My journey across West Africa Pt. 1

Dear readers, Few of my friends who had access to some of my travel journals insisted I post some of them as they make interesting read and offer some wonderful travel insights. I don’t know if there’s any truth to that but I will leave that to your judgment. I will try to post my journal entries on this particular adventure and add a little commentary in the coming weeks. I am sorry that this may not interest you; I suspect however it may be of extreme interest to others. The journal entries contain time, dates and details of the time I was writing them. They also contain my dialogues with some of the people I met, my endless thoughts and the questions I often pose to myself whenever I am faced with contingencies. So you should find as many questions and few answers as you read them. This is the Pilot of the episodes. I always thought it would be a great adventure to venture into the wilds of West Africa, to explore the deep isolated communities, cultures, people, cities, food, music and country in general. I finally made up my mind November of 2011. My backpack weighed about 5 pounds. The contents were: hiking boots, casual clothing, towels, sandals, Survival kit, books, notepads, socks, first aid kit, travel documents and some other miscellaneous. I didn’t put very much plan into this adventure not because I was careless but because I didn’t want to. I actually didn’t feel like heading out until the morning I decided to leave. I suddenly became so sick and tired of Accra that I just wanted to go away. Spontaneity; it’s my leap in the dark. It reveals my spirit and the ability to survive in my new environment. True adventure comes from spontaneity. What is the point of life if we have to plan everything to the last detail without leaving any room for wonder and curiosity? It was nothing but curiosity that led me to venture into the remotest parts of West Africa. What is it like out there? How does the food taste? The music? The people? These series of questions always keeps me on the road Journal entry - Start Date: 09/11/11

Time: 1:35PM I’m currently sitting on a mini-bus at Kaneshie headed to Elubo; the Ghana – Ivory Coast boarder town. The bus is only half full.

Time: 2:13PM I just learned from the driver it’s too late I wouldn’t be able to make it across the border today. It’s about 280km to the border and it should be closed before the end of our journey.

Why are our borders closed too early when this is not the practice at other parts of the world? Why should traders and travelers have to wait all night just to be able to cross to the other side?

Reason for travel: Curiosity. Nothing else.

Hopefully I would meet some good natured people and make some good friends. I’m optimistic.

Entry conclusion

How is freedom achieved? Continuous struggle. Is this my struggle for freedom? I was born free. No chains and shackles. I will roam as much as I can, make as many friends as I can and laugh as much as I can.

Journal entry - end

Commentary

The first entry above reveals how unprepared I was. I arrived at the lorry station late. I didn’t even think for a minute about the time I could make it pass the border. My ipod, map and books were my consolation. I could entertain myself with them at anytime and anywhere so didn’t bother much about how long I was going to wait to cross the border.

My plan was to head out West towards Ivory Coast and then continue towards the border with Liberia, Sierra Leone, Guinea, Guinea Bissau, Senegal and through to Gambia. I could then try to catch a yacht or any means possible to The Cape Verde Islands in the Atlantic Ocean. Return back to Senegal and continue East through Kayes to Bamako. I will continue further East to Burkina Faso and then onwards to Niger. I will then come South through Northern Nigeria all the way South and then head out west to Benin, Togo and then finally back home. But this isn’t as easy and accessible as I had thought. But as it turned out, the unplanned rather gave birth to more fun and adventure as I went along.

Journal Entry – Start

Date: 11/11/11

Time: 9:08AM

Currently on a bus in Abidjan, headed out to Bamako, Mali.

11/11/11. Interesting date it is today. I don’t know what it means but my guess is that some religious fundamentalist must be capitalizing on it as an indication of the end of the world. I don’t have access to the internet. It would be interesting on the blogosphere today.

I will spend the entire day contemplating as to why there’s so much poverty in Abidjan despite the often touted economic and social achievements of the city.

Entry conclusion

What lies ahead? Should I be afraid?

If we let things terrify us, life will not be worth living. – Lucius Seneca

Journal entry – end

Commentary

I didn’t write any entry the previous day because I was too exhausted and had a lot going on.

I arrived in Abidjan around 11:30AM on 10/11/11 after about 3 hours of travel in a packed saloon car from the border.

