Held Hostage In Nigeria Part 1of 2: just getting there

Habari Y'all,

Oh, where can I begin? The past two weeks have presented so many stories to me, I hardly know which one to choose. First let me apologize for being late, but I was unable to get Internet access from my hotel room and my blogger is blocked from the work location here. You see, I'm writing to you from the lovely country of Nigeria...the city of Lagos to be exact. Let me just tell you the ordeal I went through just trying to reach this destination. It all began Thursday, July 14th at the Nigerian Embassy in Nairobi. I had to go there to obtain a visa to enter the country.

I had been told that I could go to the embassy, present my passport, a letter of invitation from IBM Nigeria and 18,000 shilling (16,000 for the visa and 2,000 for the expedite). I had been warned that it could take up to two hours to receive the document, so I was prepared with my patience cap on. Another piece of advice I was given by one of my Kenyan employees was, "to be all nice and yummy," when dealing with my Nigerian brethren. Yummy was her word not mine, but I thought, hell I can be 'all nice and yummy' for a couple of hours.

I arrived at the embassy bright and early and I was in a really good mood. I was first to arrive so I thought things were working in my favor. The first sign of trouble was when the visa office didn't open until 10am when I expected a 9am start. But, I was prepared with the tunes and games on my I-phone so I was okay...for the moment. A little after 10am an obscure window opens up next to the door that I was expecting to open for people looking for a visa. No one said, "first person in line," or "can I help you”…nothing!  After a few minutes another man comes up and says, “they are open,” pointing at the little window.   I didn't let this ruin my mood so I went to the first window and gave the young man my paperwork.

He asked me if I resided in Nairobi and I said no. I told him I was from the U.S. and that I would be returning to the States on the 29th, but he could read all of that in my passport.  However, since I was being 'nice and yummy,' I kindly provided him with the information with a smile. Now the next words out of his mouth threatened to disrupt our rhythm. He asked me why I didn’t get the visa while I was in the U.S.  I politely told him that I wasn't aware of the fact that I would need to attend business meetings in Nigeria during this trip to Africa. He told me he would have to check with someone in the office and asked me to have a seat.

After I waited for nearly 40 minutes while he waited on other people, he proceeded to tell me that I needed to go back to the U.S. to get a visa from the embassy there because I wasn't a Kenyan citizen. Now, my 'nice and yummy' was quickly becoming 'mean and nasty.' I explained to him, in the most professional voice I could muster up at that point, that my colleague from India was able to come to this same office and obtain a visa for the same trip to Nigeria. He said to me, "well, Nigeria has different relationships with different countries." I said to him in such a 'how dare you' voice that even I was surprised, "Are you telling me that Nigeria doesn't have a good relationship with the U.S?" Nerve!  All was lost at this point...'nice and yummy' went out the window and my Nigerian brother was tired of my holier than thou, I'm a U.S. citizen attitude. He told me there was nothing that he could do for me.

Now my blind rage wouldn't allow me to acknowledge the fact that a little ‘extra encouragement’ could have changed the course of things for me. I didn't even want to go to Nigeria at this point so I damn sure wasn't going to slip him anything extra to make this happen. I would find out later that this was clearly a rookie mistake. I turned on my heels and marched back towards the door in a huff. I didn't care that almost half of my Africa team resides in Nigeria at that point. As far as I was concerned, I would never see them if it meant giving this little man extra money. I took my outraged ass back to the IBM office down the road from the embassy to relay my story.

As I was telling my story to my colleagues in my best, 'I've been wronged' tone, they all looked at me as if they recognized my rookie mistake. Master Pu gave me the, 'you will learn' speech and everyone shared stories of their first bribe incident. I was still not comforted and I'm not sure why, because I had been warned long before I arrived in Africa. I think I was upset because I had been, 'all nice and yummy!' See, I could have been mean and nasty, rolled my eyes and given him extra cash and he could have taken my money, sucked his teeth and given me my visa. We would have both been satisfied with our 'screw you' attitudes, but no. This cloud of deception left us both dissatisfied.

I was resigned to the fact that I wouldn't be going to Nigeria that Monday and Master Pu was willing to give me a pass. We were already planning how I would get the visa during my next trip to the U.S. Little did I know, my Indian counterpart had other plans. He was convinced that he would be able to get my Nigerian visa in time for the 7:30am flight on Monday...it was Thursday afternoon already and the embassy closed at 12:30pm.

