Slave Trade; Pidgin and Jollof: My West Africa

I fell in love with West African cuisine during my days at University.  I was in a circle of friends of different nationalities, most of them West African. They introduced me to Jollof; yam; plantain; shito; gari; waakye you name it. I made a decision in 2015 to take on a West African odyssey. I’d fly to Dakar; use public transport; crossing to Mali ending in Timbuktu for the Timbuktu manuscripts; fly to Benin and continue with public transport to Lagos. Why Lagos? My answer to that is why not? My plan fell through due to the current unrest in Mali, even the airport in Timbuktu is now closed. I pressed on to visit Dakar and Lagos nevertheless, I do not give up on things that matter you see? I booked my flights for solo travel as part of my birthday celebrations since nobody wanted to go to West Africa. A few weeks before travel date, my trusted fellow nomad sent an email telling me about having finished the Comrades marathon (yes, that show off finished Comrades mxm) and further asking what my next adventure would be. I said well, I’m going to West Africa. She said ok I’m in. Dear reader I am talking about #TheNoz, the girl who climbed Mt Kilimanjaro with my brother & I in 2015. A nutcase whom I told about Mt Kilimanjaro as she walked past my workstation. She must have been on her way from the toilet I can’t remember. I said let’s go to Mt Kilimanjaro and she agreed on the spot. Who does that? I thought I’m bad. I once relocated to a city 1300km away after a 2 minute call.

I digress…

I was glad to travel with Noz, she’s full of sht but in a pleasant way.  I chose her for Mt Kilimanjaro because she’s stubborn like me if not worse. I knew she would not cry for her momma half way up the mountain. Once again, with her on my side we would handle anything.

                                   Always choose your travel companion very wisely

3^rd July, my birthday we boarded a plane to Lagos. A fellow passenger, a gentlemen of Nigerian descent asked “Are you ladies South African? What are you going to do in Lagos? Are you going to the Synagogue? I know South Africans, you go to Lagos only to meet TB Joshua” I chuckled because SCOAN was indeed in my itinerary. I make it my business to visit different churches. I went to Moria last year; Shembe on my most recent trip to Durban. Why not SCOAN? What puzzles me about Christians is how we judge one another by denomination. We tend to think “my church is better than yours” like we don’t worship the same God. Jehovas Witnesses is next on the list, I feel like getting judged hehehe

We landed in Lagos at 5h30am and by 9am we were already on the road exploring Lagos. First stop was SCOAN. True to form, we heard two ladies communicating ngesiXhosa LOL! We snapped pics and left for the CBD.

          TB JOSHUA VILLAGE:  THE SCOAN

          

How would we claim to know Lagos without roaming the streets, interact with locals; eat yam; plantain; jollof; fufu and speak pidgin, the lingua franca of most people in English-speaking West Africa?

That’s exactly what we did.

 

YAM



STREETS OF LAGOS

 

 

                   

Ojuelegba

Ojuelegba is a track made famous by a Nigerian artist Wizkid. The lyrics captivated me the first time I heard

“I had to tell my story cos they’d rather show you black kids with flies on their faces on the television.”

I heard this and thought of each and every single one of my African trips. Every country has been different from CNN reports. Africa is beautiful, please try to see as much of it as you can and stay away from Google.

I did lazy research about Ojuelegba. Yes, I googled like Mrs Trump the plagiarist

Ojuelegba is one of the transport nodes of Lagos, connecting the city's mainlands with Lagos Island and Victoria Island. I later found out that Fela Kuti the great had made reference to Ojuelegba in his 1975 Confusion album. According to Nigerian historian Toyin Falola, Confusion depicts the complicated, frenetic, and multilingual market of the Ojuelegba crossroad, and in doing so addresses the "infrastructural nightmare of Lagos and the continued hegemony of the West in all aspects of African life”

I wanted to tread there, amongst the greats

 

Ni Ojuelegba o
My people dey there
My people suffer
Them dey pray for blessing eh
Ni Ojuelegba o
My people dey there
Them dey pray for blessing
For better living eh eh

 

 

My people could do with better living alright. Think Noord taxi rank in Johannesburg. Hawkers everywhere; people shouting; taxis and hooters; people trying to make a living. What stood out for me was girls texting and talking on their phones with no worry of getting mugged. We felt no danger as well which was rather surreal. We walked around in shorts and mini dresses and suffered no harassment. No unsolicited whistles or men shouting “my size; slenda sama catalogue” or any of those unwelcome comments.

