Rainbolt Travel Diary

This is a tale of two blogs; many of you follow the links off to the side and read Bryan and Kara Slater’s adventures in Lagos. In Bryan’s latest posting, he gives an insiders view of the recent Nigerian elections. This will be an insiders view on Bryan’s view.

Thursday afternoon at a little after one in the afternoon we got word that Friday would be a national holiday. This really wasn’t much of a surprise because the government did the same thing last Friday before the gubernatorial elections. The reason for declaring a holiday is almost biblical: people need a day to get back to their hometowns to vote, much the way Mary and Joseph had to return to Bethlehem. A more cynical person would say the reason for the holiday is give all the members of the People’s Democratic Party (PDP) a chance to mark the ballots for everyone in their hometown. Along with the holiday, it was announced that Saturday would be a no movement day. People could get out and walk or drive to their polling place but otherwise you should stay off the streets. To enforce the rule Lagos State was bringing in an extra 10,000 police officers. With all this in mind all of us flat residents were settling in for a long weekend. The pool deck filled up early Friday morning, the tennis courts were in full use and life was good on a “Nigerian Snow Day”

For a certain flat resident, this idyllic calm was too overwhelming. “Right outside the gate history is in the making.” “ We could be watching the birth of a democracy. “ “Besides don’t you want to see what a city of over 14 million people looks like when there are no cars on the road?” This was Bryan’s reasoning for a little walk outside the compound. Now if I was sensible, I should have just said “no” and stayed by the pool, but to be honest I was curious to see if you could tell 14 million people to stay home.

So, I grabbed the camera and went and met Bryan in the courtyard. Joseph joined the adventure and we prepared to set off. As we left Tom said, “If you three idiots end up in jail, don’t come crying to me.” Not quite the words I wanted to hear and I began to contemplate escape options. As we walked through the garage I thought, “I could tell them the battery in my camera is dead and run back to the flat.” As we approached the back gate I thought, “I could tell them I forgot the memory card in my camera and run back to the flat.


At the back gate, we tried to convince the mopol officer with the big gun that it would be fun to walk around with us. He was pretty emphatic that he was not gone to leave his post to walk around with us oyibos. Once again, the thought of running entered my mind.

Now the street outside the compound is usually pretty busy. Lots of traffic, okodas, and quite a few souya stands. On Saturday…Nothing. Goats…yes. A few dogs…yes. Cars…no. People…the three of us.
We walked down the middle of the street amazed by the fact that you could tell 14 million people to stay home and they would. We took a few pictures of the deserted street. I took a picture of my favorite pile of dirt next to my favorite pothole that the pile of dirt might at one time have been piled there to fix. As we walked, Bryan used his Pidgin English skills on the few people out on the street. Now, my Pidgin skills are very limited but I’m sure the response was not, “Hello Gentlemen. How are you on this fine day.” I’m pretty sure it was, “Hey! Look at the stupid oyibos walking around on a no movement day.” I wondered if maybe it was time to run. Joseph asked a couple of the guys sitting in the shade where a polling station was and after a few hand gestures and headshakes, we headed off in the general direction. Now we are used to voting in churches, school auditoriums, and fire stations. The polling place we walked up to was under a tree, just off a courtyard. We could tell it was a polling place because of the posted signs, the 6 police officers with “election official” tags over their badges, and a large clear plastic box that said “ballot box.” We talked with the polling volunteers: found out that the voting had been quiet, got to see the ballots (you use your thumbprint to vote for the party of your choice), and were politely told that it was not allowed to take pictures. It was interesting to see the process that we had been hearing about every since we got here.

I was feeling fairly comfortable out and about now and eagerly agreed to walk down a few more blocks to the Lekki expressway to see what the busiest street on Victoria Island looked like on a no-movement day. The street was deserted. Joseph told us about several near death experiences he had had trying to cross the street to get to the gym. I got a picture of Bryan in the police booth and we headed back to the compound.
We decided to walk in front of 1004 and enter the front gate of the compound. This way we could see one more polling place.

As we walked down the street, I took a few pictures of the abandoned buildings that are part of the 1004 and I discreetly took a long-range picture of the ballot box from half a block away. I put the lens cap on the camera, turned it off and caught up with Bryan and Joseph.

