TRAVELS IN NIGER--PART THREE

 Kwei--Wednesday

Making equine friends at the Agadez animal market (Photo: Kwei Quartey)

Getting oriented

On July 13, 2021, I left Nigeria, where the chaos at Lagos Airport had me worried I wouldn't get on the plane, Fortunately, I did, boarding an Asky Airlines flight packed to the rafters to Niamey, the capital of Niger, via Lomé, Compared to Lagos, Lomé's airport felt serene and well run.

During the flight to Niamey, I thought I might practice my rusty high-school French by striking up a conversation with one of my seat mates, who was from Niger. My tongue certainly needed some limbering up.

I landed late afternoon. Designed by Turkish company SUMMA, Niamey's new Diori Hamani Airport is only two years old. I snapped a pic as I emerged from the aircraft, but my ninja technique was imperfect and an official caught me red-handed and wagged her finger at me.

The new, glistening Niamey Intl Airport

Customs and immigration weren't a big deal, and a mysterious Nigerien official helped me whizz through without incident. I was going to give him a tip, but he had vanished as suddenly as he had appeared. I wonder who he was.

Coming out of the airport into the balmy dusk, I spotted my Niamey guide, Abba Djitteye, of Timbuktu Explore Traveler, waiting for me. He had taken care of my Niamey transport and accommodation arrangements. On the way to the hotel, I was looking around for all the danger I had been reading about on the Internet concerning Niger (see my previous blog), and was frankly stunned at what the reality was.

I spent only one night at the Niamey Noom, a lovely 5-star hotel, leaving for Agadez early the following morning. It wasn't a direct flight and made several stops to pick up passengers on the way. My Agadez guide, Ibrahim Alhassane, an enthusiastic young man with a bright smile and easy laugh, was there to meet me at Agadez's tiny airport. Within minutes of my arrival, I realized that cars were few and far between. How was I going to get to my hotel with my luggage? In one of these:

Tricycle taxi cab (Photo I. Alhassane)

Was there actually room for three adults and a suitcase? Yes, in Africa, all things are possible.

The hotel, Auberge Azel, was reportedly the best in Agadez, "where the American ambassador stays when he comes here," I was told. Auberge was no match for Noom, but this is something one must get used to while traveling in Africa: in small towns or cities, hotel accommodations may not rise to the standards of the large metropolises.

Ochre walls surrounding the Auberge Hotel compound (Photo: Kwei Quartey)

The material and color of the ochre is quite classic in Agadez and elsewhere in Niger. They are often starkly beautiful. After some confusion between the kitchen staff and me over the menu (I was trying to figure out which items were vegan), I retired to bed.

Beginning the research

The 2022 Emma Djan novel, LAST SEEN IN LAPAZ, will tackle the difficult and tragic phenomenon of West Africans trying to migrate to Europe as they flee from famine, drought, poverty and persecution. The migrants hail from Mali, Guinea, Sierra Leone, Burkina Faso, Benin, and Ghana, but the majority by far are Nigerians--male and female

West African migratory routes to Libya and Europe (modified Shutterstock map)

Reaching Agadez is the first stage of the migration. Then it's on to Libya by a perilous journey across the Sahara to Libya. The idea is to leave Libyan shores and get to Italy. Other routes include Morocco via the Strait of Gibraltar to Spain, or Algeria to Spain. The real outcome is often far from the goal: sometimes the migrants get stuck in North Africa for a year or more because they don't have enough money to proceed farther.

Ibrahim had arranged for me to talk to some migrants in Agadez. But before we got to that, he had to set me straight on one issue. No way would we be going around town in tricycle taxis--they were so slow, might as well ride a tortoise. I needed to join the majority who used the single most important mode of transportation in Agadez: the motorcycle. "Okay," I said sheepishly.

The charismatic Ibrahim (Photo: Kwei Quartey)

Like other men in Niger, Ibrahim wears a veil and headrest not for any religious reasons, but as protection from the sun, sand, and wind. I tried one of these veils but found it made me feel even hotter than I already was in the 100-degree weather. I was drinking gallons of water as I was sweating buckets. Ibrahim? Not even the faintest veneer of perspiration anywhere.

So, climbing onto the rear seat, off we went on his motorbike, which I must say was pretty nifty. Ibrahim dodged the potholes with ample dexterity as I got used to the sensation of being on a motorbike. The most important requirement is to trust the rider.

