Global risks

I am now thoroughly ensconced back at my desk, roibos tea in one hand, mouse in the other. Blogging services are resumed.

One of my colleagues joked that he had expected me to have been kidnapped while I was away. This got me thinking. According to the RiskMap 2009, published by the Control Risks Group, Nigeria ranks number four in the top ten kidnapping-for-ransom countries in the world. So, you might conclude that a visit to Nigeria is not the wisest thing to do.

I disagree. I went, and I returned without incident, or even the suggestion of one. Why? Because I was miles away from the problem. Nigeria’s troubles are concentrated in the Niger Delta. The hotspot, if you like, is Port Harcourt in the east. The west of Nigeria could be a holiday destination if it wasn’t for the litter on the beaches.

On New Year’s Eve I shared a table with an Olympic swimmer. She had competed for Zimbabwe earlier that year, realising a life-long dream. Sat in conversation with her, I asked how safe it would be for me to visit. Her answer raised a wry smile on my face.

“Are you a farmer?”

“Not last I checked.”

“Then you’ve got nothing to worry about. You’re bringing foreign money into the country.”

She then made another point to me, which I’ve already alluded to. There is more to Zimbabwe than Harare. The south of the country is, I’m told, beautiful. You can go on a safari for less than $300 USD within two hours drive of the nearest airport, and stand a handbreadth from lions and giraffes.

Of course, the counter to that is if there are safer places to go where you can do similar things, why entertain the risk? Simply put, because I saw things that most people will never see. As I clambered up the side of a waterfall, I knew that the chances were strong that aside from locals, no one else ever did this, and that held a little magic for me.

On the other hand why take any money into a country like Zimbabwe, run by a man who is a blight upon freedom? If you can be sure he won’t get his mitts on it, fine...

Back in Lagos...

I've just spent the last few days a few hours north of Lagos near Ibadan, at the International Institute of Tropical Agriculture, or IITA. It is a research campus which doubles as a hostel for visitors, and is a stone's throw from the second largest city in Nigeria. From the peace and carefully presented grounds, you could be a thousand miles away.

We didn't spend that much time on campus, save to poke around and take a drive around the artificial lake they have created to help with the irrigation of their experiments. One of our company wryly suggested that given that they were meant to be researching ways to help grow substance in dry conditions, having all that irrigation on hand rather defeated the object. Missing the point, somewhat, but amusing nonetheless.

While there, we took an eleven-hour daytrip that saw us venture to Osogbo, visiting a local king and his chiefs, then to a UNESCO world heritage site: a sacred shrine to the old Yorouba religion. Much of it had been built and decorated by a woman called Suzanne Wenger, who moved to Nigeria back in the 1950s. She is now 94, and her work is very much in an African style, but as though she had been channeling Gaudi while doing it.

Now that I'm back in Lagos, the plan is to head back down to the Yacht Club for New Year's Eve. Safely back in the expat fold, removed to our little bubble. Hopefully there will be a few bubbles in my glass tonight.