Europe by land (1)

If you were alive to the harsh economic situation in the late 1980s, you will not blame Andrew, the television famed personality, for wanting to ‘check-out’ of the country. Then, Andrew was tired of the situation and had the means to fly himself out of the country to United Kingdom or United States of America.

But my situation in the early 90s was far worse than Andrew’s. The only thing we had in common was the want to ‘check-out.’ While Andrew could afford a flight, I had no money, no support but numerous challenges that gave me just one option – travelling across the dreaded Sahara Desert, with the hope of landing in Europe in pursuit of greener pasture.

Of course, the journey is between life and death, and the hardship along the unending expanse hot and wasteland of the desert is something you do not wish even your enemies.

But how did the thought of checking-out overwhelmed me, a then university undergraduate? Pardon me – top among the reasons was the mass exodus of young Nigerians, especially from Edo State and Benin City in particular, in the late 1980s and 90s.

However, the great unemployment in the land, which both government and economists thought was beyond solution. But a reason that kept glaring on my face, my family and even friends, was the evident of better life families of those who made it abroad, despite the risks. That was the compelling reason for even the most disciplined father in Benin City then.

Even the fact that one’s child or children are abroad became a status symbol thing in Benin City, then. Hence, families raise fund, some borrow, while others sell landed properties just to send a child abroad. But, unfortunately, my family was never moved and I was left alone to pursue my sole desire of going abroad.

But I had a very strong spirit that kept pushing me to take any risk to better my life. After all, after several years of attempting the university matriculation exams without any success, going abroad became the only logical way out.

Without support, no money and no adviser, I started off with my preparation to travel abroad in 1989. As I anticipated, it was not easy.

I was issued my first travelling passport on July 13, 1990, in Benin City. Through the church I attended then, I had a three-day interview with the US Embassy in Lagos. On August 30, 1990, I had my first shock and challenge – I was denied visa by the US Embassy. The reason, according to them, was that I could not convince them on my mission. But I did not give up going abroad, but started considering other options and countries.

In 1992, one of my friends, Robert Oshunwunsi left Nigeria through land border after several attempts to go abroad also. For months, I did not hear from him, but heard about the sufferings Nigerians going through the borders were passing through. I even thought he was dead.

On a cool morning of March 1993, when I was already in my third year in the university, I got a letter from Robert giving me a vivid description on how he travelled through the Sahara Desert and was presently in a city close to Tripoli in Libya, and was doing well. I told his parents not be worried any more about their son that he was doing well.

The letter rekindled my desire to go abroad. The ASUU strike that commenced April of that year became the final sign I needed to convince myself to go abroad, but by land. If others have succeeded, I will succeed also, I told myself.

The preparation

Only very few people were aware of my plans. Remember, the annulment of the June 12, 1993, election made ASUU to be more determined that the strike was going to be the mother of all strikes. From the description of my friend, Robert, I understood that N5,000 would be enough to take me to Europe through land. As I went about trying to raise fund, a family who so much believed in me told me to take one of their sons (Lucky) along with me. On my own, I was able to raise about N2,000 and $I. But the family magnanimously gave me N30,000 for their son and I.

A close family friend gave me a relation’s name and address in the UK, and told that relation of my plans to call him when I get to North Africa. With the money and contacts in my kitty, I set out with Lucky.

Setting off

On June 26, 1993, after General Ibrahim Babangida, the then head of states, had annulled the June 12 election, I set off with Lucky, as there was serious pressure from the international community against him and unprecedented confusion within the country. I saw all these as the right pointers to going out of the country.

We took a bus from Benin City to Kano, and got to Kano at mid-night. Not knowing where to sleep, an elderly woman who came into Kano with us took us to an Alhaji’s house, though we did not meet, but met other young men around who did not even care to ask us question. We slept there that night and set off early June 27, 1993, from Kano we crossed the Nigeria border to Zinde in Niger Republic at about 4pm. It was while we were passing the night in Zinde that I told myself that the journey has started. June 28, we met guides who showed us the way, and they took us to Agadez, where we passed a night also. Here, we changed our naira into more dollars and CFA franc, and hid the dollars very well, according to instruction. We bought some provisions and a 5-litre gallon for drinking water.

On June 29, they got more people going our way. Early morning June 30, we were all taken to Assamaka, the border post between Niger Republic and Algeria. We got there before 12 noon. From Assamaka, Arlit, the Algerian border post, is very visible.

Here, the border guards collected money from us to stamp our passports after searching us for drugs, which we later learnt was their routine.

We also met some Nigerians, both male and female, mostly from the present day South South and South East, who told us we were very fortunate because the vehicles taking us into Algeria arrived that morning, as some of them have been in that border post for three to four days.

About two hours later, we were introduced to the Arab drivers of the two Toyota Land cruiser (open back) and their conductors. I noticed the younger driver looking at me very keenly. He later called and asked me to sell my wristwatch to him, which I declined, because I needed it. It was a fine designer wristwatch my elder brother gave me. Probably, glaring cat trying to catch a rat within it, was what caught the interest of the tough-looking Arab driver.

With my decline to sell the only thing that reminds me of my family, my Nigerian brothers sensed that I had done was dangerous, that the Arab could kill to get that wristwatch. I became scared a little.

After paying the fare, the two Land cruisers took off at about 4pm, when the sun was still very hot.

Right from Niger Republic, water became the major source of food for everyone. It was from there we started experiencing constant dehydration. When buying provisions in Agadez, we bought a 5-litre gallon, and because we were two. To our surprise, we saw others with one each, even as big as 10 litres.

A twist

Going into Arlit, Algeria, from Assamako, Niger Republic will not be more than 20 minutes drive, because it is a straight road across the sandy Sahara Desert. But because we were illegal immigrants, the only thing the Arabs do was smuggling illegal immigrants through the mountains in the deserts.

This was the time the Algerian government enacted strict laws to curb the incessant influx of illegal immigrants, and its security services were all out to enforce it to the latter. In order to continue in business, the Arabs devised routes through the hills and mountains.

The two Toyota Land cruiser jeeps took off from Assamako with about 15 people in each, at about 4pm with the sun blazing overhead without mercy. The implication of this is that, you drink more water and eat less food. After about two hours drive through the sandy Sahara, the drivers stopped at a pool of water. Here, I saw water coming out of the ground like a broken tap had once been laid there. It was then the Bible passage that says, “The Lord made ways in the wilderness and rivers in the desert,” struck me. We all drank enough water from the clean pool and filled our containers.

As we were all refreshing, one of the conductors, whom I learnt was also a mechanic worked on one of the vehicles. After about an hour of rest, we set off again, but this time, I noticed one of the vehicles was no longer moving well. At about 7pm, the sun was still up, but without any intensity, and about 8pm, sudden darkness fell on us and we were forced to pass the night there.

That night, because I have read about how dangerous mountain snakes are, I did not leave the vehicle, although some of us slept on the bare mountain. As I slept, I had a dream – a man stood by me in the vehicle and told me that the journey we were on would become very dangerous, but we all would be saved at the end. When I woke up, the story of Paul the Apostle’s journey to Rome came to my mind, but I never forgot to tell others about the dream, and they all laughed me to scorn, calling me Pastor. That was how I became a pastor in the desert.

Osa Victor Obayagbona