Talking to the migrants

Before meeting the contacts, we dropped in on a refugee camp run by the International Organization of Migration (IOM) in Agadez. At the time, the camp was empty, but the guard, who knew Ibrahim, let us look around. There wasn't much to it. The IOM has branches all over the world, and they concern themselves primarily with repatriating migrants.

Later on, Ibrahim took me to another part of town where I spoke to four male returnees from Libya: a Nigerian, Guinean, Beninese, and Gambian. They had all had different experiences, some more harrowing than others, but there were a few takeaways:

• The desert crossing is a desperately dangerous affair with threats of banditry (outlaws attacking and robbing the convoy of trucks); physical and sexual abuse by smugglers; severe dehydration and death.
• The convoluted web of agents, smugglers, "connection men," and madams, and who among these gets paid is confusing and riddled with inconsistencies, lies, and brutality. For example, a migrant soon discovers that the money they started out with is insufficient to make the whole journey. The only way to get that money is either to work as a prostitute, or in some more conventional setting (but finding work in places like Agadez is easier said than done).
• The very worst thing to happen to you is to be accosted or captured by the Libyan forces and then sent to a detention center, which, I can confidently say according to the accounts I heard, is hell on earth. The four young men I spoke to described unspeakable acts of cruelty and murder in their respective detention centers.

Their different accounts also raised questions about the IOM itself, some describing brutal treatment inflicted by IOM custodians as bad as that meted out by the Libyans. The Guinean man said he had no confidence the IOM could help him and because of the fear of being assaulted in the camp, he refused to stay. I've incorporated much of what I learned into my novel.

Ibrahim then took me to an area of the city where prostitutes commonly work. There was a slight misunderstanding when one of the young women thought I was there to avail myself of her services. Instead, we tried to talk to her and her two Nigerian companions about the story of their journey to Europe and how it had stalled, but in spite of the tip I gave them, they were not as forthcoming as I had hoped--certainly not as helpful as the young women I had met in Lagos.

Sheep, goats, cows, donkeys, and camels

I couldn't have claimed to have visited Agadez without going to the livestock market. Nigeriens are meat eaters. In this landlocked country, especially in Agadez and similar desert towns, fish is not popular. It's served primarily in restaurants and hotels that cater to expatriates. Therefore, beef, goat, and mutton are the usual accompaniments to the Nigerien staples of rice and millet. I understand that some Nigeriens also eat camel meat, but camels and donkeys are primarily sold as beasts of burden. (It's almost painful to watch a donkey placidly pulling an overloaded cart while already saddled with piles of merchandise on its back.)

It was at this market where I met my donkey friend above. I approached the camels, but one of them didn't seem to like me, and since I've had little to no experience with camels, I kept my distance.

Keeping a respectful distance from the camels (Photo: Kwei Quartey)

Into the desert

One morning, about halfway through my trip to Agadez, Ibrahim announced exuberantly, "Tomorrow, Inshallah, we go to desert, to Azel, my hometown. You meet my family."

"Oh, um, yah," I stammered. "Well, if you say so," while thinking, hold up--how far into the desert? Were we talking sand dunes and mirages?

So the next day, round about three o'clock in the afternoon when the sun was perishingly hot, Ibrahim came to the hotel to pick me up, having hired an SUV plus driver. As I approached said SUV, I realized this wasn't some vehicle out of a slick SUV commercial, this SUV looked more like the kind of ancient, battered but indestructible Land Rovers the British brought to the African bush. At the wheel was a young guy (everyone is young in Niger) whom Ibrahim introduced as Mohammed.

I got in, noting with some alarm that the four windows were down. "Uh, is there air-conditioning?"

"Air conditioner?" Mohammed said. "No air conditioner."

You've got to be kidding, I thought.

Now, we pause the video for reflection. At that point, I could go one of two ways: (1) positively assert myself and refuse to ride to the desert without a/c when the temperature was around a 100 degrees. Don't I deserve better than this?

(2) go with the flow and not be an obnoxious, entitled American.

I went with the flow. Mohammed had probably already been paid and getting the SUV may not have been that easy in a poor town with very few cars, and lastly, well, this was Agadez; I couldn't expect it to be Pasadena, California.

