Everything I know about army life in America, I learnt from movies. The buzzwords, the abrasive drill sergeants, those godawful haircuts and that thing about their love for Camaros. So when I spied a certain spicy Nigerian in the army, I mean look at our guy:

I had to snap him up to answer some questions.

Kolade is a Nigerian who moved to the United States in 2014. He is now a citizen and a member of the United States Army, living in Kansas City. Grab your pens and papers, this is his Abroad Life.

Before I start doing one-handed push-ups over this call, what are the chances of a full-fledged Nigerian like me, getting recruited to the US Army?
Slim to none, sorry about that.

Are you holding out on me? So how did you get into the army?

Well, one word – MAVNI or Military Accessions Vital to the National Interest. Back in 2014, I had just a bachelors degree in electrical engineering from Covenant University, so I moved to Kansas in the US to get a Masters in Engineering Management. While I was doing this, I heard about the MAVNI programme, essentially — the US government was recruiting internationals to serve in the army and gain citizenship upon completing the program.

The –

Did you just say citizenship?

Man, yes oh! All you needed to do was pass the tests and go through basic training and your blue pali was set. The only problem is, very shortly after I completed the MAVNI program, it got closed, I think it 2016. Now, you need a green card as an international applicant before you can even think of joining the US Army.

Tragic. But wait, you’re saying you flipped your student visa into a citizenship?

That is absolutely correct!

Opelope anointing. So random question before we return to the MAVNI program, what position do you hold in your family?

I am the first and only child.

Do you by any chance have video of you telling your Nigerian parents, their only child wants to join the army? I am ready to trade my left leg for it.

Haha. Funny enough it wasn’t very dramatic. The only thing is, because I know how my mother would have reacted, I didn’t tell her about my plans until I was 80% already in the US Army. At that point, she had no choice but to agree, it was actually very calm.

Must be nice. So how intense was MAVNI?

Oh, you have no idea. So before you get accepted, you must have been living in the US for at least two years, you needed a university degree, and then there were a number of tests and background checks to undergo because first and foremost, they had to confirm the applicant wasn’t a terrorist. So I went through that. But maybe the most notable thing was the language exam I had to go through.

They carried this TOEFL behaviour to the army too?

Oh no, nothing like that. The army at that time had to test that you were fluent in your native language. There was Yoruba, Igbo, Hausa, other international native languages examinations, it was very intense. I had to write a test in Yoruba, then hold a conversation, purely in the language for 45 minutes straight with another indigenous speaker. 

Laughs in my D in NECO Yoruba.

See, you think blue pali is easy? I studied for that exam like I had JAMB to write. Spoke exclusively in Yoruba to my mom for about a month before the test because if you fail that one language exam, that’s it. It’s all over Jackie, kiss that uniform goodbye. After that, I waited two years to go for my basic training. Normally, it should have taken six months, but I had to undergo security clearances and hurdles like that.

Sounds like a lot. But can I ask, why the army? Why not something engineering related?

Well, precisely because of engineering and maybe a few other factors. With an engineering degree, you would mostly get jobs that required a high number of security clearances, exactly the type of stress companies abroad hate. They’re very unwilling to file H-1B visas for international workers, when they can just source them locally.

Oh.

And engineering is even mild. Immigrants with certifications in a field like aeronautical engineering, where their job descriptions require insane levels of security clearance, it is almost impossible to get jobs abroad. And shifting your life to return home after making a stable living in this country, having friends here ⁠— joining the armed forces and gaining citizenship just seemed like a no-brainer.

Also, they have light.

Haha. They do.

So what do you currently do in the US army?

Well, I am on the army reserves serving as a power generation specialist, which is a fancy way of saying generator mechanic. I go in once a month, but I have a regular 9-5 job that I go to every day.

Scuse me?! What this mean?

So here’s the thing. If you’re on active duty in the Army, that is your 9-5, you cannot have a secondary job. But if you’re on the reserves, like I am, I only go to my unit one weekend every month. So I’m in uniform only then and I get paid for that weekend.

And you are very sure I can’t join this army? I can do three pull-ups.

Haha. It’s too late Jackie.

So this 9-5 isn’t army affiliated?

Not at all. I’m on my lunch break, in my shirt and pants talking to you now. At the end of work, I’ll go home to my apartment and not, you know the army barracks. It’s very chill.

A wow. What are three things about the army about the army no one could have prepared you for?

Well, basic training. They tell you those ten weeks will be hard, but nothing can prepare you for it. Hmm.

Then I guess I’ll say the army shows you your strengths? I can’t think of a third, but things like that.

Okay. To the scary bits, is there a chance you can get deployed to war?

Oh yeah, it’s the army!

Face palm.

