I'm Back!

I am now back in the saddle, having spent the past month in the UK, mainly to attend our daughter's wedding, which was a grest success -  a fabulous day from start to finish.

 Once back in Ilorin we were warmly greeted by colleagues and neighbours, which was such a consoling experience and helped us focus on our placement and not on what we have left behind. With much sadness we learned that our friend and colleague Julie would be returning to the USA the following day- for good, which kind of took the shine off things. We wish her well and hope our paths cross again somewhere.

So, we girded our loins and resumed work the next morning –  but not before being harangued by the owner of the bush meat restaurant who insisted on dashing us a bottle of Sprite as a welcome back gesture. We were invited to witness his staff pounding yam with much sweat and gusto (gusto being an essential cooking ingredient, like Bisto  but with more wind and flapping garment!)

We made our escape and arrived back in the office to more greetings. That evening we collapsed into our house, hoping to get a meal under way before darkness fell but found ourselves entertaining our upstairs neighbour and her three children well past their bedtime and probably hers.

The trials of life out here then truly hit home when we attempted to find ingredients, cook and eat them and then wash up by the light of a couple of candles.  A Big Mac  with all the trimmings seemed a long way off, and a 6 inch tuna and sweetcorn ‘Sub’,  on some far distant planet!

    Once back in Ilorin we were warmly greeted by colleagues and neighbours, which was such a consoling experience and helped us focus on our placement and not on what we have left behind. With much sadness we learned that our friend and colleague Julie would be returning to the USA the following day- for good, which kind of took the shine off things. We wish her well and hope our paths cross again somewhere.

So, we girded our loins and resumed work the next morning –  but not before being harangued by the owner of the bush meat restaurant who insisted on dashing us a bottle of Sprite as a welcome back gesture. We were invited to witness his staff pounding yam with much sweat and gusto (gusto being an essential cooking ingredient, like Bisto  but with more wind and flapping garment!)

We made our escape and arrived back in the office to more greetings. That evening we collapsed into our house, hoping to get a meal under way before darkness fell but found ourselves entertaining our upstairs neighbour and her three children well past their bedtime and probably hers.

The trials of life out here then truly hit home when we attempted to find ingredients, cook and eat them and then wash up by the light of a couple of candles.  A Big Mac  with all the trimmings seemed a long way off, and a 6 inch tuna and sweetcorn ‘Sub’,  on some far distant planet!

   The expected emotional turmoil accompanied us all the way back to Ilorin but our arrival was greeted with such warmth from friends, neighbours and colleagues - I think they were surprised to see us again after recent events.

We landed at Abuja airport just before the crack of dawn and emerged once it had well and truly cracked. As we had a 10 hour stop-over, ESSPIN paid for us to be put up in a hotel to enable us to catch a few zzzzzs. We arrived back in Ilorin in the early evening via the chaos and clamour of the domestic airport – not for the faint-hearted. The concept of ‘Smart-boarding’ doesn’t extend much beyond making sure you are on the right plane. A woman flight announcer with a shrill and barely comprehensible voice that must surely have damaged many an eardrum, raises the pitch each time she comes on,  clearly exasperated at the lack of consideration shown by the few remaining passengers who have not yet boarded and are delaying take-off - I would almost expect to see her at the gate waiting to beat and lecture them for their tardiness.

 Once back in Ilorin we were warmly greeted by colleagues and neighbours, which was such a consoling experience and helped us focus on our placement and not on what we have left behind. With much sadness we learned that our friend and colleague Julie would be returning to the USA the following day- for good, which kind of took the shine off things. We wish her well and hope our paths cross again somewhere.

So, we girded our loins and resumed work next morning –  not before being harangued by the owner of the bush meat restaurant who insisted on dashing us a bottle of Sprite as a welcome back gesture. We were invited to witness his staff pounding yam with much sweat and gusto (gusto being an essential cooking ingredient - like Bisto  but with more wind and flapping garment!)

We made our escape and arrived back in the office to more greetings. That evening we collapsed into our house, hoping to get a meal under way before darkness fell but found ourselves entertaining our upstairs neighbour and her three children well past their bedtime and probably hers.

The trials of life out here then truly hit home when we attempted to find ingredients, cook and eat them and then wash up by the light of a couple of candles.  A Big Mac  with all the trimmings seemed a long way off, and a 6 inch tuna and sweetcorn ‘Sub’,  on some far distant planet!

   One of our first jobs was to sweep up the carcasses of cockroaches that had been enjoying rent- and hassle free accommodation during our absence. There were enough of them to stock a Heston Blumenthal restaurant for weeks.

Odd thing about cockroaches - at least, the ones I find - we don't often see them alive - just dead or dying on the floor - usually when we return from work. Why is this, I wonder? Can our aerosol sprays been so efficacious after weeks away? And why are they always on their backs? Are they just crap at clinging onto ceilings?  Or is it something they ate - the remains of the candle-lit meal I cooked the night before - understandable!
Or are they suicide cockroaches, invading the premises of the business community and western educationalists in broad daylight, just to make a point and remind us they are still around? They never seem to have a recruitment problem but their fate is always the same - probably drugged up to the eyeballs!  Those that dare crawl out of their holes induce instant revulsion - even the thought of their scuttling and flitting menacingly about, most,I think, find repulsive. They take advantage of our structures to arrogantly try and impose themselves, while we wonder from which crack or orifice they will emerge next and which room they will target.
My advice is to ensure you are ever watchful and keep a broom and a spray can within reach!
Anyway, back to our return.
Our guards now have a shelter within the compound, which makes us feel better about their working conditions. There are also vigilante groups patrolling the neighbourhood from midnight onwards, following a spate of burglaries in the area - including ours. On the one hand it makes us feel we are in a bad area, but on the other it reassures us that miscreants are likely to be scared off by their presence. They certainly make themselves heard! For the past three nights they seem to have been out on a rota basis and in pairs at least - each pair has its own signature warning which is loudly announced to the neighbourhood throughout the early hours.  One group has referee whistles - I know Nigerians love their football but I am fairly sure there are no matches on at this time of night - the floodlighting is so poor for a start! Another group howl like wolves - they are not that good at it - you can tell they are not really wolves and any wolfaphobes would not be fooled! Others fire guns or  make scary noises you might have heard coming from aliens in an episode of Doctor Who. Either way, one's sleep is somewhat disturbed - almost to the point that you might as well get up and practise you house-breaking skills!