He didn't want to go to Nigeria without me. You see, Lagos has a reputation that is worse than that of the wild, Wild West. I was instructed that my first trip to Nigeria could not be solo under any circumstance. So, we had our own little posse planning to travel first thing Monday morning and I was messing up their plans. LOL. We were all willing to let my Indian counterpart try to close the deal. The plan was that he would return to the embassy with me the next day and work his magic. I was not only skeptical; I didn't want to go to Nigeria anymore. So, I would be a less than enthusiastic participant.

The next day, Friday, was D-day. My ticket to Nigeria had been booked and hotel accommodations set. My Indian colleague was waiting for me when I got to the office. At 10am we headed over to the embassy. There was a small number of people ahead of us and the same guy at the window. Ugh. My Indian colleague was undeterred. As soon as our turn came, my colleague went to work on this poor unsuspecting soul. I stood by with my arms folded, still seething from the day before...still not quite sure why, but I wanted to smack the man.  

I was amazed at how skillful my colleague was in his handling of my nemesis.  He wouldn’t take no for an answer.  The tyrant behind the desk realized he was out of his league and had us go into the embassy lobby and wait for the real man in charge.  After sitting for what seemed like an eternity, my Indian counterpart started to lose his ‘nice and yummy’ disposition too.  I could only smile when he said, “we will give it five more minutes and then we will leave.” After he said that for the third time I started to gather my things and start planning for the weekend.  Just as we were about to throw in the towel, a rather short man in the brightest orange outfit I had ever seen, walked into the lobby.  My colleague approached him directly and started to plead my case.  My bad attitude wouldn’t allow me to walk over to where they were standing. 

Finally I was called over to the conversation.  The man questioned me about why I didn’t get a visa while in the U.S.  Why couldn’t these people grasp the concept that some business meetings come up unexpectedly.  As I was about to roll my eyes, my colleague quickly jumped in to explain the situation further adding, “Is there anything we can do to make this happen?” The man begrudgingly agreed after giving me a mild lecture that went in one ear and out the other.  He walked us back to the little tyrant at the window and spoke to him in Swahili.  The man told us it would cost 23,000 shilling!!! A full 5,000 shilling above normal.  I was disgusted!!  My Indian colleague thanked the little minion behind the desk profusely.  When he looked at me, I rolled my eyes and headed for the door.  My colleague was pretty satisfied with himself and I was pissed cause I was heading to Nigeria…WTF.

Stay tuned for part 2 of this journey.  This ordeal doesn’t touch the surface of what I encountered in Lagos. 

Della Rochelle

Copyright © 2011 by Della Rochelle Williams

Well, Welcome to Africa

Welcome to Africa

Habari,

I’ve been back in Nairobi for two and a half weeks now.  Things have been a little slow on the startup at work, but now I feel like I’m drinking from a fire hose.  Up until last Thursday, I was without a computer…at least not an IBM-issued one.  I was dumbfounded at how long it took to get a computer and I only got this one because I ambushed a person leaving IBM.  If I hadn’t forced the issue, I could have been waiting for 6 to 8 weeks for a machine.  Seriously?  When I expressed my disbelief in the length of time it took to get a computer, people just looked at me and said, “Welcome to Africa.”

Once I was able to log into my machine, I was dismayed by the fact that people started sending me email weeks ago. Ugh.  Needless to say, I’ve spent a good portion of my weekend getting caught up on mail.  On top of that, Master Pu decided to call a Saturday meeting.  I’m not talking about an hour or two long; it was a full 7.5 hours…on a Saturday!!  Coming from the slow pace of Tyco, this will take a bit of time to get use to.  The funny part is, this appears to be a normal practice of my fearless leader.  As a matter of fact, we have another meeting scheduled for next Saturday and I’m told that this one will probably go long. What? LOL.

Commuting to and from work is an adventure all on its own.  Whether it‘s Monday morning or Saturday afternoon, there is always traffic.  And, you get to see the most interesting things while sitting in traffic.  In addition to my friends the Marabou Storks that I mentioned in, “The Journey Begins Part 3: The First 24,” I’ve witnessed ‘live chickens’ strapped to the top of a public bus, called a City Hoppa.  Yes, you heard me correctly.  We were coming from work last Friday and we passed a public bus with a ton of chickens tied to the top of the bus. 