My hope that the air coming in through the SUV windows would help cool me down turned out to be the height of wishful thinking. The air was hot, dry, and stinging. Neither Ibrahim nor Mohammed had a drop of sweat on them as I was slowly suffocating in the back. Ibrahim looked back at me. "Oh," he said with concern, "you don't look happy at all."

"Maybe because it's about a thousand degrees in here. Celsius."

The terrain was rocky sand with hardy scrub. There wasn't actually a road. Mohamed just knew where we were going. Whenever a truck came in the opposite direction, everyone waved at each other.

The trip was about one hour. Ibrahim selected our campsite and then took me around the area, which I now realized was what we would call an oasis.

A dried (but not dead) river bed (Photo: Kwei Quartey)

During the rainy season, this becomes a mighty river.

A deep well for crop irrigation (Photo: Kwei Quartey)

Fine-looking squash (Photo: Kwei Quartey)

Ibrahim introduced me to his uncle, a farmer growing several crops, including dates.

When we got back to camp, Ibrahim lit a fire magically without matches, and began cooking dinner. Since he knew I was vegan, he had specially prepared a bean stew for me. I was famished, and it was excellent. Before eating though, we had mint tea.

Ibrahim then busied himself getting the campsite ready for the night. He had brought along a folding cot exclusively for me.

Splash of color in the tawny landscape (Photo: Kwei Quartey)

"Very nice," I said. "What about the tent?"

"Tent? No tent."

A night under the stars

Ibrahim had claimed that the desert turned very cold at night. I said, "I don't believe you."

    "You'll see," he said.

    I bet him 2000 CFA (about four USD) that I would not find the weather even remotely cold. On my deluxe cot, I lay awake and gazed at the legendary stars in the dark sky. There was zero ambient light. Complete darkness. I saw the Milky Way and my favorite constellation, Orion. Now, if only I could get some sleep.

Every so often, a breeze would stir, but it was hot and dry. It wasn't until about 2 AM that it cooled some. "So much for the cold night," I muttered. I managed to sleep for some four hours, waking before six. Ibrahim had shrouded himself in a sleeping cloth to shelter from the "cold" while I was shirtless and sweaty. He still owes me 2000 CFA.

We packed up and just as I thought we were about to leave, Ibrahim and Mohammed sat down on a picnic blanket.

"Aren't we leaving?" I asked.

"We're gong to have some tea," Ibrahim said, "and then we go."

"Tea?" I said. "No tea, no tea! There's no time for tea. Come on, chop-chop, we gotta leave right now before the weather gets too hot. And plus, I have work to do back at the hotel. Let's go!"

Ibrahim jumped up. "Yes, boss."

But Mohammed shot me a look that said in the Hausa equivalent, "Chill out, bro. Life isn't that serious."

The final night

Ibrahim made a big deal of taking me to a restaurant the last night I was in Agadez. Because Ibrahim knew the restaurant owner, he was going to personally shop for vegetables and then take them to the restaurant to be prepared as a fresh salad. I found the gesture very touching.

It was a marvelous salad. Besides mint, there was another flavor I could detect but not identify.

Early the next morning, Ibrahim took me to the airport and waited around with me for the flight to be called. I was glad he was there to smooth out any misunderstandings between the officers and me. It always helps to have a local with you. It's like a shield. I got on the flight, but later on, the plane developed engine trouble and never made it to Niamey. The answer to what actually happened comes in the next blog.

Ibrahim and me at the Auberge Hotel

Journey to Niger-Part One

 Wednesday--Kwei

How the West continues to tarnish an African nation

The basics

The Republic of Niger is named after the Niger River. Bordered by Benin, Burkina Faso, Nigeria, and Libya among others, the country has an area of 490,000 square miles. However, more than eighty percent of Niger's land area lies in the Sahara Desert (the largest in the world) thereby significantly dictating where Niger's population of some 25 million people settle and live.

The reason I decided I must travel to Niger, Agadez in particular, is that, as noted in another blog, my next novel, LAST SEEN IN LAPAZ, has as its backdrop the painful phenomenon of migration to Europe from sub-Saharan countries, especially Nigeria. Agadez is the well-known transit point from West African countries to Libya (and on to Europe). Therefore, I had to go there. Anyone can google. At a book club or book fair (virtual or otherwise), I wouldn't take much pride in saying I wrote the scenes in the novel by using an Internet search engine.

As it turns out, there was an even more important reason not to google the topic of Niger, because much of the information online is sweeping, irresponsible, inaccurate, and sometimes spiteful.

