The experience that a couple of friends and I had at the Nigeria-Benin border is one that will deeply annoy and sadden me for some time to come still.
Last year, we decide to kill two birds with one stone (I think this is the last time I’ll use this phrase… It rings… Cruel) for the new year holiday. We would travel somewhere close by to save some money and stress, while also taking the opportunity to explore a different part of the continent for much-needed exposure.
Still in this spirit, we choose to make it a road trip. You know, a total package experience. So, we hire a driver, set a date, and set on our way to the Republic of Benin.
I’m going to try to get to the interesting parts as quickly as possible here. But, before this…
My stance is, Nigerians have lost the right to just complain about anything. Anything at all. Not corruption, not extortion, not the sociopolitical state of the country, not the economy, nothing! In fact, I believe we lost this right a long time ago.
It started the second one of us did not refuse to be a party to a situation that diminishes and oppresses us as a people. And we lost the right when we let it continue until this day.
Now, our Nigerian [ECOWAS] passport may not be the sexiest one to present to immigration or customs officials in most countries around the world, but I’d be damned if it doesn’t serve us within the West African region as purposed.
Having said this…
When the ladies and I get to the Nigeria-Benin border, we go to the necessary authorities to have our passports checked and stamped. There are four windows in total – The State Security Service, the Nigerian immigration, the Benin immigration, and the Port Health Authorities.
WINDOW ONE
Us: Hello
Male official: Hello
The usual [un]pleasantries follow. He learns we’re Igbo, and starts to speak the language. I kuku don’t speak it much, but… Really nice guy. Then…
Male official: Are you students?
Us: No…
We each go on to say what we do, as requested.
Male official: If you were students, I’d have let you go free, but you have to pay N1000 each because your passport is virgin.
Say that again??
Us: Okay, if you mean “virgin” as in our passports haven’t been stamped before… Well, I guess, take a look inside them. But, even then, what’s the money really for?
There’s a lot of blah-blah-blah-ing about security, and us having never stamped our passports by road (even though one of us has), after which we decide we’ll pay the discounted fee of N1500. Just because we don’t want to waste further time (even though na so e dey start). We sha want him to know that WE ‘KNOW’.
No problems. We’re all smiles again, as we head to the second window.
WINDOW TWO
Male official: [Collects our passports] … That’s three thousand.
Us: WHAT??!! For what?
Male official: [Blabs about something about stamps…]
Us: Could you explain this again?
Male official: [With a smirk] You’re complaining. If you get to the Benin window, it’s N2000 each. Even if you go by flight… it’s already included in your flight and visa fees…
Us: [Well, you can imagine us at this point]
We go over to the third window to ask how true this all is. Long story short, we cause a stir – We only paid the first guy because we thought that was going to be the end of that, what’s the money for, and all those things.
Back and forth, and back and forth, and Mr. Second Window finally asks us to bring N1000 for all our passports. I just shook my head right now.
Anyways – *sigh* – oya, we’ll pay the N1000, even though we’re still not sure what it’s for. Mr. Window Two collects our passports, stamps them, and sends us to the third window. At this point, it’s clear what we’re about – We don’t have any more money to give. Also, “Why?”
We go back to the second window with the N1000, and Mr. Window Two refuses to collect the money. That we should “be going”.
Ooooooohhhhh, so it’s not constitutional or mandatory or anything. Well, tell us something we don’t already know. His colleague even came out to greet us. I guess this is probably how ‘fascinating’ we had become to them. We head to the fourth window, then get back in our car and continue on our jolly way.
What the actual hell?
Oh, look! It’s the Nigeria-Benin border again.
Coming back to our precious Nigeria-Benin border is the same. Only spiced with some ‘cultural rudeness’. I recorded a part of it below;
Window Two
Benin official. Same bullshit. Takes our passports, and hands them back…
Window Three
Female and Male Official: Have they stamped your passports?
Us: [Among ourselves] …He didn’t stamp it, did he…?
Male Official: [Jumps out of his seat] HEY! I’M TALKING TO YOU YOU’RE TALKING TO SOMEONE ELSE!!
Cynthia: [Retorts in semi-rabid mode. Gets calmed by friends]
Male Official: Look at the way this girl is talking to me!
This particular foolish man’s issue might be part of a story for another day. Not even the point here. Talking to me about “manner of approach”. They actually bring that up!
Anyhow, we cause another stir, don’t pay a single kobo, and we leave.
What the actual bloody hell.
In the midst of all this, people were paying and going before us. Why? Tell me why? Why??? Exactly why is it okay????
Meanwhile, the Benin official at this Nigeria-Benin border was not asking money of their own citizens o! Then I hear something like, “The guy said it’s the Nigerian officials that make them collect money from us”, or something.
And we’re… COMPLAINING????? Complaining? About what?
I’m angry, weak, tired, disappointed, and sad. This is the way we want to continue to live?
The only option we have these days is to act. Do something. ANYTHING. If you can’t fight back, you can at least speak up, or try to speak up.
It doesn’t matter why you let blatant corruption slide. You’re complicit, and consequently complacent if you don’t at least try! I‘m aware it’s no beancake to fight any kind of system. Also, I live in Nigeria!! But, haba now…
It’s unfortunate, but we’ve become all too familiar with corruption and other such inherent vices. We treat them like a toxic relative we don’t have to put up with, yet somehow they’re always in our homes, eating whatever little food and drinking whatever little water we have. In the meantime, we lose ourselves, our esteem, our values, and our dignity.
A system cannot fail those it was never meant to protect.
Just imagine if we all put ourselves out there one time each to actually challenge systemic corruption at its grassroots. Imagine how much better things could be if we fought back. Even once!
I beg, if you won’t at least speak up, do your part, or put up a little fight for the true progressive transformation of the undignified status quo… If you’ve accepted ‘your fate’, then shut the fuck up completely and get out of the way.
Almost forgot to sign off.
