'He is free'

These words glowed against a neon background in the early morning hours last Wednesday and for the first time in days, my jaw relaxed.  I hadn’t even realized that I’d been clenching it, convinced as I was that I had yet to process the information that precipitated this text.  Let me fill you in.

The Thursday before last, my uncle was abducted in Nigeria. Honestly, I’m still not sure I’ve processed this information. Perhaps it’s the incredulity of the situation. A group of thugs took a 70 yr old man out of his house, stuffed him in a trunk and demanded a ransom of half a million dollars.  Half a million dollars, from a retired university professor, no less!  We were warned not to involve the police (who incidentally have a shoot-to-kill policy for those suspected of kidnapping).  And so began the phone calls - across Nigeria and across the world. 

Six days later I would receive the text from my mother, as celebrations began to welcome my uncle home.  The cost of his freedom in dollar terms was $14,000.  Who knows what price his health has suffered, having been forcibly confined, chained and bound and used as a human ashtray?

My first reaction was to tell my father that this event marked the end of his plans to retire in Nigeria.  Security has always been an issue traveling there; during our visit last year our family did not move around freely because of the threat of kidnapping.  Another of my uncles has described Nigeria as the “paradise of hell” and for the most part I think it’s an apt description (sorry dad).  Nevertheless, it is where I have family and I’ve a place where I will always plan to return.  Last week was the first time I began to doubt that.

 If you ask me what is the best thing about living in Canada, I’d tell you it is security.  For the most part you are free to move where and when you wish and you will arrive unharmed at your destination.  While you can certainly live like a king if you run a successful business in Nigeria, you will also have to hire police to travel alongside you and, as last week’s events demonstrate, even your home is not a safe haven.  So when I told my father ‘you are never moving there’ and he responded ‘it is not a bad place and it’s still uncommon to get kidnapped’ I was shocked.  At the time, his brother was still in captivity and yet he was defending the country!!!

It wasn’t until I started thinking about writing this entry that I got it.  I was going to call this piece ‘this is Africa’ and contrast the kidnapping with the work I am observing our project do all around East Africa.  But then I realized what happened to my uncle is not fair to mention even as part of a broad commentary.  In fact, even though my anger towards Nigeria is justified, it would also be unfair to title this entry ‘this is Nigeria’.  The acts of a handful of lazy cowards are not reflective of Nigeria, as chaotic and crazy as it may sometimes be. 

Moreover, even if I could concede that Nigeria warrants the label, I realized why my dad was reluctant to denounce it.  I’m in Nairobi for work this week and once again am in a big city with access to everything.  I can’t exactly describe the feeling but the closest approximation is ‘home’.  I’m sure I’ve written it before, in as much as I love to constant stimulation of the unknown, there is no place like it.  I can’t imagine what it would take to shake that.  So while I’m still not on board with my dad’s retirement plans, I can understand why he’s forgiven Nigeria.  Letting out a cheer as I passed the Nigerian Consulate in Nairobi this afternoon, I realized that I have too.