You get like 6-9 months notice beforehand though. Then there’s training. But that war, you’ll go oh.

But will you be involved in combat, being a generator specialist?

I mean, there’s this thing they say in the army, your first job is as an infantry man. So if you like, be a cook, a driver, you have to know how to shoot and be prepared at all times to use your weapon. So if they shoot you, shoot back.

A most understandable gbas-gbos. Another random question, are there any restrictions in the army, like say posting on social media?

Oh ofcourse. There are core values and things we can’t be caught doing. So off the top of my head, we’re not allowed to speak against the president, because technically, he’s our boss. So regardless of any personal opinions, you just keep it pushing and keep it to yourself.

Oh I see. And retirement? Can you do that at any time?

Nope. There’s an 8-year contract and you have to see it until the end. I still have a way off before I can.

So in that time, what’s your ultimate ambition in the Army?

Well, maybe a general, like an officer position. Or a Command Sergeant Major. But not right now, I’ll have to go through like six weeks of training to become an officer, and I just can’t take the time off from work right now. Maybe later.

Should I even bother asking if you would join the Nigerian army if you had a chance?

Here’s the thing, while my family would definitely stop me from ever joining, it isn’t something that I would immediately have written off. I mean, I’d have to join as maybe a Lieutenant or a Second Private, but who knows. What’s most heartbreaking about the Nigerian Army though, and I’m pretty vocal about this on social media, is how ill-equipped the government allows them to be. I mean, for people literally laying their lives on the line, they don’t get and their family doesn’t get the type of compensation and care they truly deserve. And that’s just a portion of the heartache of the Nigerian army.

Not one lie spoken, it’s heartbreaking. Last question, would you ever return to Nigeria.

Definitely. It’s in my 10-12 year plans. I would love to set up a non-profit, help people, and maybe set up one or two businesses in Nigeria. Just the business climate in this country is not the best, so here’s hoping they fix it within that time.

Hear, hear.

But I haven’t been to Nigeria in about 5 years, I mean I don’t miss the country, but I do miss my friends and my people. So yeah, returning to Nigeria? It’s in the plans.

Want more Abroad Life? Check in every Friday at 9 A.M. (WAT) for a new episode. Until then, read every story of the series here.

To get a better understanding of Nigerian life, we started a series called ‘Compatriots’, detailing the everyday life of the average Nigerian. As a weekly column, a new installment will drop every Tuesday, exploring some other aspect of the Nigerian landscape.

This week, a cab driver in Lagos gives us a scoop on the wild ride that is, navigating the city as a means to an end.

Cast your mind back to the last cab you rode in, I’ll wait.

Was your driver dark? Irredeemably sunburned? Did he have most of his hair, or had life taken disrespectful nibbles off the edges? By any miracle, do you recall what he was wearing?

Chances are, important as getting from point A to B with a few taps on your phone is ⁠— escaping a bad date, ducking off work, getting home safely after a night out ⁠— not as much importance is placed on the actual interaction of the journey to make it worthy of any recollection. If that doesn’t sum up my experience as a cab driver – equal parts invincible and invisible, I don’t know what will.

I made the decision to convert my mileage to cash and star ratings about seven months ago. It was the third month of the year and for the third time, I was falling short of my humblest monthly earning ambitions, carefully scribbled away in my new year resolutions. The numbers from my fabric supply business just weren’t adding up, I had long since given up using my computer science degree for anything other than a conversation starter, and time was running out.

After toying with the labour and capital intensive ideas of starting from scratch ⁠— a catfish farm and then a printing press, hitting accelerate in my already present car, didn’t seem like such a bad idea. And there began my now seven-month journey, making trips while engaging in a never-ending game of people-watching.

All my life, I thought I had experienced all that Lagos, the state I love and grew up in, had to offer. See, I was wrong. Witnessing the city within the 12-hour daily driving limit prescribed by the company I work for, births some new life and emotion to the city-experience.

There’s anxiety, at the start of your new job. Do I initiate conversation? Maybe silence would rub the passenger the wrong way. So I ploughed riders with offerings of sweets, questions on preferred routes and radio stations, the prospect of carrying their first child, anything to get that five-star rating.

That anxiety sometimes gave way to shame. Shame when passengers sat behind, rather than adjacent to me. Barking orders, solidifying the driver role I set myself up for. Shame whenever I picked a known acquaintance’s request, all but praying that they cancel the ride. A little while on the job, however, I was past caring. A credit alert is a credit alert.

Reduced sweet portions, learned comfortable silences and indifference to passenger positions after, my anxiety and shame gave way to a new emotion – anger. Anger at the potholes littering the streets. You know, the ones that sound like answered mechanic prayers when you venture in. Anger at myself whenever a wrong turn convinces my rider of a calculated attempt to inflate the fare, and eventual anger at the passenger that just won’t shut up about that missed turn! Anger at Danfos, Keke Napeps, people that take their sweet time crossing.

