Nigeria
does not top many people's lists of the ideal holiday destination. And
for all its amazing vitality and astonishing natural resources, this
seems unlikely to change given the unrest over
fuel prices and worsening terrorism in the Islamic north, highlighted by the
Christmas Day bombings of churches and
deadly recent attacks in Kano. So all the
more praise to travel writer
Noo Saro-Wiwa for producing such an affectionate and irreverent guide to a place so far from the beaten tourist track.
Looking for Transwonderland is unlikely to persuade many people to brave the infamous scrums at Lagos airport, filled as it is with anecdotes of
hotel
chefs who refuse to cook, terrifying traffic ordeals and casual
indifference to cultural heirlooms. Upon arrival, the author shares such
concerns. She finds the sign "Welcome to Lagos" almost chilling – "like
some kind of sick joke" – while the motto "Centre of Excellence"
printed on the
city's
car number plates is dismissed as a ridiculous conceit.
Yet as she gets to grips with the pace of this unruly giant of a
country, jumping onto lethal motorbike taxis, squeezing into overcrowded
buses and traipsing round shabby hotels with their drunken managers,
outdated furnishings and intermittent water supplies, she ends up
performing a valuable
service. For in her gentle style, she peels away many of the cliches that envelop
Nigeria and reveals both the beauty and brutality of this slumbering superpower, which as any visitor rapidly discovers is one of the
world's most exasperating yet exhilarating nations.
So while venal leaders rip off billions from state coffers, museum
chiefs flog off ancient artefacts and endless hustling fills the
streets, people can leave front doors unlocked and bags unattended on
minibuses. "Nobody stole our things, not even the street
kids
who swarm around vehicles in northern towns to beg for food and money,"
she writes. Throughout Nigeria, Saro-Wiwa encounters decency, humour,
resilience and vast reserves of that famed energy.
She drops in on a dog show, tours a wildlife sanctuary, checks out
the men looking for "sugar mummies" in the small ads and visits the
amusement
park
of the title. Billed as the closest thing Nigeria has to Disneyland, it
turns out to be a forlorn
landscape
of motionless machinery. Although
Saro-Wiwa is occasionally ground down by the disorder and the
dereliction, the chaos and the corruption – and is clearly less
comfortable in the north – her tone throughout is one of wry amusement.