Weeks back I went with my old school friends to Ibadan for a wedding.
It was the wedding of the daughter of one of us.
There were 5 of us billed to go from Lagos.
TBabes, the most adventurous of us, suggested we go by train, as we had been planning an all-girls train trip to Ibadan since trains began to function again.
“It’ll be fun, let’s be girls again…”
She was referring to that period in the 80s; when as boarders of one of the Unity schools up north, we travelled from Lagos upnorth to our school, Federal Government Girls College, Bida, Niger state.
Back then, the Unity schools up north often resumed the same day and often vacated the same day; so, schools would book several coaches for their students to travel back to school or go home. The coaches were lined back to back.
Then, there could be as many coaches as 22 or more, carrying students from Lagos, Abeokuta, Ibadan, Ilorin, all the way to colleges up north-Niger state, as in our case, Kaduna, Kano, Katsina, Bauchi, Adamawa…
It was always fun to interact with other students on our two day train journey as we moved from coach to coach.
Our parents had nothing to fear; they sent us off with “read your book.”
There was no police escort, no armed guards…no fear that we wouldn’t get to school when we should. They hadn’t heard about Boko Haram abducting girls and killing the boys; they knew nothing of robbers or bandits attacking children.
I didn’t want to feel like a girl again, when Tbabes suggested a train ride to Ibadan.
Boxy, agreed with me. In fact she cited a news story we’d carried on our site, thisislagos.ng, days earlier reporting several hours delay of a Lagos \Ibadan train. We had just heard of some victims captured by Boko Haram since March of 18, 2022 were still being held by Boko Haram.
Eventually, we all agreed to go but with a caveat;
Ayo, our coordinator sent us a WhatsApp message:
“Don’t announce our journey to anyone apart from your immediate family.”
“Delete all necessary info from your phones”
“Don’t dress flashy, no jewelry…
We gulped down our present fear of kidnappers and tried to enjoy the journey…it was fun.
But like many things in Nigeria, we do the right thing but with wrong motives.
We had wanted to book ahead for the ride. This means, when the five of us wanted to book for first class, the train admin refused. We were told to be at the station at 7am with a promise that the train would leave at the dot of 8am.
At N6,000 per head in first class, we thought this was too cheap. We paid cash; wrong again, because as we all know, these would not all be accounted for. Now, if we don’t book ahead, our money isn’t locked down. This sort of “lockdown” is what public services like this help to cover their overheads.
But I’m not an expert in economics. The small buying and selling I have done so far tells me that to maintain the structure, service and continuous existence of this corporation, N6k per head, in cash…in today’s Nigeria, won’t cut it.
What’s more, there were some “officials” lurking around giving you side glances for “expedited services.” Such monies would never go to the government.
We made it early to the station. The ticketing area was partially full, not the bustling excited crowd I thought I would find considering the train had been so much touted as one of the best things to have been reborn in Nigeria.
The train pulled out of the station that Saturday morning at the dot of 8am! We hooted… because we didn’t expect it.
It didn’t pick up speed like I initially thought it should but as we slowly crawled out of the station, past Yaba, past Oshodi, past Agege, Iju…I saw the back side of our city…it is filthy!
There are miles and miles of filth, waste; plastics, nylon bags of different colours chocking the drains. Some forming pools of stagnant putrid thick goo lazily crawling along the tracks. There’s waste not just of humans but animals. Mounds of heaps meandering as landscape rises and falls.
There were people scampering away from the rail tracks; as if they didn’t believe trains now work. There were several people openly defecating on the side of the tracks around Oshodi; some sneered at you until you looked away. There were traders, pulling out their wares from the tracks as the train approached.
But as we travelled outside Lagos, the scenery was a beauty! There are kilometres of lush green as far as the eyes can see.
Thankfully, we made it to Ibadan. I would have loved to stop here but weeks later, I took another train ride from London to Essex. Same two hour ride…well, I dropped from one line to another. The point I’m making here is that I took a long distance train ride.
I wanted to pay cash but they said to go top up my card or I should pay the exact amount for a card I had to tap in.
There were about four cameras facing the staff issuing the tickets. There are huge white boards detailing which train goes where. For people like me who even with huge signs still miss their way…
I finally found the right platform and boarded my train. I soon settled in to enjoy the ride.
It picked up speed rapidly. It was fast.
It was so fast my ears were ringing from the howling wheels as it grinded hard on the tracks.
I looked out for some guy shamelessly dropping hot poop along the side of the tracks like I saw at home; I wanted to see pieces of garbage lining the tracks…I wanted something to prove that here, even “in the abroad”, they do the same in their large cities…
I just might find it someday.