      OJUELEGBA     

 

Afrika Shrine

One cannot appreciate Lagos or Nigeria at large and disregard Fela Kuti’s music. That man is a god, may he rest in peace. Fela was unapologetic about his life or his views and music is how he expressed himself.

 

Fela started a nightclub in 1970, first named the Afro-Spot and then the Afrika Shrine, where he performed regularly. The Shrine burned to the ground in 1977 unfortunately after an assault by the Nigerian military.

The New Afrika Shrine is the replacement of the old Afrika Shrine. It is an open air entertainment centre located in Ikeja and is the official venue for the annual Felabration music festival.

   THE NEW AFRIKA SHRINE

We went there twice in one day. The place has got a such a  good vide, everyone easygoing, probably because they're high. I heard from a local that weed is legal in the premises. I stand corrected

                                       

 

RAGGA NIGHT

 

 

 

 

 IT'S A FELABRATION YO!!!!

 

 WELKOM NA DI SHRINE

 

 

 

 

FELABRATION

 

 

 

 



          I am feeling good tonight. This thing had got me thanking God for life. I can’t explain

 

Balogun Market

I wanted fabric as always, I collect fabric in every African country I visit.

We visited Balogun, a huge market on Lagos Island with no particular address because it sprawls across so many streets. I am a claustrophobe. I am also very afraid of crowds, Enochlophobia they call it. I usually bite the bullet for live performances however. Walking in a market as big and as busy as Balogun was going to be a tall order. My God it felt like I was about to walk the green mile. What if I become dizzy or faint? LOL! Little did I know that Noz is exactly the same. In fact we realised just how similar we are in the days that we spent together.

BALOGUN MARKET

                      


 We walked the streets like locals, negotiating for fabric. This is a typical market, not the cleanest of places but what does one expect?

 

Victoria Island

Victoria Island is one of the most exclusive and expensive areas to live in Nigeria.  It sits between Lagos Island and the Lekki Peninsula in the Lagos Lagoon. The beach; the beach; the beach. I hear it is the favourite spot for Nigerians and foreigners to live and play. It is the first place that most of my friends referred me to like I did not grow up along the Indian Ocean. Besides, they wanted to charge us for access to the beach, lark what gives?

Shoreline Protection Project

      VICTORIA ISLAND     

We did not spend too much time there, it reminded me of Johannesburg and Cape Town. Those cities exhaust me, we elected to live amongst locals at Ikeja in the mainland instead.

Highlights; Lowlights & Observations

1.       I never came across a single smoker in my days in Lagos, not  on the streets or restaurants. Well, except for the time we spent at the New Afrika Shrine. Even Weed is legal in those premises (I stand corrected).

1.       Hospitality. Not that I expected any less, but Nigerians are so warm. Despite what you’ve been told, NOBODY asked me for money in Lagos whether in the form of a bribe or otherwise

2.       Price of petrol, 145 Naira per litre. That is the equivalent of R7.50 laaaaark SA needs oil yo!

3.       Walking out of Shoprite at Ikeja Mall without change. The cashier simply said my sista I don’t have 15 Naira (~75c) and that was the end of it AHAHAHAHAHA. I had a blank look on my face and she simply continued with her business. Their currency is so weak currently, they need smaller denominations.

4.       Food. I was home: Yam for breakfast; plantain for lunch; jollof for supper. Why would I be mad?

 

 

UNILAG

 

 

5.       Tolerance between religions. According to a local said there exists a rule regarding Presidency. If the President is Christian, their deputy is automatically Muslim and vice versa. I stand corrected once again

6.    English is the common language in Lagos. I expected Yoruba? I later corrected myself, it's like walking the streets of Johannesburg where people of different languages converge

7. There no tall, dark men. I was counted amongst the tallest people around. I'm only 1.73m .

8.       Ojuelegba  - I was at there, finally. Thank you Wizkid

 

 

 

 

7.       Parking our car at Balogun Market and leaving our keys with car guards to move it if needs be. I said we left car keys with car guards yo!!!