But if you think anger is bad, try fear. Is that sound coming from my car getting louder? Why is this vehicle slowing on the highway with a passenger present?

While going through the rainbow of emotions driving in Lagos affords me, sometimes I take a break to notice the person occupying the same airspace as me.

Here’s the thing, I’m a hard person to miss. For preference of this size-friendly word, I’m heavy-weight. There are tribal marks scribbled across my face, drawn with maybe the intention to connect, but never quite doing so, and you will always find me riding around with gloves in hands (stipulations of a wife fed up with rough embraces). But for all of my distinguishing features, I could be driving around in an invisibility cloak for all the restraint riders show, passing stories around in full-hearing of a third party. Now, I’ll never share stories that don’t include me in the exchane, but oh man if I did.

On the flip side, when I am in the exchange, you would not believe the things I’ve witnessed. I’ve had a passenger rudely demand I drive to opposite ends of the state in one night, only to offer to pay in kind at the end of the trip. I’ve had drunken passengers forcibly insist I accompany them to their next spot of the night. And I’ve had more passengers than I can count, deliberately input a wrong, but sane part of Lagos as their destination. If one more person tries to convince me Ojuwoye Mushin is really in Ilupeju, I might scream.

But, for all the craziness involved in turning my four-wheeler into a taxi, dining room and the occasional bedroom to make ends meet. I can’t imagine doing much else to make ends meet. How else would you get the undiluted craziness of Lagos on the go?

Nigerians are not exactly fans of the walk-the-talk mantra. Remember that Daddy Bubu promised that he would make the naira “great again”? How’s that working out for him? At the last count, a thousand naira barely gets anyone through the day. Leemao!

So yes, it is newsworthy if someone does exactly what they say they will, and more so if the said person is an elected official.

In this case, it was the governor of Kaduna State, Mallam Nasir El-Rufai, who made the news.

Let’s Walk You Through It, Shall We?

In December 2017, he promised that one of his sons would be enrolled in a public school in the state to show his commitment about raising the education standard in his state.

Some two years after, it seems the governor might actually be doing this. According to a Septemeber 23 tweet on his official twitter account, Abubakar Al-Siddique El-Rufal has indeed been enrolled into one of these schools.

As I said, it was a newsworthy event, because, well… Nigeria. So, as you may expect, Twitter rose to the announcement. Internet is accessible, maybe not cheap, but it is accessible. Everyone had something to say about it.

There is this person that thinks the Governor is only trying to score cheap political points:

This person says y’all shouldn’t trip:

There are reports that Government renovated the said school with about 195 million Naira. But this person thinks that shouldn’t be THE point.

But, there just might be a little twist to the story. I mean, it’s Nigeria, isn’t it?

I can only think of two things here; yes, the money has been diverted in true Nigeria version, or maybe, just maybe the children in question were too shy to meet the Governor. I mean who wouldn’t be?

We’ll keep watching.

There’s actually nothing we won’t hear in this country. The Nigerian Senate — same guys with a ₦13 million monthly salary, inclusive of a ₦1.24m ‘hardship’ allowance, have brought something brown new for us to chew on.

This time, our esteemed Honourables are looking to spend ₦5.5 billion on new SUVs for each of the 109 members of the nation’s senate. This will add up to about ₦50.5 million naira spent on each senator.

Now, like any right-thinking person, you must be thinking, how on earth is ₦5.5 billion a reasonable amount to spend on jeeps in the poverty capital of the world? In a country that can’t even afford to pay a ₦30,000 minimum wage countrywide? Where VAT is about to be increased to generate more money?

Well, that’s you, a reasonable person. On the flip side reason, however, is Senate leader – Yahaya Abdullahi. A man whose vision must be limited to the dividing line between his buttocks because he believes it is ‘an insult to say a Senator cannot ride a jeep in Nigeria’.

His statement was in reaction to the public outcry against the amount of money proposed to get these guys riding in new whips. Just that nobody ever die of insort, I know where Nigerians would have carried this man to.

Now if for any reason, you see some sense in what he’s saying, then I have a little math assignment for you, don’t be angry.

Take all the money they’ve spent on your education, plus all the money you’ve ever spent on food, then add the salary you’ve been collecting all of these years. Has it entered ₦50 million?

And even if it is, is that why they should spend money the average Nigerian most likely will never see in his lifetime on a jeep?

Well, that’s just our opinion. Let us know what you think about the proposed ₦5.5 billion jeeps in the comments below.

The Nigerian experience is physical, emotional and sometimes international. No one knows it better than our features on #TheAbroadLife, a series where we detail and explore Nigerian experiences while living abroad.

