Memories of Niger (II)

Here is  Moussa  Djibo Birnin Konni, the driver, whom I will refer to as Moussa Djibo, as well as his son, together  with me, making  a total of three, all seated in the car for the journey to Agadez. We passed through quite a number of communities on the way to Agadez. The first of […]

Here is  Moussa  Djibo Birnin Konni, the driver, whom I will refer to as Moussa Djibo, as well as his son, together  with me, making  a total of three, all seated in the car for the journey to Agadez. We passed through quite a number of communities on the way to Agadez. The first of these was Cerasa  which has quite a number of tall hills, and lies just outside Konni. The driver mentioned that an annual festival holds there, and it is an occasion  where the people demonstrate their prowess in the magical arts.They kill a black cow,and  there are quite a number of magical performances put on at the event, he says. As we progressed we saw  mosques made of mud brick and unique architectural forms, which we witnessed in almost every community we passed through. A peculiar feature of these communities were the large traditional barns springing up everywhere which the people use to store grains. As usual, the people, both male and female, were all well turned out. Then the topography began to change. The hilly scenery soon began to give way to plain-like conditions. At every point Mallam Djibo tried to make some explanations about the community, or the environment, doing so in Hausa, while I tried to follow in my fair understanding of the language. At Tahoua  which welcomes you with an impressive gate depicting  two friendly camels, we had a little break, and Mallam Djibo and his son said their prayers. I made a few calls to Nigeria, and informed Lawan Danjuma Adamu of Sunday Trust, about the progress  I had made so far. Throughout the trip nobody stopped us to ask ridiculous or abnormal questions. Nobody  stopped us to ask after a receipt issued decades ago.
Aching thighs & neck
Shortly after Tahoua the road began to degenerate, and it remained like this till we were on the borders of Agadez. The car would go into a pothole, and go back into another. Then we would enter another pothole, and drive out of it. This went on for some 200 kilometers, and  if we add the return trip, then it was some 400 kilometers of awfully  bad roads.

No wonder I returned to Nigeria with an aching left thigh and a neck which was throbbing. I treated these with lengthy hours of sleep. We also passed through Abalak, a rather sleepy town. There I spotted many,who looked like travellers sleeping in the open. Sometimes, I would fall asleep, then wake. Then fall asleep and wake again. Each time, it was to find Mallam Moussa Djibo, wide awake and driving, eating dates offered him by his son. He seemed to be telling  me that  dates were useful for night time driving. At a point, I think that was 3:00am I asked the driver to stop, so that I could stretch my body. He gladly obliged. The road was free of cars, as it had been for countless kilometres, and I stood within it, and tried to stretch a body that was slowly becoming numb. This did not stop the ache that was to come later. Then we progressed towards Agadez. The potholed road gave way to a purely dusty one, and this continued for many kilometres. At   a point  Djibo gave me a cloth to dust myself. As  the sky began to glow in the east, I noticed that we were 51 kilometers to Agadez, and I began to rejoice  deep inside. All of a sudden  there was a sudden increase in the number of  vehicles going in the opposite direction. There were plains all around us,and in a few places there were  stony elevations, but  these were not as high as the ones  we saw in the areas around Konni. It took a while before Agadez finally loomed ahead of us. The  driver explained that this was because there were  flat plains all around, making a destination seem much further than it really is. My sleepy head could not follow the  explanation,  hard as I tried.
Agadez, city of Tuaregs
At about 8:00am we drove into Agadez, and  found a Hotel, where I quickly paid for the room, and had a quick bath. I don’t remember eating. With  a sleepy head I now headed for Ingall, the community where the festival was holding. There was no time to waste. The  driver had fulfilled his part of the bargain. He  had driven me up to Agadez in record time, though  we had really been deprived of sleep all the way.

At the main junction to Ingall I parted with Mousa Djibo, and hired another vehicle to Ingall. It broke down all of a sudden. I began to fear that I was going to fail. Then another came along and bore me to Ingall. Early  that afternoon I arrived Ingall, just in time to cover the amazing  Geerewol dance. I witnessed  the dance with a weak dusty body, a tired mind, but  with a very alert and joyful spirit. Then there was the camel race too, done with a stunning array of  tall camels, and a number of cultural performances going on at the same time. I returned to the hotel that night and slept like a log. I was too weak to eat, and woke hungry at 3:00am. At a point I was wondering where I was. Then I suddenly remembered and laughed   quietly, and waited for dawn to break.
Enter Alli
By 8:00am I was up and wondering what next to do. It  was then I met Alli Ibrahim, who was simply Heaven sent. He not only turned out to be an excellent friend and guide, he played a role in ensuring that I returned to Nigeria with  nine stories, eight  more than I had been asked to cover. He is what we will call an Okada man in Nigeria, and he does  his work with dignity and friendliness.

Very soon he was taking me to all the Wuraraen Tarihi (places of history) in Agadez. These included the house Barth lived in when he visited in 1850; the woman who does Lalle; Turbans; a visit to the old city; palace of Sultan of Agadez; Gidan Sidika; and the grand mosque of Agadez. I am indeed grateful to him for many things.We worked as a a perfect team for many hours, and the work was helped by the fact that his family includes people who know a lot about the history and culture of Agadez. Thus, doors quickly opened wherever we went. Then we took a break and I treated him to lunch in his own city. He noted the paradox and we had a good laugh about this. By 2:00pm we were back  at work again. In the meantime he had found an interpreter who helped with the more complex areas of the discussion. That  first day we ended work at about 10:00pm, and I paid him handsomely for his efforts. Not a day above  twenty, he  has a  perfect sense of time and duty. He also embodies the best qualities of  his people, which includes a childlike friendliness.

One evening he took me to one whom he fondly calls the Teacher, and who also speaks both English and French. While drinking  cups of nice sweetened tea, which the Tuareg are famous for, Teacher took me into various aspects of the culture and history of Agadez, as we sat looking towards the Grand Mosque which  is  nearby. On the final morning in Agadez,   Alli Ibrahim was at my hotel by 4:00am to convey me to the motor park where I boarded the large bus heading to Konni.We  said our goodbyes there, and I took his picture there. I am sure we  will do many stories together in the future. By 3:00pm same day I was  back at Konni, and at about 4:30pm, I was at the Shukura Coral Hotel, Sokoto. A  gentleman was at the reception. I believe he was  paying for a room. Some of his money fell, and I picked these up and handed same to him. He turned out to be Abubakar Matazu, whose very good  advice helped me to get to Agadez, but  whom I could not link up with while  in the city.
Concluded.