8.       Visible policing. I was mostly impressed by the power held by female police. They were right there in the middle of Ojuelegba, giving instructions to everyone including taxi drivers. Very pleasing to watch. I guess that’s why we witnessed no muggings

Dakar

Not many people liked the idea of me going to Lagos but everyone wanted to go to Dakar. Uhm..whatever. I got introduced to Dakar by Max Du Preez in his book the Pale Native. Chapter 20 of the book is Dakar Legacy where he speaks of The Dakar conference of 1987, organised by Breyten Breytenbach Frederik van Zyl Slabbert and Alex Boraine between a group of predominantly Afrikaners and a delegation from the African National Congress in exile. This is the conference where our beloved Thabo Mbeki famously declared to loud applause that “I am myself an Afrikaner.” I do wish he showed more of his humorous side during his 14 years in Government but alas. 

My second encounter with Senegal was the 2002 FIFA world cup where the national team, the Lions of Teranga beat France 0 -1 Senegal in the opening match.  That was the end of the world cup for France, world champions at the time. They were out psychologically and they simply could not come back from that defeat.

Third encounter would be through “Almost Sleeping My Way To Timbuktu” a book by local author Sihle Khumalo. He is one of my most favourite narrators, he talks a lot of smack yet taking you through the journey like you were his shadow.

The three landmarks for me in Dakar were the Monument Of African Renaissance;  Goree Island and Le Thiossane, the nightclub owned and run by Yossou N’dour of course.

The African Renaissance Monument is the tallest statue in Africa. It is a 49 meter tall bronze statue located on top of one of the twin hills known as Collines des Mamelles (Mamelles is breastases ehehehe). Built overlooking the Atlantic Ocean in the Ouakam suburb, the statue was designed by the Senegalese architect Pierre Goudiaby after an idea presented by president Abdoulaye Wade and built by Mansudae Overseas Projects, a company from North Korea.

 

    

    MONUMENT OF AFRICAN RENAISSANCE

SHALL WE DANCE?

 

 

 

The monument is made of 3-centimetre thick metal sheets and depicts a family group emerging from a mountaintop: a full-length statue of a young woman, a man, and held aloft on the man's raised left arm, a child resolutely pointing west towards the sea.

Unveiling

On 3 April 2010, the African Renaissance Monument was unveiled in Dakar in front of 19 African heads of state, including President of Malawi and the African Union Bingu wa Mutharika, Jean Ping of the African Union Commission and the Presidents of Benin, Cape Verde, Republic of Congo, Ivory Coast, Gambia, Liberia, Mali, Mauritania and Zimbabwe, amongst others

President Wade said "It brings to life our common destiny. Africa has arrived in the 21st century standing tall and more ready than ever to take its destiny into its hands". President Bingu said "This monument does not belong to Senegal. It belongs to the African people wherever we are"

Critics had a lot to say about it, I chose to not cover it here.

The Island of Goree

The island of Gorée, now a UNESCO World Heritage Site was one of the first places in Africa to be settled by Europeans in the 15^th century.  

Nota Bene: It is my aim to stay away from how different European countries (Portugal; France; Britain) occupied and took over our continent. I shall speak only of their good side here, SLAVE TRADE

Gorée is known as the location of the House of Slaves, one of the oldest houses on the island; a slave holding warehouse, a centre for the trade, I SAID TRADE of at least 20 million African men; women and children. It is now used as a tourist destination to show the horrors of the slave trade throughout the Atlantic world. It was through this Island that slaves parted to South America, the Caribbean, and North America

Back to our holiday, I was rather hesitant about this visit. I doubted my emotional and mental readiness. Another island of slavery? A mere 5 months ago I took my dad on a tour of Robben Island. A rather emotional visit that makes you walk away with so much anger towards colonialist for the conditions under which they made our political prisoners live. The likes of our Nelson Mandela; our Govan Mbeki; our Jacob Zuma; our Walter Sisulu spend most of their adulthood there; working under the worst conditions. How slave masters made us use the same utensils to bath and relieve ourselves; the diet provided to us, sugar only on Christmas; how they made such dignified men strip in front of white young men to simply emasculate them. They tried alright but the determination of our leaders was beyond their expectation. They worked hard under the worst conditions with the purpose to walk out of there one day and grant us the freedom that you and I enjoy today.