Today, our search for abroad life takes us to Minnesota, a state in America whose freezing temperatures, blizzards and tornadoes are simply not strong enough to keep Nigerians out. There’s even a Redeemed Christian Church of God there guys.

My knowledge of the state only went as far as the facts Fargo taught me, which I would learn in the course of this interview are nothing like what Minnesota is like in real life. Helping to shed a little more light on the state is Ayoola, a Nigerian who has been a student of Minnesota State University since 2013. He lets us in on how living abroad has been since then.

When was your first time abroad?

Kenya. I was pretty young, maybe 12. The next time I crossed Muritala Muhammed was when I was heading to school in 2013. 

What would you say is the easiest means to leave Nigeria? Asking for 140m friends.

Student-visa way! Which is what I did. I mean, I haven’t left-left Nigeria, but American visiting visas are hell to get these days and relocating legally? Just put a pause on that while this president is in office. I guess I was lucky when I left, it was fairly easier then. I don’t know the process now though. I used EducationUSA back then, they were pretty reliable.

How expensive was it to get a student visa in 2013?

Man, the golden age of N140 to a dollar. Back then I think it cost $300, which was about N45,000.

Gasp!

Yeah, if you started paying school-fees post-2015, I feel bad for you son. I’m still in the fee-paying boat, but those first two years were bliss and I didn’t even realise it.

So you were in school when the exchange rate started turninoniown in 2015. How crazy did that get?

It was… crazy. But I’ll say I was shielded from the worst of it because my school has student-paying jobs within it, while also allowing students to register outside jobs as courses. So even though the Naira was moving mad, I was able to have my own little kpa du kpa, earning dollars to supplement my allowance and all that.

What’s one thing everyone should know about Minnesota?

It is nothing like Fargo! My God! I’ve had to explain this to more people than you would think possible. Skress.

And lakes, there are lakes everywhere. It’s called the land of 10,000 lakes, but I bet there are way more.

There are! I checked. 11,842 to be precise.

Aha! Plus, everyone has a lakehouse here. They’re always gathering to fish. Like it could be freezing out, and you’d still have people lugging fish reels all over the place. It’s one thing I love,  family events 

What was the thing that surprised you the most about living abroad.

You know, it would surprise you, other people might say how free-spirited or how crazy Americans are, but the most surprising thing about living abroad is Nigerians. Well, Nigerian parents. Once their right leg crosses that boarding gate, their problem with collecting things from their left hands goes. You’ll see them saying “thank you” when cashiers hand them groceries with their left hands; always blows my mind.

So Minnesota has a Nigerian community then?

Nigerian, Somali, there’s a whole African community. What’s crazy is, we all band together. In Nigeria, you might differentiate Igbos from Yorubas, but over here, everyone just gets a kick out of the fact that they’re from the same continent.  It’s such a different feel; universities have African unions, it’s crazy.

Where’s the go-to place for Nigerian food in Minnesota?
None. You can’t imagine the injustice. If you want Nigerian food, you have to cook it yourself. I’d be in my dorm whipping up Jollof rice, or going to the next Nigerian’s room to have some egusi. Such is life.

Speaking of university, how is the campus experience?

It’s staying up to study until 3 am and walking into a 7am class in pajamas, but it’s also planning spur of the moment inter-state trips over the weekend. Like there’s serious work, but you’re not killing yourself because of school, you get?

Like when I decided to switch majors in my third year, it wasn’t a complicated process, filled out a form, took the extra courses I needed and that was that.

Won’t lie, abroad life is pretty sweet, I plan on getting a work permit after school so it doesn’t end. I know your next question is if I’d ever consider moving back…

(It was)

I won’t rule it out though. The thing about living here is the sudden patriotism that jumps out. Getting extra hype when Nigerian music comes on at parties, being defensive whenever Nigerian slander comes up. You should see us Nigerians speaking in pidgin and their native dialects when they gather. It’s actually wild. And the truth is, I just miss home. It’s cliché, but there’s no place like here.

Hear, hear, she says in Surulere. Any bad sides to it though?
Of course. Especially since Trump came into office. But I’ve had only one truly racist experience, and I didn’t even realise what was happening until it was over. My friends and I were standing outside of a cinema hall and some white boys in a car pulled up beside us mouthing something we couldn’t hear. Like we were so clueless, we actually asked them to come closer so we could hear them. It wasn’t until they sped off, we realised they were calling us the n-word. We just laughed it off. That’s the only time really.

Disappointing. Last question, what do people in Minnesota think about Nigerians?

