Nother day nother dollar...

7.30am: woken by torrential rain. Ominous dips in the ceiling so I have the mop close by.
9.00am: still looking out at the rain. Would need an ark to get across the road to work.
9.15am: finally brave the (bucketing down) drizzle. Short greetings this morning as I run by.
9.20am: too wet to get up to much today thats not at my desk; report writing it is :-(
10.00am: light goes but there are students in so they 'on' the generator. Wahoo.
11.15am: bye bye students bye bye light.
11.35am: hallelujah nepa. Against all expectations light is back.
12.05pm: and gone again.
1.25pm: orange flashing light horror. Computer battery deserts me.
1.30pm: inspired to write blog entry as it may be the only constructive thing I do now.
1.35pm: report writing on paper. Double whammy.
4.45pm: light is back. Sod it, Im off home.

On a happier note...

My neighbour has been making my hair for me recently. So whenever I look at bit raggy, she sorts me out. Result!

A couple of affordable book series have been available in local stores of late. They are simple comicbook-like story books with Nigerian characters and scenes. One lot are Christian-themed stories of good neighbours, not telling lies, working hard and so on. The other set are Islamic-themed books about all of the animals God made, about behaving well and so on. Tailor made.

Getting mad...

School holiday time means an influx of little colourer-iners at work and at home. By the weekend I was in need of a break and I took a morning off to read in peace. But long after I had explained this, the rattles on my window persisted. So I let a very loud yelp out of me and scattered them! Then today when the kids were drawing, one of them knocked over a carton of colouring pencils. Six little bodies stiffened and looked up at me. Waiting for the onslaught I presume.
Do Westerners get upset about different things I wonder. I have witnessed many kids (& adults) being roared at or whacked for making a mistake. Intent doesnt seem to be taken into account. Whereas when the kids kept on intruding on my me-time, I could not be rational!

Once, in a beer garden with a bunch of VSOs, there were some kids messing. One of the lads had been pretend-chasing them as we walked to the bar and so they were stuck to him. As he sat there they would creep up to him, he would turn and roar and they would run away shrieking. But then a man walked in, heard the roar and saw the retreating kids. He grabbed one and started beating him. It was a totally instinctive reaction: deal with adult dissatifaction by hitting out. An oyibo playacting with these scruffy kids wasnt easily explained. But then roaring at kids who just want to greet (again) probably isnt too reasonable either...

Letter writing for beginners...

I haven't quite been able to put my finger on this yet - but there are some interesting issues around letter writing here. It could be that its the 'done thing' or that people do not trust their English in important moments, but I have a hunch that awkward situations are just easier to deal with in writing than in person.
People that I know have asked me for money on just a couple of occasions (one was travelling, another asked just before Sallah). But both wrote their requests on little sheets on paper and handed them to me. Then stood there while I read. Its most unusual! I have been welcomed and asked questions on paper by someone who rarely makes conversation. And then this week my little neighbour wrote me a note. It contained all the stuff you would expect (name, age, school, class) and then it asked when I planned to marry!
Its an unusual tradition, one that I have to figure out a bit more...

The stowaway...

Took a car to Kontagora yesterday morning - but caught it from the roadside rather than the motorpark. Turns out the union guys dont like that. So while we were all standing about waiting for the car to fill, a union chap from the local motorpark commandeered the front seat. I guess the logic is clear - hit the driver where it hurts, in his wallet. By taking up a seat, the driver earns less money.
Well yeah, that would be logical. Except of course, thats not what happens. So now instead of 2 people sharing the front seat, there are 3. Yep, 3 people plus the driver in the front of the car, 4 in the back and 1 in the boot (... to boot).
After much incomprehensible Hausa argument and stopping the car several times to try to get the stowaway to drop, he eventually came to his senses about 30 mins into the journey. Making it marginally more comfortable (well, for everyone except the poor sod in the boot).

A little holiday...

Had a lovely relaxing time in Benin City last weekend. Benin is a 6-hour drive south of Abuja, down where they take Rainy Season very seriously indeed. The heavy tropical rainfall produces lush green grass and foliage so that the city feels very different from the terracota north.

Jenny has some friends living on a palm oil plantation which is a real retreat. Enjoyed home cooking, a good book and a swim in the pool in the rain. A real treat :-)

All this for N100...

Its pretty hard to get books in Nigeria - there isnt much of a culture of reading. However for a mere N100 you can buy choose from an array of text message books. Useful for wooing or stalking your beloved. Here are some of my favourites:

Love is like an hourglass, with the heart filling up as the brain empties, now I see why I've been senseless with you. I wish I wasnt so much of a fool for you.

It takes 3 seconds to say I love you. 3 hours to explain it and a lifetime to prove. It took all my tears to loose you.