When we got with in 15 feet of the polling place, which had a few more people around it than the first one, Joseph announced, “We are hear to vote.” Much laughter came from the two polling station volunteers and a lady who was there voting. No laughter from the group of men and women in black uniforms with the “election officer” tags. As we got closer, two of the officers got up and met us. Bryan asked in his conversational pidgin, “Any wahalas (problems) here today?” The second officer started to answer the question but then the first officer starts saying, “Why you take snap? You can’t take snap here!” I began to run through my pidgin vocabulary…what is snap? As the officer grabbed Bryan’s camera I figured out that “snap” is a picture and that he thought Bryan took a picture of the ballot box. No Bryan wouldn’t take a picture. In fact, I could hear Bryan say, “I didn’t take a picture.” The guard was very insistent that Bryan did and now all eight of the officers were off of their seat. I could see the front gate of AIS and mentally started to figure out if my limited endurance could take me that far on an all out sprint.

Now as Bryan tried to talk with the guy that had his camera the woman that was voting started to yell at police. “Don’t talk to them that way. They aren’t doing anything.” Oh, this isn’t going to be good I thought and sure enough all eight of the police officer started yelling at her for yelling at them. Bryan was still trying to talk to the guy with his camera. The yelling intensified, the woman was now yelling at the police for yelling at her. The police were yelling at her for yelling at them while they were doing their job. Ok..I thought..if any body else starts yelling, I’m running. The woman’s friend is now holding her back, the two polling workers are yelling at every one to calm down. Because there were 8 police officers, they could continue to yell at the woman and the guy with Bryan’s camera turned his attention back to us. “You can’t snap here it is wrong. You are trying to make Nigeria look bad.”

“No, we like Nigeria. We teach Nigerians.” There are no pictures. Just pictures from Kenya. Can I have my camera back?”

“No. No camera. I will call my boss. You will talk to him.”

Ok...before the boss shows up I am running. Then the lady yells, “Just leave the reporters alone.” Bryan and I yell, “We are not reporters! We are teachers.” A crowd is gathering. The yelling is still going on. There is no movement on the camera issue. Joseph is now standing beside me and he says, “ I’m going back and getting one of the guards.” I am thinking, “Wait, I will run back and get one the guards.” But Joseph is gone. I can’t leave Bryan here alone; he doesn’t want to leave without his camera. While he negotiates, I kinda listen but I am planning exit strategies. If four more people start yelling, I’m running. If another car pulls up, I’m running. If someone says reporter one more time I am running. If the two officers that have gone back to sit in the shade stand up again I am running. I have multiple exit strategies and there are all based on the fact that I don’t want to go to a Nigerian jail.

Bryan is in serious bartering mode now. “Keep memory card, I’ll take the camera.” Keep all the money in my pocket, I’ll take the camera.” He breaks off every once in awhile to ask, “Where is Joseph?” I want to tell Bryan that I will run back and find him, but instead I tell him he went for help.

The guy is unwilling to negoiate. He says we need to talk to his boss. Bryan asks if I have my cell phone, which I do and asks if we should call the embassy. The embassy is a long ways away. I’m thinking that it is time to run. There is still yelling there are more people and I still have my camera. Instead of that I listen when Bryan says, “Call Tom.”

“Hey Tom. We could use a little help here. We are at the front gate in front of 1004. The police have taken Bryan’s camera.”

Silence on the other end but I can still here the word, “Idiots.” “Ok,” Tom says, “I’m on my way.” I pass this news on to Bryan who asks where Joseph is. I can’t answer because now I’m trying to convince a cop that I didn’t snap and that I should get to keep my camera. Man, I should have run. I’m not sure what I said, but the guy believes me and lets go of the camera. I look back towards AIS and I can see Tom and one of the security guards. I look the other direction and here comes Joseph with the mopol guy. Ok, maybe I don’t need to run.

Tom shows up, schmoozes for 30 seconds with the election people, tells the officer that the camera belongs to the school and he can’t keep it, and still manages to give Bryan and I an “I told you so look.” The officer tries to take the film out of Bryan’s camera, which is hard to do with a digital camera. He gets frustrated, hands Bryan back the camera, and we start walking back to AIS. Tom tells us, “Hey, you could turn around and take a picture now and we could make a run for it.” This is what I have wanted to do for over an hour, but now I realize that of the four of us, I am by far the slowest of the bunch. Running doesn’t sound like a good plan now.

The 1004 Polling Station
This Saturday was another no movement day. We all stayed in the compound. I didn't think of running all day long.