The smearing of a nation

Here are a few examples of what I read when I googled "Niger." (The bolding in the paragraphs below is mine, and I did it for a reason I'll explain later.)

1. Reconsider travel to Niger due to crime, terrorism, and kidnapping . . . Terrorist groups continue plotting kidnappings and possible attacks in Niger. Terrorists may attack with little or no warning, targeting foreign and local government facilities and areas frequented by Westerners . . .(US Department of State Advisory, travelsafe.gov)
2. Travel Safe-Abroad states: This is a politically unstable country, and lawlessness is ever-present . . .With its political turmoil and UN labeling it the major drug smuggling port, violent and petty crime on the streets, there are lots to think about when planning a trip to Niger . . . Pickpockets are somewhat active, especially in markets and places where rare tourists, if there are any, tend to go . . . Muggings and robberies are common and you should be extremely careful all the time in Niger . . . Niger* is not very safe to visit, due to political turmoil and crime on the streets. This website also writes: "Niger, also colloquially referred to as the Heart of Darkness is a landlocked country in Africa with a population of about 16 million."

In the first place, that is incorrect. Niger has never been "colloquially" known as "The Heart of Darkness." That phrase comes from the novel of the same name by Joseph Conrad, and refers not so much to the Congolese backdrop of the novel, but to the twisted souls of the exploitative Europeans at the center of the story.

Secondly, why would one even bring up this pejorative connotation in a description of Niger? Why paint this negative picture at the very beginning of the blog? What's the point? And when it comes to stupid appellations, which country in West Africa is ever as dark for as many hours as a Scandinavian country in the wintertime?

3. Do not travel to Niger due to:

• the high threat of kidnapping, terrorist attack, crime and the unpredictable security environment
• the health risks from the COVID-19 pandemic and the significant disruptions to global travel.

If you're in Niger, leave as soon as possible if it’s safe to do so. (Smart Traveller).

"Leave as soon as possible if it's safe to do so?" Are they being serious, or is that a joke from a bad standup routine?

The Smart Traveler, in all its smartness, provides this suitably red-zoned map on their website:

Note that the focus of my trip, Agadez, lies in the highly dangerous "red zone" of this supposedly informative map, courtesy the Aussies.

What I'd like to ask the authors of these dire warnings about Niger is this: Have you actually set foot in the place, or did you just copy what you read from the last website you googled?

My arrival in Niger

I traveled from Lagos, Nigeria to Niamey, the capital of Niger, via Lomé, Togo, on Asky Airlines, landing at Niamey's renovated and modernized Diori Hamani International Airport.

Diori Hamani International Airport (Image: Kwei Quartey)

Through customs, I began resurrecting my post-high-school French a little haltingly as my tongue learned to loosen up. Given my rusty French, one of the airport officials helped me through customs, baggage claim, and all the way to outside the terminal where my host was waiting for me.

At this point, having read the dire Internet warnings about this "politically unstable" and "lawless" country with terrorists, kidnappers and pickpockets, I was ready to duck flying bullets and fend off hordes of malicious attackers. Instead, all I saw were pleasant, smiling people greeting and welcoming their loved ones and loading up luggage--you know, kind of like a normal airport?

My host and guide, Abba Djitteye, of Timbuktu Explore Traveler, met me and rode with me in the rear of a car belonging to a friend. Once we leave the airport, I thought, the real, dangerous Niger will reveal itself. Thus, as we proceeded to my hotel, I was on the alert, looking around for armed, ragtag renegades wielding AK-47s and shooting randomly at people. Where were they? I wondered. They had to be somewhere. Maybe someone would stop our car to rob us?

Instead, what was all this civility I was witnessing? People riding around on their putt-putt scooters and motorcycles in the cool of the evening (very few cars), adorable yellow tricycle taxis zooming around at top speeds of 30 mph (if that), pedestrians strolling down the sidewalks--and always, people waving at each other with the greeting, salaam alaikum, which means peace be upon you. Wait, peace? That can't be right. This is a lawless country with crime on the streets, isn't it? It must be, because I read it on the Internet, and everything on the Internet is true. Right?

Iconic tricycle taxi in Agadez (Image: Ibrahim Alhassane)

Or maybe I was being actively kidnapped right now? Could they be moving me to some undisclosed location where I would be tied up, gagged, and held for ransom?