It was a frustrating night at the Elubo border waiting to cross into Ivory Coast the following morning. The sanitation at our side of the border is terrible. There was dirt everywhere, even inside the border posts. Shouldn’t border towns be as clean and well kept as the capital? Border towns are your first impression of a country. Unfortunately that was not the case in Elubo. Hopefully the area has been demarcated these days and all the structures leveled down as they did in Aflao.

A Ghanaian Gestapo immigration officer prevented me from taking photos of the Tano River as I make my final walk out of Ghana. He was very aggressive and threatened to confiscate my camera if I go ahead. I complied as I didn’t want any brouhaha with those gestapos. I obliged to his orders because I was ignorant of the regulations of the area. He didn’t offer any explanation; neither did I bother to seek one due to his unwelcoming manners. They normally would round up non-Ghanaians and extort money from them. We shouldn’t treat other ECOWAS citizens in that manner if we don’t expect their side to reciprocate. The ECOWAS treaty must be respected and regulations observed. The harassment by GIS must stop. At least we can lead the way by treating other nationals humanely.

I arrived in Elubo around 10PM after about 6 hours on the road. I met 3 Ivorians on the bus from Kaneshie who were also traveling to Abidjan. Sherif is an interesting fellow in his early thirties, Michelle and Maggie, siblings, attractive, in their mid twenties. They turned out to be very helpful.

Sherif could not understand one word in English, Michelle however is articulate in English so she served as the interpreter. Michelle is of middle height, fair, attractive and blossom. She speaks calmly but with intense expression. She was smart and articulate. We conversed very often whilst en route to Elubo. They all were very interested in my adventure, especially Sherif. Sherif became more interested after he learned I have traveled through the Middle East as he has. We were both familiar with some unique landmarks and areas. So our friendship began on the basis of our interests.

We spent the entire night after arriving at Elubo talking about politics and the situation in Ivory Coast especially the recent electoral violence. We occupied a tea seller’s joint that was happy to join our interactions though he only agreed only if we spoke quietly to avoid being over-head by any spies or sort in the area. But we are on the Ghana side aren’t we? Well. One thing was clear – all of them were not in favor of Gbagbo neither were they in support of the French intervention into the crisis. They seem not to understand why the French still plays critical role in their politics and economy. This seems to frustrate both Michelle and Sherif profusely. “Sarkozy is the devil” Michelle retorted in one of her responses. I however continued reminding them that the French intervention was necessary to bring stop to the carnage that was being perpetuated by both factions. Gbagbo was the subject of the contention and forcefully removing him was the only option. It was a coordinated international effort. The French forces that engineered the operations are second commanded to the United Nations’ UNOCI peacekeeping operation so they could as well voice their disagreement towards the United Nations. Gbagbo lost the elections but refused to relinquish power to the winner so he got what he deserves.

“We have told them to leave Cote Divoire alone and go back to France but they don’t want to go. Why eh why? Why Sarkozy why?” Michelle continued to lament as she indicates her frustration of the French presence in Ivory Coast.

Michelle and Sherif argued I am a Sarkozy henchman and a Western apologist. This gave way for more discourse as the night grew. Both agreed that they have never met an interesting character like me – out in the unknown wild just because I am curious and especially for espousing ideals they thought were too Western and Sarkozy-like.

The bus driver we came with offered us to sleep in the bus until the border is opened for passage in the morning. It was a sleepless night for me because the area was too smelly and unhygienic.

Both Sherif and Michelle demanded I stay with one of them whilst in Abidjan to facilitate my easy transit to the next country. They were very kind. I refused but they insisted. You know it’s a backpacking code; to accept accommodation or any form of assistance from anyone when on the road, first you must make sure you don’t become burden on them. You must be responsible for yourself and all your actions. They insisted and I had no option but to give it a thought.

“That is their base...hmmm!” Michelle pointed at the French Military Base, situated near the Abidjan airport, as we entered Abidjan.

I continued to resist the offer but they both continued to insist. Michelle insisted I stay with her male friends who happens to live in the middle of the city so I can have access to everything I need. Sherif also demanded I come with him to his plushy apartment. I gave it much thought and made a choice. I had wished to go with Sherif but don’t forget Sherif cannot understand one word in English whilst I also cannot express myself in French. However Michelle’s male friends were fluent in English. The drawback with staying with Sherif was that, I wouldn’t have been able to communicate with him. So I was forced to take Michelle’s offer. Sherif insisted however he would have to come with me and Michelle’s friends to see where they live. He took their phone numbers and constantly called throughout the day inquiring about my well being and whether I am okay. He was looking out for me. Such a wonderful fellow! You would be shocked to know the world is actually filled with people like Sherif and Michelle. Nice people.

