The Curse of The Little Things
A couple of years ago, I visited Antigua, Guatemala. When you enter a country from the airport, you can always tell whether it is a rich country or not. You’d probably miss it a few times but the airport readily signposts the financial wealth or poverty of a country. Rich countries welcome you like they want to show you something. You have arrived ba? Fine. Welcome. Start out disembarking the plane, then through the jet bridge. That often times is where the similarity ends with poor countries.
Some rich countries take you several escalators if you choose not to use their massive lifts, then through one travellator after another — pretending to fast track your movement but actually asking you, how many unna get for unna country? Moderate your urges as they take you through a shopping experience that could pass for shopping at a modern mall. Some layer it up by making you travel through a tram where you then arrive to pick your luggage.
They want you to get lost in their show, many literally do. The airports are multilayered and expansive. If you are not used to seeing big airports, the jealous part of you starts to think maybe they are trying to show off. But would you consider Mike Adenuga owning private jets an attempt to show off? You wouldn’t if you are rational. It’s like the average person owning more than one phone or shoes.
Don’t be angry. Let’s go back to Antigua. On arrival, I could tell this was at best an upper middle income country. The airport was as you would find it in any African country committed to some tourism. That is not the point of the story though. What caught my attention was how clean the airport was. Clean, nothing was out of place. The sense of order was quiet yet called out to be heard. It smelled nice too. The next thing right after that was that the officer that was stamping me in took his time, even stepped away to speak to someone else. I could not be bothered. I was thinking, when you are done, you’ll return to me. A few questions and answers later, I was stamped in. At no time was there a request for a bribe, attempted or suggested. It was just a man doing his job. You gotta respect that. I did.
The Nigerian travelling experience has gotten better since 2013 when I wrote an article knocking everything that was the excuse for a traveling experience. You get to access free wifi on landing Abuja and Lagos these days. This gladdened my heart when a friend visiting Nigeria for the first time expressed joy at the access and its speed. There are fewer people asking to check your passport or boarding pass. 2013 versus 2023 traveling experience in Nigeria, whether for local or international flights have actually gotten better. In a country where acknowledging progress appears to be a crime, I am ready to do the time for these words. I lived through the times, I know and have a sense of appreciation for what has changed. Things are better. However, things are not better enough.
In the midst of CCTVs, we still have officials looking to hustle money out of visitors. This is more prevalent in Lagos than Abuja. With due recognition and respect to the officers in Lagos who insist on doing the right thing, the MMIA Lagos travel experience generally makes the Nnamdi Azikiwe International Airport Abuja experience look like Nigeria from the future. Given the chance, you’d choose the Abuja airport all the time. Same country, vastly different realities. This is not a reference on the availability of facilities, this is about the personalities on offer.
If you decide to use the rest rooms, chances are that there are cleaners there helping to ration toilet papers. Tissue paper? Toilet roll? Let us assume travelers waste these tissue papers, because that is the only reason rationing must have been deemed a solution. How much are tissue papers that they have to be rationed though? That should end immediately. Their job should only be to ensure availability not to monitor or supervise use. We may not be the richest country in the world but we certainly aren’t the poorest and I am certain we can still afford tissue papers.
There should no longer be a reason for power outages at the airport. At worst, arrival halls should have power back-ups that hold the power during power cuts and transitions. Again, this is not as much about money as it is about intention.
When I was done at the airport in Antigua, what informed me that I was in a country that works was not the presence of some iconic skyscrapers. I do not have any such memories of that beautiful volcanic city. The one thing I am unable to forget was the order at the traffic lights. It was as orderly and as synchronized as you would see it in any other country that works. I was aware that the reason I noticed that order was because I was coming from a city with a different kind of normal. In Abuja, traffic lights help to suggest to you whether to go, stay or proceed with caution. There is no way they aren’t a form of coded suggestion because Abuja drivers do not obey traffic lights. Abuja at times feels like a city that holds a strong promise, beauty and order but has lost its attempt at finding an identity along the way.
When you actually think about it, the difference is hardly about financial wealth or poverty, it is about the poverty of ideas and the absence of intentions. We cry about money all the time but think about it, how much does it cost to have more bins in our cities? How much does it cost to at least lit up the road that goes right into the Presidential Villa? I doubt hell is darker than Yakubu Gowon crescent at night. They have fire. We have electricity, what’s with the darkness?
