Nigeria
Damn, this is pissing me off. Before I get decried for being a racist, I’d like to make a few things clear. I’ve been to Nigeria twice, now, for three weeks in total. It’s not the most pleasant country to visit – it’s too hot for a Brit like me, and there’s so much crime you can’t exactly go for a walk in the evening or anything. The electricity supply is dodgy and the water’s not something you can trust. Then there’s the mosquitoes and the inherent malaria risk, and all the jabs you have to have before you visit just to be safe.
Sounds like a bad list. Until you look at the people. One of my aunts married a Nigerian guy, and a nicer man you could never meet. Religious and lives by it, strict yet fun and a good father to their three kids. The people I worked with when I was there were a good bunch, too. Laid back, yes, but they were aware that they were the lucky ones in a country such as Nigeria and they did their job well. The ones in employment work damn hard for their money – silly hours for what we would class as a pittance.
OK, so they’re not afraid to ask for a backhander or some “money for phone credit”. Some may call it cheek, I call it a tip. My driver was on call 24/7 while I was there, and saw his family (a 5 hour bus ride each way) maybe once a week.
They’re fiercely proud of their country. My uncle was all over me when I got back, asking how things had changed since he was last there – some 15+ years, as he can’t re-enter the country. If he does, he’s either in trouble or won’t be able to leave. It’s bad enough for me to be homesick for Tyneside, some 100 miles away, but at least I can visit it regularly with no problems. I can’t even begin to sympathise with how he must feel.
When you leave, they all ask if you’ve enjoyed your stay… but it’s like a customer feedback thing. They really want to know. It’s important to them.
And then you have the *******. The thieving, pathetic, backstabbing, corrupt scum who seem to fill Nigeria to the brim, forcing the honest ones out. The bottom-feeders who’ll try to take advantage of anyone, not giving a **** for the consequences of their actions as long as they get some dollar bills.
There are umpteen scams on the go at the moment, and a staggering number trace back to Nigeria. There’s the “I am a rich person trying to get millions of dollars out of Nigeria – please send me your bank details in return for a million quid” emails – commonly known as the 419 scam. There’s the dodgy cheque fraud that’s kicked up recently. The ******* are all over eBay at the moment (my grief with them at the moment), trying to rip off sellers and buyers alike.
I just wish the honest, decent folk over there could see their way clear to beating the living **** out of these utter ******** who are spoiling their good name. Ship the ******* over there. I’ll 419 their arses.
Argh
Getting the sensation of turtle’s head (eating a whole big bag of peanuts has a laxative effect), I pelted for the loo. Thing is, there’s only one trap per bloke’s toilet per floor in this building. And the ground floor one was in use.
Cue me huffing and puffing my unfit frame up to the first floor (note to Americans – we’re weird and start on Ground, then First, Second… Our First is your Second etc.), staggered into the loo and… engaged. Arse.
Back out, into the stairwell and up another two flights. By this time I’m gasping like an Michael Jackson in the underwear section at Mothercare. Third time lucky… I barge into the loo, passing Chris who was just on his way out. Having just done the smelliest poo in the world ever.
So I’m in a bit of a Catch-22. I’m gasping for breathe, but every lungful I take in is tainted with the smell of an other man’s faecal matter.
I’m not sure which caused me to pass out. The smell or trying to hold my breath while straining to lay a cable.
ugh. deep breathing in someone else’s poo stench is the ******* WORST.
Visiting third world countries is always an eye-opener. In my case it’s Nepal that I visit regularly rather than Nigeria, but very similar comments to yours could apply. The porters we take on an expedition perform back-breaking labour for often twelve or fourteen hours a day and earn, per day, an amount of money you probably wouldn’t think twice about chucking to a homeless guy in the streets. And they are the most incredible people, they really can’t do enough for you you. At the end of every expedition we “tip” them, but the tip is probably about twice their total earnings for the trip. Makes you realise how easy we have it.
I had friends in Zambia who said the only people they were afraid of were Nigerians and Congolese. No joke.
may I also refer you to http://www.scambuster419.co.uk/
“Gilbert Murray” you are my hero
ps. smelly poo’s
heh heh hehhehheh
obviously, being a girl, mine don’t actually smell bad at all & come out wrapped in silk, tied with a bow & smelling of rose petals
honest
Touching cloth is never fun. Unless it happens to someone else.
Which is why I’m laughing now.
Mosh: Great minds… There I was commenting on the same Nigeria fuckwit alert, on the same day. 🙂
cool!
As for the poo, smelly ones are meant for fathers to do, so they can shut their sons in the toilet after and hold the door shut until the little boy cries. (Not that I’ve ever done this)
Ever noticed if you live with people long enough, you can tell which one was the last one to use the toilet by the smell of their poo?
Just me then, eh?
As usual.