Well, it sure was a luxurious held-for-ransom place they pulled up to: Niamey's Noom Hotel. Check-in was smooth, quick, friendly, and effortless. I had booked a regular room but discovered I had been upgraded for free to a suite. 

Section of suite at Noom Hotel (Image: Kwei Quartey)

Bottom line? A beautiful hotel.

Trigger keywords

Look back at the above paragraphs where I bolded several words and phrases I call trigger keywords. They are designed to scare the living daylights out of people, particularly white people: words like kidnapping, muggings, robberies, terrorists, and crime on the streets. These words have a predictable psychological--perhaps even physical--reaction of fear and loathing.

Kidnapping: If you search "latest kidnapping news in Niger," Google asks if you meant to say Nigeria. Bing.com cites an occurrence of alleged "self-kidnapping" in Niger, for which the perpetrators were charged.

In October 2020, Reuters reported the kidnapping of US citizen Philip Walton from his Nigerien home in Massalata by gunmen. US Special Forces rescued Walton three days later. Massalata is close to the border with northern Nigeria, where the terrorist group Boko Haram, one of the largest Islamic militant groups in Africa, is active.

In July 2021, the US Department of State reported a kidnapping threat in Niger, but the language in the report is vague:

There is an unspecified kidnapping threat to Westerners in Diffa, Diffa Region, Niger targeting residences. We have no further information regarding the timing, target, specific location, or method of the alleged kidnapping plan.

Diffa, again, is close to the border with Nigeria.

In October 2020, Reuters also reported six foreign hostages held in Mali (two), Burkina Faso (two), and Niger (two). But these kidnappings are hardly an avalanche in the international context. In the world kidnapping ranking list below, search for Niger and let me know when and where you find it.

Another site, GlobalEconomy.com, places Belgium at the top of the kidnapping list in 2017, and lists New Zealand quite high up as well. Of course, no one warns you not to go to Belgium or New Zealand, because kidnapping in an African nation is always more of a moral outrage than it is in a western country, isn't it?

To label Niger as a whole as a "lawless" country on the basis of kidnappings you can count on the fingers of one hand and that occur largely at its borders with Nigeria, Burkina Faso, and Mali is unjustifiable and at the heart of it, racist. It robs Niger of its basic humanity and tars it with an image which is at best a gross exaggeration.

This portrayal was responsible not only for my preconception that I was about to enter a den of violence and evil in Niger where my very life would be threatened, but also the preconceived notions held by friends and family who expressed concern about my journey. I actually thought that I would need armed protection at every step of the way, but while that may be true of selected border areas of Niger, the same can't be said of Niamey, Agadez, and many other places I never got to see. A guide, yes, but not an armed escort. Guides are advisable in many countries around the world, in most cases to assist in language, safety, and direction. Niger is not unique in this regard.

Terrorism

The deadly attack that killed eight at the Kouré Giraffe Reserve is cited as an example of terrorism that occurred outside the conventional "red zone" in Niger, prompting the French government to declare the entire country of Niger a "red zone" (except Niamey, which remains "orange.")

Knowing now about this horrific event at Kouré, would I visit the giraffe sanctuary? Well, of course I would, no more or no less than I would the United States Capitol, the site of the deadly January 6, 2021 insurrection by swarms of vicious extremists foaming at the mouth. No more or no less than I would visit Norway, where Anders Brevik killed 77 people on 22 July, 2011.

Pickpocketing

Just to be sure the entire gamut of crimes from serious to petty is covered, websites imply that towns of Niger are ridden with pickpocketing thieves. Again, let's put this in the international context. Check any number of worst-pickpocket-locations lists in the world to see if you come up with Nigerien towns. Anecdotally, the only place my US passport was ever pickpocketed was Gothenburg, Sweden. Does that mean I avoid that city like the plague from now on? Of course not, and if I can't label the entire Sweden a nation of pickpockets, the same standard should apply to Niger.

I spent time in a couple of marketplaces in Agadez and in villages between Maradi and Niamey.

There were no hordes of pickpockets sidling up to me in the market, children or otherwise. Niger doesn't have a pickpocketing problem, it has a poverty problem.

The western media need to take a good look at themselves and desist from making glib, damaging generalizations about African peoples and nations. You use nuance to discuss the West, so how about a little nuance and common sense when discussing Africa?