God bless Africa.

We boarded a ferry at Port Auntonome De Dakar planning to spend the entire day there. We met a local, Mr David who offered to take us around the island at a small fee of course, though there was no discussion of this upfront.

   




 A few moments later, there was Goree Island. May I first speak of how beautiful it is? The shore looks so peaceful you’d deny all the horrors that took place in that perimeter.

 
 

House of Slaves

The House of Slaves (Maison des Esclaves) and its Door of No Return is a museum and memorial to the Atlantic slave trade on Gorée Island. The House of Slaves is said to memorialise the final exit point of the slaves from Africa.

    

Mr David took us through different cells, separated by gender of course. Men; women and children. Yes they brought families to this island to enslave them. Men would be crammed in a cell, with the privilege of relieving themselves only once a day. He showed us a room that was set aside for slaves who were considered to be underweight. They would lock you in this cell for a period of 3 months and feed your skinny ass.

 



A  CELL FOR UNDERWEIGHT SLAVES. THEY WOULD KEEP YOU HERE AND FEED YOUR FOR THREE MONTHS IN PREPARATION FOR TRADE. NOBODY WANTS A SKINNY SLAVE, HOW WOULD YOU WORK IN THE FIELDS OTHERWISE



 

The would later sell you to customers in South America, the Caribbean, and North American. BASTARDOS!!!!

Conditions at House of Slaves

·         Human beings were chained and shackled. As many as 30 men would sit in a 1m2 cell with only a small slit of window facing outward.

·         Once a day, they were fed and allowed to attend to their needs, but still the house was overrun with disease. For instances that you needed to relieve yourself outside that time, they provided ONE bucket for all cellmates to do their number 1 and 2. Imagine the smell and germs that God’s children were subjected to. It feels sometimes that Europeans see Africans as creatures with no souls. They would not even treat their dogs in this manner. These are the people that brought us the bible that says God created us in His image. Blood flows through our veins too yet the treatment they afforded us makes you wonder.

·         They were naked, except for a piece of cloth around their waists.

·       TChildren were put in a long narrow cell used for them to lie on the floor, one against the other.

·         Children were separated from their mothers. Their mothers were across the courtyard, likely unable to hear their children cry.  Here in our country too, most of our mothers spent most of their time nursing white children. We missed out on being carried on our mothers’ backs; being fed by our mothers; nurturing in its entirety because they spent the entire month at bass’ home and were only let out to “visit” us at the end of the month. Next time one of your colleagues/friends brag about being raised by a black woman (Mavis), ask them who raised Mavis’ children and whether they paid Mavis a pension fund after serving their family for over 30 years with utmost loyalty.

·         The rebellious Africans were locked up in an oppressive, small cubicle under the stairs; while seawater was sipped through the holes to step up dehydration. SEA WATER,  ladies and gentlemen



Our Nelson Mandela is reported to have broken away from a tour to sit alone in a basement cell for five minutes in silent reflection upon his visit at the House Of Slaves.

                             Like I said earlier,  black people have seen hell and survived.

Door of No Return

This is the small door through which every man, woman and child walked to the slave boat, catching a last glimpse of their homeland. Your destination would be America or sharks of the Atlantic ocean if you took ill en route *sigh*
 

It was through this door that your destination was determined. Chained and shackled we would be sold to the slave master’s customer of choice. They would sell the Father to one country; mother to another and child to the circus in a different country if they so chose.

Once again I ask, these are people who brought us the bible. What made them do such evil towards us? How evil would you be to separate a family across countries?

 

I often say they did not buy slaves, they took mothers; fathers; Doctors; Nuclear Scientists; Lawyers; Economists; Presidents; Teachers and MADE THEM SLAVES

We have been encouraged to forgive; reconcile and sing kumbaya to the sunset but my question has always been “who are we forgiving, did colonialists ask for our forgiveness at all, are they even aware of the hurt and pain they inflicted upon us?”

I chose to put a spin to the Door of No return. Instead of shackles, Noz and I held hands and rose them up to display victory not defeat.