The plan was to make my preparation to continue west to the Liberia border as soon as I arrive in Abidjan. I soon realized this was impossible. The war in Ivory Coast has just ended and the rebels that fought for both factions were holed up in that region. Rebellion was still ongoing. In addition to that, there were traveling warnings to Liberia due to the electoral contentions. It was intense in both countries so rebel activities at the border between them were rife. It would be dangerous for me to use that route. This situation was underpinned by Sherif’s friend who just returned from Liberia with his Liberian wife through that route. They warned me it’s dangerous to go that way. Michelle also called with similar information. What do I do then?

That’s the fun of such adventures. I pulled out my map and started to look out for new route. I thought that I could avoid Liberia for the moment and try to find my way to the next country west of Liberia which is Sierra Leone. But how do I do that when I couldn’t come through Liberia? I decided to go north to Mali and then try to find my way to South-Eastern Guinea from there and then cross the border into Sierra Leone. That would be about 2100km distance to cover. The thought of this new idea started to excite me. There would be a lot to do and see. Northern Ivory Coast? I have read about Korhogo, where Gbagbo was being held. Perhaps I could have a peak into where he’s being held. Of course not!

I had wondered if it would be possible to find a bus from Sikasso, the southernmost city of Mali straight headed to Southern Guinea. My investigation revealed impossible. I could find a mini bus headed to Conakry where I could stop on the way and join transportation to the Guinea – Sierra Leone border only in Bamako, the Mali Capital. So in the end, the only way for me to reach Sierra Leone was to go up North and then come down South on the other side. One of my personal traveling codes is to always choose the safer route no matter how long it takes.

I reached a new plan so spent the rest of the day walking about in Abidjan. I visited various areas and landmarks around the city, most notably the Plateau area. Plateau is the reflection of modern Ivory Coast or perhaps the whole of West Africa, I thought. It’s filled with skyscrapers and nice streets. I also visited Adjame, one of the slums of Abidjan. I bought my Bamako bus ticket from this area. One could easily see the remnant of the recent violence that shook the country. Their Zoomlion was not up and doing. There was littering all over the city. But one thing was very clear about Abidjan; - the infrastructure is way superior over what we have in Accra. I couldn’t find any yardstick of measurement. My opinion is that Abidjan is well built and organized than Accra.

Another thing was clear in Abidjan; poverty and unemployment was rife. The Michelle’s friends I was staying with are actually University graduates with no jobs. I really pitied them. They lamented the same frustration Sherif and Michelle did about the Ivorian society and the French dominance in every aspect of it.

It was a wonderful experience walking on the streets of Abidjan and observing hawkers’ activities. It can get very busy at some parts and very quiet at another.

If you ever end up in Ivory Coast, don’t forget to try the popular local food “Acheke”. It’s a soaked ‘gari’ with hot green pepper and fish. It was very tasteful.

I met with Sherif and his just returnee friend from Liberia at the Plateau bus station. It was a nice evening out. His friend is fluent in English so we conversed for a while and took a little walk. I felt so home and comfortable. We went to Sherif’s apartment and enjoyed a little tea. He was so happy to see me inside his home. I wasn’t wrong…there are good natured and kind people everywhere. It’s not monopoly of one society. Everyone can be nice and everyone can be bad. I thanked him for all the kindness, shacked hands as farewell and finally parted.

The nightfall arrived and I had to try to get some sleep. I will be leaving to the bus station to Mali very early so I said goodbye to Michelle over the phone. She lives far away from the center of the city so we couldn’t meet up again since we parted when we arrived in Abidjan. She sounded very sad that I had to leave the following day. She wished I could stay more and she could perhaps take me out to see the Abidjan nightlife. She was very kind in her gesture. But I am a backpacker and I have to get on the road. You can easily get attached to people and end up losing yourself in the basket of love. I thanked her for all the kindness and support.

Next episode

It would feature the experience from Abidjan to Mali and beyond with accompanied photos.