Funny you should ask. Nothing. They really don’t know us. When people from Minnesota ask where I’m from and I say Nigeria, it’s always a blank stare that follows. They’re so clueless when it comes to African countries. We got some shine when Rick and Morty did a sketch with Nigerians, and other sketches, but that’s it oh. Cold world.

Want more Abroad Life? Check in every Friday at 9 A.M. (WAT) for a new episode. Until then, read every story of the series here.

The Nigerian experience is physical, emotional and sometimes international. No one knows it better than our features on #TheAbroadLife, a series where we detail and explore Nigerian experiences while living abroad.

South Africa is a country known for gold, vuvuzelas and the apartheid hero, Nelson Mandela. But beyond nationalists and national treasures, it is also a country infamous for the widespread xenophobic sentiments held by its citizens.

In 2008, the country recorded the bloodiest xenophobic attacks in its history, when over 60 people were killed. In 2015, attacks got so severe, Nigerians and other immigrant businesses were the subject of repeated attacks and looting in the state.

To get a feel for the daily life of Nigerians currently living in a land so outwardly against their presence, we sat with a young Nigerian woman, who recounted her experience.

For such a distincg Nigerian name, you have quite the South African accent, how long have you lived there?
My family moved to South Africa shortly after I completed primary school. I think I was about 13 years at the time. I’m 23 now. 

Why did your family decide to move?

Well, my mother is South African, and my dad is Nigerian so they moved to be closer to her family over here. He still lives in Nigeria though.

Oh! So you’re half-Nigerian, half⁠ South —

Well. I’m Nigerian and I hold a residence permit in South Africa.

Wait, explain.
In South Africa, once you’re an immigrant or you have immigrant parents, citizenship is just… no. My best friend, whose parents are Nigerian, was born here and speaks Zulu like she owns the place. We’re both toting permanent residency permits.

Hold on. I just did a quick Google search and holders of permanent residency permits should be able to apply for citizenship after five years, right? Right?!

Yeahhh, you would think so. But nope, that citizenship is not going to happen.

Wild. So you mentioned your best friend is Nigerian, is there a Nigerian community where you live?
Oh absolutely. But not just Nigerian. There’s an African community here. You might not think it because of the attacks, but Johannesburg is a pretty metropolitan city. There are Zimbabweans, Malawians, a lot of Congolese people. The majority of my friends are immigrants.

Okay, you just mentioned Johannesburg. Before the attacks that happened this week, had there been any crisis with immigrants?
I wouldn’t say crisis, but it’s always a tense situation. The attacks started in the part of Johannesburg that isn’t safe, and right next to it is this big immigrant community called Hillbrow.

Tell me about it.

So Hillbrow is like the starter city for any immigrant who recently moved. The rent is low; it’s about 1000 rand a month

You can find Jollof rice in the Ethiopian Orthodox church. There are a lot of Igbo mechanics, french clubs, it’s very multicultural. But the thing is, it’s right next to Central Johannesburg, a portion of the city that the government has pretty much left to rot. So immigrants, for reasons beyond me, get the blame for its deteriorated state. To some people, immigrants living in an area can cause it to go into disrepair. So it’s always an easy target.

For Nigerians in particular, were there any clashes before this week’s incident?

Here’s the thing about Nigeria and South Africa. If you go to Sandton, almost all the music is Nigerian: Wizkid, Davido. Dj Cuppy was even there about three months ago. Nigerians even spend the most money in clubs, and that’s all fine. But a line just gets drawn and there’s this resentment towards immigrants.

Can I tell you something?

Go on.
South Africans blur the lines where immigrants and foreign nationals are involved. They use ‘Nigerians’ as a blanket term.

Wait what?
Yes!

Please explain.
When I first moved to South Africa, someone said to me, “The Nigerians in Johannesburg speak french,” when I kept insisting I could only speak English. He was actually referring to Congolese immigrants.
So when you hear people say South Africans say things like: “Oh, we’re tired of the Nigerians in this place,” what they really mean is, they’re tired of Zimbabweans, Malawians, the Congolese and just about all black immigrants in South Africa.

What? 

So in these recent attacks, Nigerians were said to be targeted, how would they have been physically identified?
I don’t know that any Nigerians were actually attacked. Nigerian businesses were looted, but to have attacked Nigerians would have required going around to their homes, which are high-density immigrant areas, and that would be a foolish thing to do. Although, in Central Johannesburg, in the further parts, where townships are, there were reports of immigrant homes being attacked shortly before this week’s incidents. However, to answer your question, Nigerians bear distinguishing marks from South Africans. Nigerian men are physically bigger and taller in build, where South African men are smaller. They’re darker too. Maybe the language and then the accent.

So these aren’t the first attacks this year. They’ve been building up?Exactly. So there’s a reason the attacks happened in Johannesburg and it probably links back to this guy, Herman Mashaba, he’s the Mayor. 

