15 Minutes From Africa

Abuja, Nigeria. People warned me before going to Abuja, that this was not a “fun” destination. That it doesn’t feel like Africa. Thankfully, since this was my 6th trip over to Africa and 13th African country to visit, I didn’t feel a real need to see the “real" Africa. I felt ok having low expectations. I immediately recognized why others are not excited about assignments in Abuja. It is unlike any other African city I have been in. To me, however, it is fascinating and the amount of fascination and curiosity I have felt since arriving here has far exceeded those original expectations of what my experience would be like.

Abuja became the capitol of Nigeria in the early 90s and was meticulously designed to be the government and business center of the country. The former capitol – Lagos – to me represents an authentic capitol city. It became the capitol because it was the natural location for the centralization of power. Most capitols naturally become what they are. Few cities are created from scratch in order to become the capitol. This newness and specific purpose of Abuja, I feel, is what makes it feel so unnatural and unauthentic.

Also unlike other African cities, the government seems to intentionally prohibit all things Africa from existing so that it can more adequately replicate a developed and modern capitol. Abuja has by far the best infrastructure I have seen in Africa with smoothly paved highways, traffic lights that actually work, well maintained parks, little garbage, an operating sewage system (as far as I can tell), and very modern and relatively well maintained buildings. Buildings are very spread out giving the city fresh air, green space, and making it extremely vehicle dependent. There are limited numbers of people walking on the streets because, logistically, it just isn’t feasible to get where you need to go by walking. The scarcity of people on foot is another characteristic that distinguishes the city from others on the continent (or anywhere else for that matter).

Abuja seems to do a good job replicating a developed/modern city. Of course, the only people who can afford to live in the city itself are expatriates and wealthy businessmen and politicians (which usually implies corruption). The Nigerian people who flood the city during the workday commute at least 45 minutes to get to their “villages” outside of the ring road that encircles Abuja proper.

Lack of the average Nigerian person, both living and working in Abuja city, adds to the oddity and often eerie and quiet feeling of the capitol. To me Abuja seems in absolutely no way to be a city representative of its people. Enormous mansions are going up on the hillside of Maitama (where my project office is located). These mansions are being built by politicians who have multiple multi million dollar homes throughout the country. There is a reason why Nigeria rates scores 2.2 out of 10 on the Corruption Perception Index (Transparency International), only .4 points different than Iraq. I have seen the material evidence of corruption elsewhere, but nowhere is it made more obvious than in Abuja where the poor majority are literally pushed out of the city limits so that the wealthy can live in their comfortable façade of a peaceful and stable country.

I was baffled my first day in Abuja when I went mountain biking and within less than ¼ of a mile I went from government “lodges” to a Fulani village. After that, a friend commented that anywhere you are in Abuja, you are “15 minutes from Africa”. It is true. 15 minutes in any direction you go, the façade that is Abuja lifts and you see where the average Nigerian lives.

A driver of one of our projects in Abuja, Segun, took me to his “village” last weekend. I put village in quotation marks, because to me that brings a picture of a community in a rural area. However, here people refer to their settlements right outside of Abuja proper as villages. It took less than 15 minutes to feel a bit more like I was in the “real” Africa, and 30 minutes after that I was in Segun’s home. There children ran to greet me and he and his family cooked a traditional meal of pounded yam and egusi soup. Segun sat me down in small living area with a couch and two chairs and immediately pulled out his photo album for me to look at. I could have been in Kibera, Khayelitsa, or Gulu. A quick drive later I was back in the Protea Asokoro hotel with 8 people waiting on me at all times.

Yesterday Musa drove me to the airport so that I could fly down to Lagos. I was again amazed at the abrupt transition from Abuja to…outside Abuja. There is a huge gate and a fancy roundabout that signifies the entrance/exit to the city. Immediately after passing through it there were huts on the side of the road. The transition is immediate…it’s amazing.

Because it is new, unnatural, and consciously strives not to be African, Abuja is not a desired destination for anyone wanting to feel the liveliness and culture of the continent. However, in my opinion, it is one of the most interesting places I have ever been and I would love to stay longer if only to understand how and why it exists and for whom. Intentionally un-African, Abuja is supposed to be the city which represents 140 million Nigerians. Few of the Nigerians can afford to live in the city, let alone commute all the way in for the few jobs available. Anything African that sprouts up on the empty land that fills Abuja, i.e. a typical vegetable stand or “hoteli” (small restaurant as people call it in Kenya), is almost immediately bulldozed. I went to a Bush Bar in Abuja with a few friends. It is literally an entrepreneur who has a portable grill and plastic tables and chairs that can easily be moved arranged into an outdoor restaurant. It is done like this so that when the government comes to get rid of it, as it is too African, the owner simply packs up the materials and moves to another uninhabited patch of land in the city.

A Capitol city that tries to be anything but reflective of the people and country it represents…the eeriness of the emptiness…the deserted streets at night after the vast majority have returned to their villages…the unnatural origin and growth…the blatantly obvious embezzlement of all of the country’s wealth…leaves me with an intrigued sense that there is…there must be…more boiling just beneath the surface than what many care to realize. I don’t think I’d be the only one to say that it feels quite possible that this place could be one of the next to erupt. No matter how the government tries, I do not see how it will be able to maintain its façade with the “real” Africa, with 140 million citizens full of culture and passion for change, a mere 15 minutes away.