The power cut...

Sitting in front of my computer, typing between phone calls. The printer hums beside me, lights flash on the photocopier behind. Information kiosks blink in the corner, the heater warms my toes. And in a flash it’s all gone. A power cut in Ireland.
An alarm shrieks in the sudden dullness. And in a minute folks start to gather. Figuring out how to contact Emergency Services without a landline. How to gather information without the switchboard. How to inform folks without the intercom. A plan quickly comes together – a mobile phone brings accurate information about the lightly duration of the problem. After a bout of jokes, work resumes in whatever shape is possible.
Power cuts in Nigeria are a bit different. For starters they happen several times a day – if you’re lucky. Cos if there are no power cuts - there’s a very good chance there was no power to cut. Blackouts are greeted with a wearied shrug, a shake of the head, and a flurry of window-opening. After a bout of jokes, work resumes in whatever shape is possible.

Happy days...

Kabba happy Kabba










Treking in Kagoro









Bauchi bash









Paddys morning fry up









Dutch mayhem

Favourite pictures of Nigerian children...

Children sitting on Dala Hill - one of the most beautiful places in Nigeria










Fishing at Guara Falls












My gorgeous neighbours

Favourite pictures of work...

Primary 6 St Peter and Pauls Primary School, Mikenkeli






















Library staff & my mam (and honoury staff Aiesha)









Library skillshare










CERC colleagues - Kolos, Shu'aibu & Sadisu

Irish summer...

Dry.
Looks like rain.
Mist.
Rain in the wind.
Spitting.
Raining.
Heavy shower.
Bucketing down.
Absolutely pourin.

Irish Winter.

Adventures of a returnee...

Turns out I’m not ready to stop writing just yet, so off I go again.
Now that I’m home, there really are too many differences to take in. But sometimes things just take me by surprise. Like potholes. After a few months in Limerick I am now familiar with the 2 potholes on my regular routes. Gone are the days of jitterbug driving as I battered my noggin of the roof/window/other passengers; bottom trampolining on suspensionless seats; dramatic swerving, gesturing & honking punctuated by varyingly serious breakdowns.
Driving is one of the best consolations of being home.