Think ‘Trump meets your tribalist African uncle’. Because of him, a weird wave of nationalism has swept over Johannesburg. He won on a platform that condemned immigrants and blamed them for everything from the lack of jobs in South Africa to his wack hairline. He has a special term for immigrants, he calls them “Illegal foreign nationals”. The sentiments he preached have carried on from his campaign and have settled on the people of Johannesburg. He has also been carrying out a lot of immigrant raids.

Tell me about those.
Okay, so about three weeks ago, this bonafide South African, mixed-race woman got arrested, because, and I quote “She looked and smelled like an Ethiopian.”

Please, tell me you’re making this up.
I’m not

(She wasn’t. Hit this link)

In trains and bus stations, they stop people and ask for their Identity cards.

What? Like passbooks?

Exactly, this has been happening in Central Johannesburg. About two weeks ago, there was a raid where immigrants sell clothes for cheap. Their goods were seized and they were asked to show their papers. Apparently, they were selling “counterfeit clothes” to the good people of South Africa. What does that even mean?

Bruh.
Nigerians got the rap for that somehow. Same way a Nigerian drug dealer was accused of killing a South African taxi driver. You know, what supposedly led to this week’s attacks, when apparently,  It was a Tanzanian.

We heard about that. Have you been personally attacked for being Nigerian? I’ll be honest, there’s a bit of a distinction. While xenophobia cuts across all social classes, violence drawn from said attacks are usually restricted to, you know, the underprivileged in society. I’ve been pretty sheltered, so while I’ve never been physically attacked, I get I verbal assaults and looks of just hate, yeah, those happen.

Man.
I mean, every time I have to go to get my passport or papers at the government office, people look at my name and say, “Oh, you must have bribed your way to get these papers”. 

Man. Man. Have you ever felt the need to go by a South African name just to have things easier?
Hmm.

Well, it’s a thing where I’m very cautious when I tell people my name. I’ll admit there have been times where I just leave it out that I’m Nigerian because you never know who you might be speaking to, they could be violent, they could have a specific anti-Nigerian/immigrant axe to grind. But these days, I just own it, it’s terrible having to deny your identity. I have a friend that that just moved here from Nigeria for university, anytime he gets into a cab, he’d claim he’s Congolese or Malian, anything but Nigerian. It’s crazy.

Would you ever move back to Nigeria?

I mean, I’m in Nigeria every year, so I never feel quite far from home. At the end of the day, there are better opportunities in South Africa for me right now. I’ll always consider the possibility though.

Want more Abroad Life? Check in every Friday at 3 PM (WAT) for a new episode. Until then, read every episode of the series here.

Of all the things Musa has seen at the gate this July (and there are many), nothing has surprised him quite like the mess that is Elisha Abbo.

Abbo is a Nigerian lawmaker who believes it is normal behaviour to rock snapbacks in 2019. 

He represents Adamawa North and was well on his way to becoming one of Nigeria’s more forgettable lawmakers, collecting his eight-figure salary, chairing one million sub-committees and making the occasional appearance in Dino Melaye’s Instagram stories.

On July 2nd however, news of the senator’s scumminess broke out when he was caught on tape assaulting a woman multiple times in an Abuja sex-shop. 

You can hear him, obviously power (and perhaps other substances) drunk, demanding that the owner of the shop drop her phone, then needlessly get enraged that he is asked to calm down, before resorting to cowardly violence. 

At first, he attempted to explain his idiocy away in this interview, before thinking better of it and releasing the most half-assed attempt at an apology video I’ve ever seen. And I binge watch YouTube apology videos for fun. 

Who wants to bet there was a cue at that point in his real-life ‘apology script’, saying ‘cry here and make it look believable too’.

Also, is it just me, or does he sound like he reads by tracing a finger on each word on the page? Just me? Okay.

You would think, after being caught on video being a 5’4 phallus, and needing to release an apology video for his actions, he would simmer down and take whatever punishment the public and his peers at the Senate would dole out to him. We all must have forgotten we were dealing with a person dangerous enough to voluntarily rock snapbacks in 2019. Clearly he doesn’t give AF about any kind of human opinion, which must explain why only a week after, he was caught on video doing this:

So we have a snapback wearing, people-assaulting senator, given to throwing unnecessary tantrums, even in the face of disciplinary committees. It’s a no-brainer that he should be placed on a suspension at least, pending the time a decision would hopefully be reached to strip him of his senatorial post, and to prosecute his ass, seeing as he assaulted another citizen. A misdemeanor at the very least.

