04 Sep 2009 |
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In Ghana: One trip, many experiences By Levi Obijiofor EXPERIENCED international travellers often say that no two trips are exactly the same. They are absolutely right. Every trip exposes the traveller to a whole new package of experiences. Some will be good. Others will be ugly. And still others will contain a mixed bag of the pleasant and the hideous. I travelled to Accra, Ghana, early last month to attend the African Council for Communication Education (ACCE) conference hosted by the School of Communication Studies at the University of Ghana. I was scheduled to stop over in Lagos for two nights before continuing on to Accra. My journey went alright all the way from Australia to Nigeria. In Lagos, the only mild confrontation occurred when a female official at the passport control desk at the Murtala Muhammed International Airport warned me to endeavour to get a new electronic passport as the old version in my possession would be phased out before the end of the year. I informed her that the Nigeria High Commission in Australia has not been furnished with the new electronic passport, including the equipment to facilitate issuance of the passport. In that context, I told the officer that it would be unreasonable to expect Nigerians in distant countries to travel to Nigeria for the sole purpose of obtaining the new electronic passport. I asked the woman: "Why can't the Federal Government do the right thing and provide all Nigerian diplomatic missions overseas with the facilities to enable them to issue new electronic passports to Nigerian citizens in the countries under their diplomatic control?" With that brief exchange, I grabbed my passport from her and headed to the baggage reclaim carousel. It didn't take long before my luggage emerged from the tunnel. The Customs and Immigration officials were polite and friendly. "Welcome to Nigeria," some of them greeted. Two days later, I returned to the same airport and went straight to the Virgin Nigeria Airways check-in counter where I checked in my luggage to Accra. If trouble was ahead, I did not envision it. But there was a hint which I did not notice. The female staff who checked in my luggage had asked if I had any valuable items in my luggage. I replied that there was none. She then waved me away. I should have asked her why she posed the question. I didn't. The reason became clear nearly two hours later. Flight VK805 departed Lagos exactly one hour and 25 minutes later than scheduled. I was unaware of the greater shock that awaited me. When we arrived in Accra, I pulled up a luggage trolley and headed to the baggage reclaim conveyor belt to pick up my luggage. In Accra, they don't sell luggage trolleys to international passengers at the airport in the way the trolleys are sold at N100 to arriving passengers at the Murtala Muhammed International Airport in Lagos. Two airports, different courtesies! I waited in vain for my luggage. It did not arrive. I was not alone. Eight passengers who flew from Lagos with Virgin Nigeria Airways could not find their luggage. Ghanaian officials of the airline tried to pacify everyone. One man (names withheld) explained that it was normal - even if strange - for the airline to hold back some luggage in Lagos if there were too many suitcases and if the flight was full. The explanation did not make sense to us, whether the flight was full or half full. The realisation that my luggage had been lost triggered feelings of anger and ennui. I panicked. I had no item of clothing in my hand luggage. Other than the clothes I wore, I had nothing on me. That was a serious error of judgment on my part. Many troubling questions began to course through my mind. How would I sleep that night? Where would I buy alternative clothes, toothpaste, toothbrush, body cream, towel, and all those essential items at that time of the night? My head was metaphorically on fire. Only travellers who had experienced the inconvenience associated with losing their luggage would understand my predicament. The last time I lost my luggage was in July 2006. I had travelled to Penang, Malaysia, to attend the Asian Media Information and Communication (AMIC) conference. On that occasion, I was comparatively in a better situation because the flight arrived in Penang in the morning. That gave me the opportunity to check into my hotel and hurry off to a shopping centre to buy clothes and other personal items. In Penang, my luggage was brought to my hotel room two days after I arrived. Could the same thing happen to me in Ghana? I spent the night in Accra trading blames with myself for my oversight - failure to carry clothes and personal items in my hand luggage. It was the longest night I had spent. Time just stopped moving. On the morning of the next day (Tuesday, 11 August 2009), I reported at the conference venue to finalise registration formalities. Soon after the registration, I went to the airport to check for my luggage. When I arrived and introduced myself, one official at the Virgin Nigeria Airways desk took a copy of the form I completed the previous night and disappeared into a backroom. She emerged a few minutes later with a suppressed smile on her face. "Your luggage is here," she announced, expecting me to jump up in joy. She took my passport, scribbled some words in a bulky register and asked me to follow her to retrieve my luggage. After inspection by a Customs official, my luggage was released to me. The ACCE conference in Ghana was very well organised. Participants were looked after very well. Lunch comprised a variety of sumptuous Ghanaian meals. I was particularly impressed by Ghanaian officials who did not attach too much importance to haughty security protocol. For example, during the opening ceremony, the Ghanaian vice president was introduced to the delegates AFTER the conference chairperson had been introduced. That would never happen in Nigeria. Our political leaders are not strong on humility. I observed also that no armed soldiers or mobile policemen stood beside the vice president in the conference hall. Indeed, no armed security personnel could be found inside the conference hall or at the entrance to the hall. Quite considerably, I noticed that roads leading to the conference venue were not shut down just because the Ghanaian vice president was at the ACCE conference venue. In Nigeria, our overzealous security officials would shut down airports and the airspace many hours ahead of the arrival of the president or vice president, who might still be at home having shower or breakfast. In Nigeria, we like to indulge in unnecessary security protocol such as stopping all aircraft from taking off or landing at the airports just because the president or vice president is about to board their private aircraft. We don't care about inconveniences we cause to the less privileged people as long as the president and vice president are comfortable. The Ghanaians behave differently; they see their politician leaders as normal people who were elected to serve the people, not politicians to be served by the people. I had a fairly good flight back to Australia except for an incredible turbulence that lasted for about three hours and disrupted the aircraft between the Indian and Singaporean airspace. The turbulence was quite severe. Drinks fell off plastic cups. Tray holders rocked sideways. The aircraft shook interminably. Occasionally the plane would go up a notch and then drop suddenly. You felt as if the contents of your stomach had been emptied forcibly. At that point, my heart was getting closer to my mouth. It was such a frightening experience. At one point, the captain of the aircraft - a Boeing 777 (300ER) - instructed the cabin crew to stop serving food and drinks. He also directed the crew and all passengers to return to their seats and to fasten their seat belts. He said the aircraft was going through a zone of instability and that the turbulence would last for some hours. After nearly 23 hours of flying, I arrived in Brisbane at exactly 12.40am local time, on Monday, August 24, 2009. That was an unholy hour of the night. But the time of my arrival did not prevent the extraordinary harassment to which I was subjected by a Customs officer at the Brisbane International Airport. That account will be the subject of this column next week.
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