relieve himself.

Arriving at Awka I was warmly greeted by one local who promptly informed me that he would "Chop my dollar". This is a classic reference in Naija but for you others I'll explain.

There is a popular myth, shattered by visitors to the country such as myself, that all white men (foreigners in general really) are rich. An extension of this would be to say they all carry lots of American dollars and they are to be taken advantage of. The particular quote this guy on the street used has been popularised in a song with the following lyrics. My translations of the pidgin bits are below.

Oyinbo man
I go chop your dollar
I go take your money disappear
419 is just a game
You are the loser
I am the winner
You be the mugu, I be the master

White man (Oyinbo)
I will take/eat (chop) your money (dollars)
Monetary fraud (419) is just a game
You be the gullible foreigner (mugu)

Luckily this chap was just being friendly and after a short bike ride I made it to Uju's house. Uju is a good friend I ran into at a few conference during my stay, firstly at WALDS.

Unfortunately I don't have many interesting tales to tell as I fell ill just after arrival and spent the next two days moping around wishing I didn't feel so bad (sorry again Uju for being such a miserable guest).

Something I did find amusing concerned some of the other inhabitants of Uju's household. She had there two cousins, boys of around 8-10 years old, who had been sent over from America. It seems to be a Nigerian tradition for parents who raise kids in UK or USA to send their kids back to Nigeria for a bit (or all) of their school years to either straighten them out or otherwise understand the Nigerian way of life and the language. In the case of these two boys it was to straighten them out. Speaking to one of them he seemed, after two years, still miserable about this transition to the simpler life. On a side note I managed to scare the little girl in the house for a day before she finally warmed up to me.

Walking around the town the night of my arrival we bumped into some other AIESECers. Whilst this was fairly nice, they proceeded to recruit me into going on AIESEC marketing meetings the next day as its rare they get a foreigner and trainee in town. Apparently this works wonders with the local companies. Pity for them I was sick the next day and they forgot to call anyway. Your loss folks!

Also walking around the market the next day, Uju and I had the pleasure of bearing the brunt of jokes from the local sellers. As she and I walked through the stalls all sorts of comments were being yelled out at us. Of course I could not understand what they were saying because it was all in the local language (Igbo) but I guessed correctly what they were saying. Uju, didn’t want to say at first, but I guessed correctly and she told me they were saying. This included such things as "make sure you get the bride price from him quickly", "make sure you hang on to that one darling" and other such comments intimating she'd made a good catch in his particular white man (more on the white men are all rich fantasy).