The pains of traveling across West Africa

At Mile 2 Oke where vehicles going to West African countries abound, the conductors seem to tailor their call according to the number of passengers they see approaching. If the passengers are two, then it is “Two more seat left.” If they are three, then it is “Three more seats left”. I had planned a […]

At Mile 2 Oke where vehicles going to West African countries abound, the conductors seem to tailor their call according to the number of passengers they see approaching. If the passengers are two, then it is “Two more seat left.” If they are three, then it is “Three more seats left”.

I had planned a road trip that was to last for over 20 days, starting from Abuja to Ibadan, Abeokuta, Lagos through Benin Republic, Togo and to end in Ghana. The initial leg of the journey, which involved going through states in Nigeria, was generally uneventful, as there was no border post to cross within Nigeria and there was no language barrier as you could easily get someone who understands English language, the Nigeria lingua franca.

The real pains start when you have to cross a border in a foreign country, where the border post is not well organised and where language and currency barrier exist. Here, you can’t easily make use of your phone to browse or make calls because your network provider fails to meet up with the roaming data availability across countries advertised.

From old Ojo road via Badagry express way up to Seme border, one is most likely to notice two things: First of all being a Sunday, it shouldn’t be unusual to see people going or returning from church, the curious thing is that the number and frequency of white garments church members spotted crossing the road both ways will get you thinking if the Christians within these vicinities all attend the same church.

Secondly, you will continually spot buses with the inscription “Aluta Jet” or “Student Union Govt”. At first thought you might wonder if there was a student rally at the Seme Border, but after passing several of these buses and getting a good look of the passengers who you will discover don’t look ‘Alutaish’ you changed your initial perception. It is most likely that the SUG is into transport business. Which of the schools’ SUG own the buses? That was not clear.

The road to Seme is generally good. The hustle is to get out of Lagos traffic. But that is not all, as you will encounter several checkpoints manned by security agents with familiar and unfamiliar uniforms.

Seme Border is a settlement in Nigeria that borders Benin and is, perhaps, the busiest border in Southwestern Nigeria, which makes it a beehive of activities.

When you alight at the park or the filling station that doubles as a stop, you will be accosted by several persons trying to sell you a product or services ranging from handbags, clothing items to SIM cards. There are also food vendors, currency changers and even those who make a living from taking you across the border. This last group is the more aggressive, as its members go for the car trunk to lay claim to your luggage even before you alight. Curiously, despite being accosted by all these people, getting directions from them is actually difficult as those who are in the business of ‘border crossing’ are not willingly to part with such information without paying for their services. This was actually a dilemma, as the border post is poorly organized, without proper vehicle routing and inspection stations.

Motorcyclists play a major part at the border here. As if with one, accord almost everyone seeking entrance into Benin walks towards them.

This motorcyclists collect the negotiated transport fare and another fee allegedly used for bribing the security personnel manning the ‘small border road’ which is just another name for the back roads, bushes and alley way used. This back roads are manned by a few security men, supported by men in mostly old dirty mufti who used drums and sticks to barricade the road at three points and collect a token, from pedestrian, cyclists and vehicles.

A lady speaking in a language I didn’t understand, who I later found out to be from Togo, made frantic efforts to communicate with me while pointing at my bag.

The words I could make out were ‘passports’ and ‘ID’. I nodded assuming what she meant was that I needed my identifications. I later got to know she meant “I should not attempt using my documents to cross”. This was after I had been detained for over two hours. Armed with my international passport and several identification cards, I headed in the general directions most people were going and after walking for several minutes I approached what appeared to be a border checkpoint. The post was manned by a gun carrying security man and several men in plain clothes, holding sticks.

I gave them my passport and told them I needed directions as to how and where I was supposed to go as there were no signs.

Several things happened simultaneously, other people about to pass stopped to stare at me in amazement as it later became obvious to me that it was a rookie move to attempt crossing with your documents unless you are from a country that requires a visa, The security man who was about to eat his lunch jumped up from the wooden bench he was sitting with a triumphant grin on his face, demanding for the passport and speaking in French, while judiciously making use of the words “passport” and “Nigeria” A bus driver who was trying to negotiate the amount demanded from him was shaking his head and making signs which I translated to mean not to give them my passport which was already too late.

They told me my passport was not stamped by any border officials. All my attempts to explain to them that I was there to ask for directions to where I can get the passport stamped fell on deaf ears.

I sat on the bench adjacent to that of the security man who asked for an amount that was about eight thousand times what was collected from others. When I refused to pay he asked to search my bag and the first thing he did was to pick out my wallets and count the cash that was inside.

I was asked to remove my shoe, turn my jean pocket inside out, open my bag, every single item was separated and pockets checked.

When more money didn’t turn out, he reduced the demand to about 5000 times the illegal amount, insisting that it must be paid in naira and not Cefa. I sat on the bench for over two hours, while ironically those who didn’t tender any documents were allowed to pass without so much as a glance, provided they stretched out their hands to pay.