      

 

                                      Dear Blacks, I think we forgave and moved on too quickly

 

 

Pictures of the Island

 

STATUE OF LIBERATION: IT SYMBOLISES FREEDOM FROM THE SLAVE TRADE WHEN MEN AND WOMEN CAN OPENLY SHOW AFFECTION AFTER BEING SEPARATED IN DIFFERENT CONFINEMENTS FOR MONTHS IN SLAVE HOUSES AND THE SLAVE SHIP

 

                      LA ISLA BONNITA

 

                 

 

 

I WROTE MY NAME ON THE WALL. CHIZAMA WAS THERE

 

Highlights; Lowlights and Observations

1.       Travelling with that mental case Noz once again. There was no mountain to climb this time, we spent so much time together we realised how similar we are. Our personalities are exactly the same. It’s weird

 

 

Pretty girls

 

 

2.       We had an unpleasant encounter with a taxi driver. I had sent an email to our hotel to send transport for us upon landing in Dakar. They did not respond unfortunately. We landed in the early hours of the morning and were desperate to get to the hotel. A rather overzealous young man approached us, to which we responded “please do not worry about us, we are fine” I tried soliciting a lift from other taxi companies to no avail and went back to the tall young man. He loaded our luggage and spent a good two minutes speaking to airport security about his papers before starting the engine. We found this a bit strange. Once we were through that process and ready to go another young man came in and there were suddenly two men in the car. Noz asked “why are two men driving us instead of one” There was no response, she asked again before exiting. I tried to get out through my door and there was no handle. I jumped out through her door, the hair at the back of my neck was up at this point and there was chill running down my spine. We raised our voices knowing very well we had nothing to lose. We demanded to have our luggage offloaded. Like I said we had nothing to lose, we spoke at the top of our voices seeking attention. What I found strange is : I called one of the officials for help or intervention. He did not bother diffusing the situation. He stood at a distance, watching the entire episode unfold. I’m still perplexed. Was he in on the plan? From checking his papers for two minutes; two drivers. Something was not right. We got our stuff back eventually. #Mbokodo

3.       Attention at Lagos airport. From the moment we got off our lift, a random girl shouted “ezaseMsansi” I assume she was South African. Security stopped their duties and gave us all the attention it was surreal: Asking us to take them with to wherever we were headed. Customs, same thing we felt important LOL!

4.       State of Le Thiossane. I was looking forward to spending my evening at this establishment.  This is a night club Owned by Youssou N'Dour. I was shocked by how dilapidated it has become. Perhaps I expected the same vibe as the New Afrika Shrine but alas

 

5.       Live band at the Radisson hotel

6.       Running out of money in Dakar. We did not run out of money more than the local ATM rejected our bank cards. We encountered the same problems in Kilimanjaro, my cards would not work but Noz’s did. I carried four cards in this instance, backup upon backup. Noz’s only bank card got blocked upon landing in Dakar. “No problem” I said “I have four different cards, one of them will work” We kept withdrawing using my cards. I must say that withdrawal turned out to be such a tall order. It was a hit or miss literally, we’d sometimes visit up to 5 different banks before we received service. We even decided to go inside one bank to seek help, as advised by our South African Premier bankers only to be told that they only help people whose accounts are held in Senegal SMH. So as we checked out at one hotel, I presented my card and they said they only take cash AHAHAHA. We had had dinners and drunk their wine in their premises. So what now? Cards don’t work what must happen. We chose to lay by the pool and talk smack, argh what’s the worst that could happen?

Trying to figure out what to do with the money situation LOL!

 We walked the streets looking for our lucky ATM. Upon successful checkout I said to Noz, we are going to the Radisson, our cards will definitely work there. We gatecrashed a wedding and enjoyed the sunset there with a live band.

Live Band in the water

 

WE MADE A CAMEO ROLE IN THEIR WEDDING ALBUM

STREETS  OF  DAKAR  

 

                 

 

 

 

 

As for this overdesigned tea cup. Creatives need to take it easy, I could not hold the handle SMH

                 

 

 

 

 I will wait patiently for the unrest to subside in Mali. I have an appointment with the late Ali Farka Toure in Timbuktu you know?

To  the people of Lagos & Dakar: O se & Merci

Thank YOU for reading