I was in a taxi with four men from Ireland, Australia, South Africa and the US.  We were all amazed at the sight of these chickens on top of a public bus.  Our driver, who is Kenyan, couldn’t understand our amazement.  As far as he was concerned, it was the most cost effective way to transport chickens to the slaughter house.  He was dead serious.  LMAO.  One of the guys in the taxi tried to take a picture, but it was a blur because of the speed of the taxi and the flurry of feathers.  LOL, I’m not making that up.

Earlier in the week, my driver and I came up on a public bus that had been turned over on its side.  WTH?  Let me remind you that there is ALWAYS traffic.  All I could think was, how fast could he have been going to turn the bus over?  Traffic was backed up for miles in all directions and there was a Land Rover with cables hooked up to the bus trying to stand it up.  There was a crowd of people standing on the sidewalk near the bus as if they use to be the passengers.  Crazy! 

The strange thing was, there was no ambulance.  It was like the people were waiting for the bus to stand up so they could continue their commute home.  LOL.  Guess what experience I DON’T need to have before going home…riding a public bus.  The entire bus system here can be summed up as semi-controlled chaos, but it works for the people of Nairobi.  I witnessed a guy getting off the bus while it was turning a corner.  I guess it’s not necessary to come to a complete stop here.  Imagine how much time we could save if we just slowed down to let people off the bus instead of stopping.  Think about it people. J Welcome to Africa.

Last weekend…not the weekend I spent locked away in a boardroom, Master Pu took me to the best mall in Nairobi…there’s really only two that qualify.  It was the West Gate Mall (http://www.westgate.co.ke/).  I felt more at home instantly.  They have a department store called, Nakumatt.  Okay, you can buy anything from a loaf of bread, to a washing machine, to a bed.  I liked this store immediately.  It reminded me of a Super Wal-Mart.  Their slogan is, “You need it, we got it.” Catchy, right?  I was able to get groceries, toiletries and face towels (there are none in my apartment).  Master Pu even contemplated getting a machete to protect his home.  Yes, they sell machetes!!  I discouraged him from getting the blade by pointing out the fact that he may cut his own damn hand off.  He agreed. LOL.

Needless to say, I believe I can make the adjustment to Nairobi without a problem.  I got to see a beautiful neighborhood where Master Pu and his family live.  It gave me hope.  You can see from the picture that it looks like a really nice neighborhood in the States.  I’m hoping that when my work permits come through and I’m able to secure my permanent residence, that I’ll be able to find something equally as nice.  Let’s keep our fingers crossed.  Well folks, that’s it for me for this week.  Tune in next week when I talk about the issue with Kenyan mattresses.  SMH.  Welcome to Africa…Nairobi to be exact.

Don’t forget to sign on as a follower.

Della Rochelle

Copyright © 2011 by Della Rochelle Williams

Returning to Home... Away from Home?

Harabi?

I’ve completed my return to Nairobi and as expected, getting here was quite the adventure.  But, let me start this story with the remainder of my time spent at home.  Last week I blogged about the unfortunate sale of my beloved Inga, but what I didn’t mention was that my return to Nairobi was delayed because I contracted a serious sinus infection.  I felt myself getting sick during my departure from Nairobi.  As soon as I started to feel ill, I was panicked by the memory of washing my face in Nairobi and having water accidentally go up my nose.  I thought the cooties got me!! LOL. 

I know it sounds silly, but I was convinced I’d contaminated myself when the water invaded my nasal cavity.  Paranoia took over as my health rapidly declined.  Whenever I sneezed, I thought the left side of my brain would fall off.  I knew then it was time to get to my doctor’s office for some good old fashion drugs.  My doctor was disappointed that my immune system caved at the first encounter with a few foreign germs.  LOL.  I was not amused by her humor.  In the end I recovered enough to get back on a plane to Nairobi four days late.