I was allowed to go only after a driver with a Nigerian plate number, who I explained my predicament to, spoke to them in French.

Driving around Cotonou, you will notice that most of the houses have decking for roof and it is used for soiree or to relax as explained by my tour guide, Hussaini, who is from Niger Republic, but had lived in Lagos for over 10 years. The houses are decorated with flowers and you could spot lounging chairs on some. Then I also noticed Nigerian-like houses like the types you see in estates. Those houses, according to Hussaini, belonged to Nigerians.

Hussaini also explained that Nigerians come to Cotonou at the weekend to party as one could spot several vehicles with Nigerian plate numbers.

Another common sight is that you will see motorcycles parked in hundreds around big buildings. I was told they belong to staff and customers in such buildings. In fact they use motorcycle so much as means of transport (private and commercial) to the extent that they have parks and pay parking ticket.

It was actually baffling that Cotonou that supplies Nigeria with vehicles in hundreds daily did not have plenty cars on the street neither was there ‘Go slow’ and they don’t drive in a frenzy either.

For a country where they don’t speak English they play a lot of Nigerian Music which you can hear from car stereos, at the beach, restaurants, people’s phone- You hear it everywhere to the extent you might think you are still in Nigeria.

Unlike in Nigeria, the men both young and old seem to favour the Ankara than western attire when compared to their women.

I was supposed to head for Porto Novo but changed my mind at the last minute for Ouidah. The road that leads to Ouidah is still the same one that will take you to Togo and Ghana. On my way I did a quick detour to Musee International Avimadjessi. The Museum happened to be about artefacts from different parts of the world. It was basically an art collector’s hobby with over 30 years of collection turned into a museum.

For instance, if a shelf is titled water god, it will have different water gods from different countries and so on.

Mr. Dennis the owner and curator of the museum said he has been collecting for over 30 years.

He started and got interested while working in diplomatic missions in different countries.

On getting to Ouidah you are greeted with this magnificent gate post that can rival the ‘Welcome to Abuja’ city gate, if you are approaching from the airport. If you judge the town by the gate then you are bound to come up short.

The next border crossing was Hilla Condji Frontiere. This borders Benin Republic and Togo.

It was still difficult to travel with papers than without. This border was a little more organised and relatively cleaner than Seme.

Passengers were expected to alight and walk on foot to the other side in a single file. You are asked to show your Togolese identity card.

If you don’t have it or any other country’s identification you will be asked to pay a certain amount.

Those that presented their documents or couldn’t respond in French are automatically asked to step into a room where searches and interrogation are conducted.

Crossing to the other side, you will be assaulted with vendors of all kinds of food, from snacks, clothing items to currencies. Even though Nigeria does not share a border with Togo you can still make transaction with naira at the border.

Lome the capital of Togo appears to look like a one track but organized town. The town seems to be at the right hand side of the road while the left hand is bordered by palm fringed beaches. The beaches are visible for more than half of the town just by standing on the road. In Lome, beach view comes a dime a dozen. Like Cotonou it is also a port town and generally has a fish like smell. You will spot tiny silver crayfish sized fishes being sunned by the roadside.

The Grande Le Marché loosely translates to big or main market is not really big when compared to Nigerian markets but you will marvel at the orderliness. Every seller and business was inside the very high fence of the market.

The next border crossing was Aflao. Aflao is the border town between Togo and Ghana. The Aflao border is surprisingly close to Lome as it cost less than the amount you will need to purchase a can of soft drink from the central market Le Grande Marche to get to the border.

In fact there are taxis in town that get there or you can simply get to the market and board a vehicle going to the border.

Aflao border is a multicurrency border as you can buy goods and services in Ghana Cedi, US dollars, West African Franc(CFA) and Nigerian Naira.

You also have to respect the people trading around the border and bus parks of luxurious buses as they can convert between currencies in a heartbeat.

Now crossing Aflao border is an encore of the previous borders I had crossed. There is the main border and the small border which is actually the not-so-legal border.

For those using the small border they have to walk through the beach sand – because it is flanked by a beach – and settle several security people.

One of the passengers in the taxi going to Accra explained to me that at Alao small border there are three check points with each having a fixed amount. The female passenger also explained that those from Nigeria are charged higher as they view them as coming from a wealthy country.

From Aflao to Accra is less than 3 hours by bus or taxi. And there are several checkpoints on the road just like along the Nigeria-Badagry express way.

After my stay in Accra, in order to avoid going through the initial stress of border crossing, I went to an organised transport service that have luxurious buses plying the West African routes to get a direct passage to Lagos and they demanded an extra fee for passport stamping. When I finally got my passport in Lagos it was still not stamped.

Google map estimated the journey from Accra to Lagos to be about eight to 10 hours. This happened to be a gross underestimation as the journey lasted for 23 hours.