If you give me your kiss for breakfast, your hug for lunch and your love for dinner, I promise you will never catach me eating elsewhere because I have no reason to do so.

You are like antibiotics
Your smile is like analgesic
Your touch is anti-inflammatory
Your presence is antiseptic
Your sms is anti-pyretic...
Thats why I never fall ill!

And a special message for all my Niaja neighbours...

Dear God, bless those who call me; erase the credit of those who only flash me; and for all those who dont call me at all, may they loose their handsets to area boys. Amen.

Sometimes nothing happens...

You anticipate tough times here in Nigeria – the elections, the strike, they even predicted violence for the eclipse last year. But these times generally simmer down to a whimper and pass me by. Then there are weeks like this. No water. Intermitent light (3 hour bursts). Very slow internet. This unforeseen go-slow is more annoying cos its unexpected and unexplained. Life is pretty good most of the time in Minna, but then sometimes nothing works.

My new friends...

Workshops are regularly held in our compound for various external bodies. It has no real impact on me, just a bit more bustle about the place. Until yesterday evening that is. I was heading home when a group of women participants accosted me for a snap. Before they had asked my name, my reason for being here or anything at all, the photographer had been summoned. While he organised himself, we exchanged names and stories. It’s like being famous for absolutely no reason at all! My new friends came back to greet me today and to invite me to Katsina (far north). It’s easy to forget the novelty of being different after 20 months; it was lovely to be reminded.

It still surprises me that I am not judged more by what I wear. Of my 6 new friends, 5 were wearing a burka. They were covered from head to mid-calf, with only their faces showing. Similarly at our workshop last week, more than half of the participants were so covered. Yet I am accepted as I wander around in cropped trousers and v-neck t-shirts. I know there is a general consensus that I look strange (my strong sandals in particular are regularly looked up and down), but I expected more negative reactions. Infact, the only reactions that I am aware of from Muslim women have been generous and curious and humorous. Turns out I was the more judgemental :-)

Julia's birthday...

We stayed on in Kano for Julia's birthday. Got to see some of the sites but more importantly we got to shop! We visited the labyrinth that is Kurmi market as well as the colourful and plentiful cloth market. And we rounded off the weekend with a pool party at the legendary Kano Bobs (as distinct from the legendary Irish Bob). Good times all round.

Skill share in Kano...

The volunteers had our patch meeting/skill share in Kano last week. Over 30 of us got together from all over Northern Nigeria, including several brand new volunteers. The workshops were interesting and I particularly enjoyed the one on the impact of gender in our work. A simple exercise - we were divided into 4 groups and each group was given a couple of recent newspapers. We were asked to tear out the pictures and place the photos of men in one row and women in another row. Incredibly, more than 80% of the pictures were of men, and those of women reflected their place in the societial hierarchy. For instance a named man pictured with his unnamed wives or women protrayed as victims. The exercise was also enriched because we are such a diverse group - volunteers come from all corners of the world; we are different ages, different religions, different genders. A true learning experience.

Weathering the storm...

The heavy rain and high winds of the past few weeks are really taking their tole on the traders of Minna. One morning last week I was sure that the demolitions had reached our town. But it was the weather that had rescaped the main roads. The commercial huts and stalls are largely made of wood and tin; these were reduced to rubble. Over the past few days they have been replaced by upturned barrels, tyres and low tables. Fruit and veg are piled low where they used to overflow. My local stationery shop (a metal container like the ones carried on large lorries) has disappeared. Clothes hang on available wall space rather than sit on tables. Its humbling to see people with little adapt to having even less.

Developing my organisational skills...

The logistics of organising a workshop are more hands-on than I am used to. So the invitation letters need to be hand-delivered as the postal service is a big no-no. In order to be taken seriously, the invitation should be handed to the principal by the invitee (i.e. I couldnt lob this job off to a driver). So I spent 2 days on okadas travelling to each of the 20 schools, which of course are in every nook and cranny of the city. Its odd that the same job would take a matter of minutes at home (by email), but I think the personal touch adds alot to the process. And 15 of the 20 invited schools were turned up - a statistic that emailed invitations at home would rarely create.

Library training...

Things have been a little hectic lately! We had a two-day workshop for the library staff of local secondary schools last week. It seemed to go pretty well and the participants were lovely. Of course no one turned up on time on day 1 because workshops usually have an opening ceremony that starts hours after it is scheduled. But they all turned up on time on day 2 which was really nice. Concrete subjects such as cataloguing and classification went down a good deal better than the more abstract ones; fundraising in particular was met with blank stares. All in all they were a very enjoyable (and absolutely exhausting) 2 days.

The review at the end was very uplifting... not because no one rated any session any less than the best option (which kinda nullifies the whole process) but because once again in the 'any other comments' section I was wished the blessings of God and of Allah. That has a strangely humbling effect on you after 2 days in the company of these strong and capable women.