On the day of my departure, I felt like God was guiding my steps.  There were so many obstacles in the way of me getting to the airport on time, but they were all cleared.  First I left the envelope filled with the money I got out of the bank on my dining room table.  I didn’t realize it until I’d already entered the New Jersey Turnpike.  I only had $3 to my name and that wouldn’t be enough to get off at the Newark Airport exit.  I decided I would go to a rest stop closer to my exit to withdraw money…big mistake.  The PNC ATMs were down at the two remaining rest stops before my exit (Tanya I need to speak you about this as an executive of PNC).  I finally gave up and decided to take my chances at the toll booth.  What was the worst they could do, right? 

Much to my surprise, the sista at the window took my 3 dollars and let me go!  Thank God, because I was pushing my luck, from a time perspective, getting to the airport.  I still had to return the rental car.  I had two large suitcases, a backpack and my purse.  You all know how heavy my purses can get.  I was wondering how the hell I was going to get all of that on the Hertz rental bus, when the team lead of the Hertz crew, Brian, offered to have one of his people drive me to the terminal in the car I had rented. 

OMG, I wanted to kiss him…and don’t think he didn’t want me too either.  LOL.  He said he, “just wanted to help a sista out,”while grinning from ear to ear.  His words, not mine.  I was thrilled!! Then it hit me that I didn’t have any money in my pocket.  I wouldn’t be able to give Brian and the guy who took me to the terminal, lifting my heavy bags, a tip.  I hope Brian will help another sista out in the future despite my shortcomings.  LOL.  I did promise that I would go online and submit a favorable survey with his name attached.  I’m not sure that had the same impact as an appropriate tip J.  Needless to say I made it to my flight with time to stop at the airport bar….it was going to be a long flight so I needed some liquid encouragement.

When I arrived in Nairobi some 20.5 hours later, I was met by three major flights from Paris, London and Brussels.  The airport was packed at 10pm on a Thursday night.  Now, Jomo Kenyatta International is not a very large airport and its employees have a less than speedy sense of urgency.   I saw some people paying the employees to help them get through the lines quicker.  After my long trip, I was not in the mood for game.  So, I put my hood rat cap on and moved to the line for Kenya Residence Only.  I learned this trick from Master Pu when departing Kenya. 

As you can see, I have my hair braided now so I was somewhat believable.  I moved through the line without a problem.  The agent didn’t care who came through the line.  It was all still work for her.  Let me just say customer service with attitude is a worldwide phenomenon…there’s no monopoly in the States.  The next hurdle was getting my luggage.  Now there was no hookup here to ease my burden with the bags, unless I was willing to grease someone’s palm and I wasn’t feeling generous at the moment.  My second bag took so long to come out after the first one that I thought they lost it.  Once I obtained my bags, I went out to find my driver who was nowhere to be found. 

You see, I was told to look for a person in a green shirt from Europcar with a sign bearing my name.  There were guys in green shirts from Europcar all over the place with every name but mine.  I immediately called Master Pu who found humor in the situation.  He said, “They have a sing for you, it’s the one that says we have a car for everybody but you.” He thought he was hysterical.  I was not amused, but I couldn’t help but laugh.  The situation was quickly resolved with lots of apologies and his driver came to pick me up. 

Apartment Lobby

On the road exiting the airport, the driver slowed down and came to a stop.  I was wondering what the heck he was doing.  I was tired and just wanted to go to the apartment.  He pointed to the left side of the car and when I looked out, there were three Zebras on the side of the road.  I couldn’t even make that up.  Apparently this road is a frequent Zebra crossing.  Who knew?  My only concern was whether or not the more dangerous animals followed suit. 

As amusing as this adventure had been, I just wanted to get to my apartment.  I had no idea what to expect, but it had to be at least as good as the hotel.  It is a three bedroom, two bath apartment with a living room, dining room and kitchen.  When I entered the lobby of the apartment building I was encouraged.  As you can see from the picture to the right, it’s not bad at all.  

Apartment Entry

Then once I got up to the apartment and opened the door, all of my worries melted away.  This is a temporary apartment until my work papers come in, but I can do this for a month or two.  I think I’ve found my first home away from home people. 

Tune in next week when I’ll take you guys further into Nairobi.  You’ll be pleasantly surprised…I was.  And hey, don’t be afraid to leave a message.  This doesn’t have to be a one-way conversation!  As always, don’t forget to sign on as a follower…I won’t bite.

Della Rochelle

Copyright © 2011 by Della Rochelle Williams