Nigeria 1998 - Vultures and Rainstorms

A year earlier, we went south of Tunisia, to the tropical country of Nigeria. This time, my father was working there, in a village of Ikot Abasi, which lay in the region called Akwa Ibom. One part of the village was for the workers for Alscon (Aluminium Smelting Company Of Nigeria). The factory itself however, was situated several miles up the muddy, holey, cratered road.

All the vehicles were old, dirty with flaking paintwork and mostly Peugeots. The taxis weren’t cars or trucks, like we have here in Britain, but old, rickety motorcycles from the fifties; they were also used for family transport. Sitting on a one-seated motorcycle was a family of five or six, and I saw this more often than twice. The father was driving; behind him was his wife holding on; his two children sitting on the front mudguard; and the grandmother was hanging off the back. If there were such things as road taxes or road safety laws in Nigeria, I don’t think anyone would be driving.

What were very, very common in and around the village were lizards. These little things were crawling everywhere: on walls, roofs and roads. One time, I was lying in my bed, and though the windows were closed, as well as the door, I could hear little creatures scurrying over walls and the ceiling of my room. I switched the lamp on, and there was at least a dozen lizards running about. To this day, I don’t know how they got in, but I wasn’t scared at all. I knew they were harmless and non-venomous, and also I like reptiles! They also helped us; they were feeding on the dragonflies and other insects, which were proving a nuisance above my head, which often kept me awake.

One day, we were going to this river a few miles away from the village, the coach was going down this forest road, suddenly, this flock of big vultures flew out of a tree right in front of the coach and smacked its windscreen. When the vulture interacted with the coach, the force of its heavy body squeezed its head and neck behind, which might have instantly killed it. I am not sure if it left a good mark or two on the bus after it had been flung to the side into the bushes on the edge of the road, but possible made a few scratches or a small crack. But it made some noise, a bit like a hammer going through a car bonnet.

Later, when coming from the river, it began to belt down with some tropical rain. As the rain hit the windows of the coach, it sounded like we were driving into a war zone, and it was also a long time before reaching the village. And suddenly, half buried into the mud road, was a small truck with its trailer towering into the sky. But though there was a small group of police, there wasn’t any warning or diversions. There wasn’t even anything supporting the truck, it was free standing with a large crowd of people standing and gawping underneath it. It took a long time to pass it as the traffic was queuing up and the people were gathering. I just could not believe my eyes.