Someone, please explain to me then, why TF this man was seen smiling and recommending that Rauf Aregbesola be given a big ministry to handle during the ministerial screenings? Not for his track record as governor, but for the idiotic reason that Aregbesola was so gracious as to surrender the entirety of his salary to Abbo when he contested a local government chairman position, despite the vast majority of citizens in Osun State being owed salaries at the time.

And while you’re thinking up that explanation, kindly clarify how any right-thinking human would gift a snapback wearing, people assaulting, tantrum-throwing, selfish ministerial recommendation giving senator, an award for being an Icon of Democracy?

Presenting this award was the Intercommunity Awareness for Change and Development Initiative, an initiative whose Facebook page has 96 followers, and whose last post was a profile picture update from 2015.  Absolutely nothing suspicious about that award here, nope.

Even worse, this man went on to act like he just won his first Grammy, giving the most nauseating acceptance speech of all time. 

Listen to him frame the assault as though it were something that happened to him, reducing the ugliness of his actions to a trending topic. 

And excuse you? The only young people looking up to your 5’4 frame, are pre-tweens still learning to walk. Here’s hoping they steer the clearest away from you. You are no role model and there is absolutely no strength to be drawn from your foolishness.

Please and please Nigerians, can we rally together so the next time we hear about this man, it’s about how prison food keeps giving him incessant diarrhea? Please?

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We tell you the most important things that happened in Nigeria, during the week, in a way that won’t bore you to death. Here’s a peek at last week’s dispatch. Don’t forget to share!

Like the streets of Lagos after the slightest tinkle of rain, the month of June in Nigeria has been one drawn-out series of unfortunate events after the other.

From a governor bearing arms, to helicopters landing on federal roads; we weren’t quite sure where parody ended and real life began. We bet you, if every single date in the month of June was Googled alongside Nigerian news, you were bound to see something to spur you reaching for your rosary, while simultaneously grabbing your visa bookies number from your phone book.

Here’s our attempt to make sense of the most hard-hitting, hard to believe unfortunate events that trailed Nigeria in June 2019.

JAMB Sliding Down The Score Bean Stalk.

Hammering the last bedazzled nail, round the coffin that is Nigeria’s Education sector, the Joint Admission Matriculation Board on June 11th, raised the cut-off mark from 140, to a bound feet-shuffling 160.

What this means is, rather than look into the cause of secondary school students wasting their adolescence on multiple JAMB examinations, the board took the easy way out, lowering the cut-off marks so multiple, unqualified students could learn the valuable life lesson to aim low, because the bar will one day, eventually lower to meet you.

Rochas ‘King Coon’ Okorocha.

Who needs inter-tribal hate, when you can get it hassle-free from your kinsman?

Serial statue erector and Nigerian senator – Rochas Okorocha, on June 13th, chose to air his views on the 2023 presidency, by being quite exclusionary to the Igbo people.

Rather than focus on qualifications, competence, vision, workable ideas, you know ⁠— the typical kind of thing to look out for in a President, he discounted Igbo chances of a victory in the 2023 elections, saying “an Igbo Presidency does not exist”.

Admittedly, he doubled down on this statement, saying : We may be talking about Nigeria’s president of Igbo extraction but that depends on what other geo-political zones think about the issue.

This means, good luck running for president if you tick all the boxes as an aspirational Igbo candidate, but the seven equally tepid performing geo-political zones, decide you’re not of a worthy tribe.

I’ve Got A Chopper On The Express.

Proving that there is no situation too hard for Nigerian pockets to soften, an unnamed VIP somehow got air traffic permission and bested law enforcement, road safety and just general human decency, by having a helicopter land to airlift him from hours of traffic on the Lagos-Benin expressway.

In saner climes, there would be heavy sanctions for this, but here? Endless retweets and aspire to perspire anecdotes. Lovely.

Rage Against The Visa Machine.

A Nigerian man, Hulk green with rage destroyed five Nigerian embassy cars in England on June 17th, 2019. His grouse was in not receiving his passport on time, while the embassy argued that he failed to produce a collection slip for the purpose.

Real classy.

Ibikunle ‘John Wick’ Amosun.

It appears former Governor Ibikunle Amosun got wind of an early end time battle the rest of the world wasn’t privy to, because we don’t uderstand why he was stockpiling an obscene amount of arms and ammunition during his time in office.

On June 24th, word got out that the former Ogun State governor surrendered at least four million rounds of ammunition, 1,000 units of AK47 assault rifles, 1,000 units of bulletproof vests and an armoured personnel carrier (APC) to the State Commissioner of Police, a few hours to the end of his tenure in office.

He explained that the arms were procured to “check the widespread insecurity in his state”  and were kept in the Government House Armoury to “ensure they were not allocated indiscriminately by security agencies. “

Well…

Nigeria’s Plan To Fight Kidnapping … One Video Shoot At A Time.

