A Beard, An Army Green Jacket and Getting Detained at Busia

I don't know what could ever make me turn down an opportunity to travel. You see, my knack for travel means that I get the sickness bug, if I haven't traveled in 90 days. The thrills help my mind breathe and turn up the embers of that burning desire for life!

Passport is ever ready for that travel

 Two years ago, while returning to Rwanda a second time within four months, I missed my connecting flight because my flight to Nairobi was late. I smiled to myself inside Jomo Kenyatta International Airport, knowing that I could get the chance to explore Nairobi. Sadly, no thanks to terrible customer service by Kenyan Airways and her partner hotel, I lost time between waiting to get to the hotel and even checking in to my room. Well, when I finally got the chance to enter Nairobi with friends, we were only able to get as far as the parliament building, and left in good time, before Nairobi's traffic would swallow us.

Ugali and Chicken is one of my East African immersions. But I traveled with my pepper

I knew then, that I had unfinished business in Kenya - I always knew that I owed life a good chunk of merriment and the creation of memories in East Africa, and nothing will happen in Kenya to even douse it. So, when I returned to Nairobi in late July for a strategy meeting, I knew there was no way it would be all work and no play for Kolo. The winter was receding, but the cold was still there to make me needy. Thankfully, the army green jacket I bought in Copenhagen which has famously joined my travel starter pack was there to shield me from Nairobi chills. The nights were amazing. Eish, Westlands at night is something akin to Rue Princess in Abidjan. What I learned from those Nairobi nights is that Kenyans are way ahead of Nigerians when it comes to craft beer. Well, we have the age long burukutu and ogogoro, goskolo and what have you, but to know that most of the clubs and lounges sold their own craft beer got my jaws dropping like...

 

There is also the matter of maximum land use management with most malls and plazas having underground parking, unlike in Nigeria where half the size of your plot is earmarked for parking.I enjoyed my first silent disco experience in Nairobi too. The team after working our socks off, decided to celebrate our success, and silent disco was the perfect answer for me. I've always been a lover of mighty headphones, and it felt awesome around my ears.

My silent disco experience was lovely

A day before my flight, I received an notification. I was summoned to represent a superior, at the Commonwealth Youth Ministers' Meeting holding in Kampala, Uganda. The ajala/sojourner in me was as usual, prepared and ready to go. Apart from a few delays to confirm immigration requirements and my supporting documents, I managed to beat the Nairobi traffic to catch my bus, even though my luggage had to meet me up in Kampala on another bus. The commute helped me to see the geographical beauty of Kenya and mostly, the great rift valley which I had read so much about in school.

So, I packed my bag, and headed to town to meet a team I will soon be working with in Calabar, and to taste my first masala chai. Before I was done, it was time to beat Nairobi's evening rush hour and catch up with my bus to Busia. But, my luggage was still atleast 15 kilometres away. So, I agreed with my host, to just meet me up at the park. On getting to the park, my bus had already left the park, but thankfully was caught in traffic. Issue was, my luggage had not arrived the park, so I left a message with the Station Manager, who agreed to put my luggage on the next bus. Goodnews was, I had gone out with my travel passport in the morning.

I caught up with the bus, and was promptly ushered to my "VIP" seat, while I kept conversing with my host, to reconcile details regards my luggage, as well as snapshots of my Yellow Fever card that was in my bag. However, it was the events at the border post at Busia, that caused a few shivers down my spine, and causing me to play scenes in my head, while sat in an office, left alone for a while before officers came in to interrogate me.

You know how Nigerians are often stereotyped in the West? Well, same thing happened to me at the airport in Dubai and Nairobi; and it was what was playing out at Busia. Typically, the question in their heads, is in this line... "what is a bearded Nigerian donning an army green raincoat doing, crossing Kenya in to Uganda by road?" I was asked this kind of question by Ouatarra's rebels at Gbeunta in 2010, detained for hours and missing my truck ride to Danane. This time though, the bus driver was generous enough to wait for me. The interrogators were a man and a woman. The woman tried to look terse and tough, and all I continually kept telling myself, was to tay relaxed, smile and be as soft spoken as possible.

The lady asked, "where is the gun you are carrying?"

I looked at her playing surprised, and replied, "what gun?"

Army green jacket in use in Poland this time

The man banged the table, "young man, are we here to play? Where is the gun in your possession? The scanner detected a gun on you"

I sat up, moving my hands from the folded position on my chest, to placing them on the table, akin to surrendering myself to a body search. Then I looked at the man, and responded, "Sir, I have never owned a gun in my life. I am on a trip to Rwanda to attend the Commonwealth Youth Ministers' Meeting. My letter of invitation and reservations are on my phone in my pocket, and your colleague can get it out of my pocket if she wants."

He looked me straight in the eyes, and replied, "you can bring it out yourself."

So, I slowly put one hand in, and brought out my phone. Unlocked it, scrolled to the downloaded letters, and showed him.

"These signatures can easily be photoshopped, young man, I can't believe you", he said.

I quickly went back to my email, and showed him correspondence with the rep from the commonwealth office, who had sent my invitation letter. Only at that point, did he ease up.

Then, he went on to ask how I was going back to Nigeria. He wasn't concerned if I was going elsewhere from Kampala. For him, it was about returning to Nigeria for me. So, I listed out my itinerary, including the fact that I would be returning to Busia to exit his country before heading back to Nigeria.

All these happened so quickly, that within half an hour, it was all done, and I was allowed to go get my passport stamped. It was at that point that I realised their possible reason for detaining me. My passports (I always travel with my active and expired passports in one bind) were plastered with stamps from my many travels. Was that what triggered them? I know Uganda has had its fair share of conflict, and the proliferation of small arms, thanks to its foreign policy and proximity to volatile States.

Kenyan highlands where sugar cane thrives so much on

As I sat through the remaining half of my ride to Jinja and then Kampala, my mind stayed fixated on the agricultural potential of Uganda, and the banana plantations brought back scenes from "The Gods Must Be Crazy", as I smiled sheepishly to myself, entering Kampala.