Time to slow down...

Nigeria was late even in my arrival time…

In the line of immigration I got to know two guys from UK that came for the same AIESEC Conference I was responsible for, the International Development Congress. I said to myself, ‘cool, getting to know people without arriving yet…’ It is a pity that in my life good beginnings are never associated with happy endings.

The plain was more than one hour late… Afriquiyah airlines, the worst airline of the world. I still remember taking used plastic cups from the seat to be able to sit… The poor guys from UK did all the way through from London in such nightmare. I hope the way back was better…

The conference was a complete success and a total headache.

Delegates got an impressive reflective experience, full of smart conversations, unique exposure to development issues and massive amount of new ideas. However, logistics were never ready, nothing was never ready, no matter how many times you explained, asked, begged… There was no way to make it on time, and I insist, it was not about the culture, it was about mindsets.

Because of this and many other reasons, Nigeria was a place for me to feel frustrated.

I got there tired after malaria and a very enthusiastic stomach that never seems to stop giving me surprises. If you add to that a very spicy Nigerian food, the combination is not good.

I lost the connection with the Nigerian colors and life. I lost the connection with my experience. For one week I was work and work and work. For that week I was not able to perceive my surroundings, for one week I was not alive.

Today I see back and I do not regret such experience, it is an experience anyway, and it is an experience that remains me that resting is allowed and necessary.

During the conference we had an awesome day that was my awakening. We decided to go and paint zebra crossings in the streets of Abeokuta, the city were the conference was taking place. I truly believe those are the first zebra crossings ever made in the city. Many people came to us to ask what were we doing…

The traffic jam, the people screaming, the cars trying to pass no matter there were people working, the typical ‘we do not need paintings in the streets, we need new streets, go home!’, the insults, the humiliation, all of that was mixed in the same afternoon with the ‘thanks’, the little kids looking and asking what was that, what was that for, the mothers telling the kids ‘that is good, it is for you’, the teacher of the school telling us how needed it was…

I do not know if after that day somebody will notice the white lines in the streets, I do not know if some life will be saved, I do not want to be optimistic or pessimistic at that concern. I just know that we did it and it felt great. Not just because of the good intention, but because of our perseverance of staying there until it was finished, because of the team that was not able to finish and went there next morning at 6 am to finish… It felt great because some times people do not understand the rational behind some actions and sometimes we stop even when we know it is for good, it felt great because we didn’t stop.

At the conference I got to know two amazing Nigerian guys. Each one of them is a treasure of potential. Each one of them have dreams, each one of them have been making the way through life by themselves, each one of them reminded me of myself some years ago. It is sad to say that I have the perception that in their country they will not find the way to stand up and speak up. It is even sadder to realize I can do nothing about it. Louder people and not talented ones get the best opportunities there. From the bottom of my heart I wish you the best. Even if you don’t know who you are, I need to say loud that I did a pray for you, the best and only thing I could do.

The conference finished leaving me with a bad taste in my mouth and critical thoughts in my mind.

‘Does it make sense everything I am doing?’

The last days in Lagos were fast. I just remember one night at the beach drinking beer and eating roasted chicken. Lots of tables in the sand, music, bars, prostitutes, hawkers, and the sound of the sea. In the middle of that picture was I, thinking about how lonely I had become in this trip and how impacted my soul has been since I left Netherlands.

During my stay in Nigeria I had the chance to work with old friends, but I also had the chance to meet new ones. Friendship is not a place to arrive; definitely it is a path that people walk together. I truly hope I will have the chance to close some open conversations later on, conversations that mirror my current state of surprise and encouragement. Because today I am surprised of all the things I have been discovered about myself and my role in the world, and I feel encouraged to fulfill that role.

Nigeria was then and after all, a stop in my African journey more than one of my destinations.

After that week break, I continue my trip in Cameroon.

Douala is the economic capital of the country, but all the money is taken to Yaounde, the political capital. The streets of Douala are history, it seems that someone took all the little villages of the country and put them together in the empty spaces between avenues. That is how I can explain Douala.

The MC has a house and they also have internet connection! To my entire surprise, the house was very clean and organized, it seems they clean up because I was arriving – maybe my cleaning freakiness is already famous. For the first time in quite a while I feel happy to arrive ‘home’. The funny detail is that the MC is a boys’ team and they do not bother to put a door in the shower… Welcome to nudity house. I wonder what will happen next year if they get a girl in the team…

In Cameroon I had the chance to chair a conference. The new generations are very proactive and you can perceive the new times that are waiting for AIESEC in the country. I felt happy and relieved.

The conference’s name is ‘Jump In’ which made me think a lot about the metaphor I always use to explain people how I see life…

‘Do not sit down in the border to get your feet wet with life, jump in, life will contain you…’

I smiled.

Yaounde is another story. A pretty city in the hills. It took us four hours by bus to get there. We made the trip wearing a suit since we went there for external meetings planning to come back the same day in the afternoon. Of course that was an illusion. We stay overnight and wear the same suit next day for more meetings, with no tooth brush, or deodorant, or anything. It was hard to believe I was going to meet CEOs under such conditions, but I managed to smell and look decent.

Cameroon is famous for the roasted fish. I had the chance to go with the MC guys to eat it at the street in the very traditional way. I had very long time I didn’t enjoy a meal as much as I did that night. I had also very amazing conversations with a Peruvian friend that works in Cameroon. Definitely Cameroon was bringing me back to life, allowing the connection with my Khwest to return again.

In Cameroon I also had the chance to meet a German guy that speaks Spanish and just open a German restaurant in Douala (at the very beginning I thought he was crazy, who will eat German food in Cameroon? but after all I ended up eating there, isn’t?) The conversations with him went from Che Guevara to Chavez, from African problems to European solutions, from getting bored of life and running away to stay alive to how to open a restaurant in Africa.

In some moment of the conversation I was able to see myself in him, in some moment he was like a mirror of my future. I liked some things, I disliked others, and I had the chance to re-picture my own image, I had the chance to remember there is a future I have to take care about from once a while and make sure that I still like it and that I am still sure I want to get there. Today I do not remember the German name of the restaurant or owner, however today I thank both.

And in this way, happy for what I saw in the present of AIESEC in Cameroon, but even more happy for what I saw coming in my own future, I left Cameroon and lead the way to Cote D’Ivoire.

In my way, in my suitcases and in my heart I carried with me the fear of going to a country that is in war, the fear of not knowing what to expect. For the first time in my Khwest, I was completely scared. There was not time to stop, neither to go back, and I move on… Abidjan was waiting for me at the other side of the sea.

Dey.