Here lies the drone deliberately budgeted for and purchased by the Nigerian army for… checks notes, countering kidnapping in Ekiti State.

This glorified, levitiating selfie stick, launched ON ——-, was also purchased for Ondo State, as measures to alleviate the banditry and increased cases of kidnapping scourging the area.

This drone is for video shoots, the only thing this device should be covering is video vixens and rappers reproducing that bird man rub from 2005. Fix it Lord.

What was your favourite June disaster?

We are currently in the politically correct year of our Lord 2019, so I will refrain from labelling Nigeria and everything even tangentially related thereto, as one big scam.

What no one can stop me from doing however, is calling out the little demon spawns currently running round Nigeria, dressed as seeming well-adjusted individuals. But who in reality, are looking for the most efficient ways to make large-scale marks of every Nigerian, Caucasian, alsatian, wekk anyone really; they’re not picky,

I have in my hands today, a series of curses to reign down on them:

May you always arrive at the bank right when they shut the door at the last customer.

I hope everytime you go out to eat, they give you hard ponmo

I hope you spend your days feeling like something is stuck in your teeth, but never being able to really pick it out.

I hope your arms shrink in size right when you’re about to scratch that itch in your back.

But more seriously, I hope this happens to you right after experiencing all of this in a single day:

Equally as vengeful as I am, are these 5 Nigerians who, using me as free therapy, vented about their experiences in the hands of Nigerian scammers:

They scammed me young, in secondary school to be precise.

I was in school with a bunch of hooligans, so I guess I should have known to stay woke at all times. Well, one day they caught me slipping and I paid dearly for it.

I don’t know how things are done now, but in my day, mobile phones were strictly prohibited in school, so you know everyone had their phones with them at all times.

Unfortunately for me, I decided to leave my phone in my school bag one morning before assembly, in full view of two of my class mates. Of course by the time I returned, it was missing. To get to the scam, one of those present in class moved heaven and earth to help me find the phone, claiming guilt that he probably passed the robber on his way to the assembly and didn’t stop him. Would you believe this guy asked me to tell him the password to my phone a week after it was lost, just in case he had the good fortune of finding it for me? And would you believe, desperate to have my phone back, I actually gave it to him?

It’s been over 10 years, but the number of curses I have stored up for him only increase as the years pass. 

–Faderera

This didn’t happen to me, but it played out straight in my face.

It was way before people knew to look out for scams promising they had won something or other. Straight from an exhausting day shopping in Balogun Market with my brother and both parents, my father got a call informing him that he had won a prize of around a million naira from a non-descript competition he had signed up for using his Glo number. My dad, ever the opportunist also seemed to recall signing up for the competition (he didn’t really) and asked how he could redeem him prize.

The ever delightful scammers, using their own credit, asked him to send over any account number from a specific bank and its atm pin, so they could make some confirmations before transfer the prize money, which was to be immediate. (Un)fortunately for my father, he didn’t have an account with that bank. Would you believe this man made us drive, completely exhausted to LASU so my brother could help with making the transfer possible?

Smelling a rat, my brother made sure to send a mostly empty and abandoned account to the scammers asking, which prompted the con-man to demand that we fill it up with money before he could make any donations to us.

Long story short, my father is still the butt of many fast money jokes in my house.

–Olanrewaju

What Computer Village has taken my eyes to see.

I have many scamming experiences in Computer village, but you never forget your first time as they say.

After saving over about 80 000 of my hard earned (and some parent-scammed) money, to buy the iPhone 4, I made the trip to purchase the phone at where I thought was a certified dealer in Computer Village. After testing the phone and making sure all of its features worked, my ever thoughtful dealer collected the totality of my saved up money, and phone, promising to return with my phone in a shiny new pack, following which I thanked him and went on my merry way.

Tell me why, after I got home and opened my IPhone 4,  there was eba I could have eaten with hot egusi waiting for me inside, instead of apple software?

They scammed me with hostel oh!

There isn’t a day I remember this story that my head doesn’t get hot. First of all, let me blame UNILAG for putting me in the position where I had to buy a hostel in the first place. So there’s this crazy rule where only first and final year students get to ballot for hostels in UNILAG. So, not trying to kill myself with a daily commute from Awoyaya to Unilag every day, I decided to buy a hostel from this man that promised heaven and earth he was a connected guy. So, being a gullible third year student, I gave him  ₦60 000 to make it happen.

Spoiler, he wasn’t connected. After ignoring my calls and literally speeding away in his car anytime he saw me on campus, I resolved to squat for the year at New Hall hostel, I couldn’t even tell my parents, I had to jog to Moremi anytime they came to visit and pose outside. It is well sha.

–Omotoke

One letter, three times. MMM.

That’s all. – Jude