All those reports of Michael Jackson’s recent demise? Faked! The King of Pop is not dead, he’s now a King Cop in Abuja, Nigeria, directing traffic with the moves that made him famous. Doubt me? Then just watch this video:
So I am running along a random street in Lagos, when I see this poster put up to honor the Glorious Exit of Chief Ezekiel Ojo Alabi Farukan of Lagos Nigeria
Thinking its a beautiful way to honor death, I take a photo, and then I hear yelling. A Nigerian policeman is running at me screaming that I cannot take a photo and he needs to see my camera.
Yelling back, I tell him I am respecting the dead, and he should have more respect too. I then I show him what I am photographing, the poster. He demands to see my camera. Just before we were really going to get into it (I was not going to give up my camera) a woman got off a moped and jumped into the debate.Read More
What does it look like to land at Lagos, Nigeria’s Murtala Muhammed International Airport (LOS)? For those who wonder, I made the following movie while my flight approached and landed just for your enjoyment.
I’m always amazed at the view – those endless shanties that spread out into the horizon. That all that humanity can live so close together. Its not the vertical living of Hong Kong, but Nigeria doesn’t have Asia’s organization either. All those people you see while approaching Lagos International are scrounging for a living in the midst of African chaos.Read More
If you’re a runner, African can be a challenging place. There are few African joggers to be seen, as running is not really considered a sport to be practiced. Either you’re a good runner and so do it as part of a team, or you don’t run unless needing to for a specific purpose.
So I am often asked why I run across Africa. And looking at the obstacles in my path, you have to wonder how crazy I am. In Africa, any street that is paved, is usually high traffic, forcing me to run on the road shoulder. There I follow the well-trod path that others also take, being vigilant for the common leg-breaking hazards like these…Read More
Back at independence, Nigeria thought to move its capitol from the overcrowded, costal Lagos to a central location that would give planners a clean start and appease the major ethic groups in the country. From this desire, came the Federal Capital Territory which hosts Abuja, Nigeria’s new capital.
Like Washington, DC, much thought and planning went into making Abuja, FCT a model city. Because of this, and a few other factors, I’ve come to enjoy Abuja – one of my African favorites – while also recognizing that when there, I live the “Abuja Bubble” lifestyle.Read More
Howard whispered two words to me that got me excited. He said “grilled fish” and I responded with a quick “let’s go!” It doesn’t take much more than the temptation of fresh fish, grilled to tasty perfection, to get me going to the ends of Africa.
And getting to the Abacha Barracks in the Mogadishu Cantonment outside of Abuja did seem like a drive to the ends of Africa – or at least the taxi driver bitched the whole way like it was. Once there, I was a little confused. We pulled up to what looked like a simple Nigerian market. There was nothing to make it look different than any other market. But I was told to walk into the middle.
Inside the Abacha Barracks market is a whole other experience. About 50 fish sellers are arranged in a circle with bars facing the circle of fishmongers. These fishmongers do not sell raw fish for you to take home however, they sell the best croaker and butterfish for direct grilling and eating right there.Read More
Sitting here on this Nigerian flight from Lagos to Abuja, I’m surprised to be the only “white” guy on the jet plane. That the majority of passengers are black Africans is not surprising of course, but its the other ethnicity present that shocks – Chinese.
And I do not mean a Chinese here or there. I would say that about a third of the flight is Chinese – not Asian, not Japanese, not Thai, Cambodian or Indonesian. Not even “Overseas Chinese” from Singapore or Hong Kong, but full on mainland Chinese who very much look the part.
Chattering away in putonghua, with the mannerisms and dress of middling businessmen, they are an uninspiring lot at first glance. But by the second or third take, I start to wonder what they’re doing in deepest Africa.Read More
Oh My God – WHERE IS MY PHONE!!! This is the thought that races through my mind and sends a chill through my heart as I frankly search my person for my Nokia N95. I am standing over my seat, as I put away my luggage on Kenya Airways Flight 0533, from Lagos to Nairobi, and I’ve just realized my phone is missing.
Again I recheck my person and my luggage and then it hits me – I’ve left my phone in the airport waiting area. I was so absorbed in composing emails to all my Kenyan contacts, letting them know of my impeding arrival, that I didn’t hear the first call for my flight.
When I finally did, I scrambled to the jetway, leaving my prized possession, my per-diem-paid-for N95 superphone behind, alone and vulnerable on a random seat. Where I now realize it must be sitting, just waiting to be found by its new owner.