Uche Nworah
 Published
September 10th, 2008
IOur appointment at the Immigration office located at
Alagbon close, Ikoyi - Lagos was for 8a.m. Knowing what
Lagos traffic could be like, we didn’t want to be caught up
in the Third Mainland bridge wahala, and so with my wife in
town, I set out quite early that Tuesday morning with our
minds made up to spend the better part of the day at the
Immigration office.
We were traveling from Surulere and were quite surprised
that the traffic was smooth. There were hordes of LASTMA
traffic wardens enroute trying their very best to keep
impatient Lagos drivers in check. As we drove past Ijora
Bridge, I counted a million BRT buses whizzing past on their
special lanes. These buses and their drivers are the new
shining stars on Lagos’ many roads, helping to put a smile
to the faces of commuters, thanks to Raji Fashola, the
hardworking Governor of Lagos state.
We got to the passport office at about 7.40a.m. On hand to
receive us were the usual Lagos temporary ‘landlords’. You
will see them everywhere in Lagos where there is limited
parking space. They will direct you to particular spots to
park your car claiming that the spots belong to them. As I
was about maneuvering my car to an identified spot, a
security man in a nearby building signaled that I drive into
the compound he was guarding instead, I obeyed. The bargain
cost me N200.
It looked as if the heavens were about to shower the lands
with rain blessings and so we took shelter by the specially
constructed visitors’ shed near the entrance. Promptly at
8.00am, some gun totting but very polite immigration
officers at the gates ushered us in with big smiles. Talk
about wonders never ending. I couldn’t see the connection
between the armed guards and their civil disposition. We
were in for more surprises.
The guards consequently directed us to a waiting area inside
the immigration compound. There were long lines of chairs
under a large stretch canopy, enough to seat at least 100
people. We all sat and eagerly waited. Many of us wondering
aloud if indeed we were at the right office, especially
because of the friendly and client-oriented service we have
witnessed thus far. Not quite long after, a preacher man
appeared from nowhere and stood in front of the waiting
passport applicants and began to pray. First he prayed for
our country Nigeria, for peace and security. He also prayed
for the wellbeing of the president, we all chorused Amen at
each punctuation.
Next he prayed for all wishing to process their
international passport applications, he didn’t forget the
almighty visa officers at the embassies. He prayed that
those who had come to process their passports should find
favour at the hands of the visa officers. Everybody chorused
Amen. As the prayer went on, I noticed a bearded Alfa join
him at the front. He was waiting for his turn to pray for
the Moslems in the gathering.
When the preacher man was done, the Alfa took over. He
chanted in Arabic language and at every punctuation, the
crowd which I guessed were predominantly Christians will
chorus Amen.
Halfway through the Alfa’s prayer sessions, I began to see
the irony of the situation. A Christian preacher man and a
Moslem Alfa united for a moment in a common purpose. Devoid
of hate and bickering, they were battling for the survival
of the souls of Nigerians and Nigeria. I wondered what God
will be thinking at that moment.
Prayers concluded, neither the preacher man nor the Alfa
asked for nor received alms. As they made their way to
wherever it was they had come from, the voice of an
immigration officer awakened us all to the realities of our
mission that morning. We had come to apply for the new
Nigerian digital passport that supposedly meets U.S Homeland
security and UK Home Office specifications.
In less than no time, the officer called out people’s names
and directed them to the relevant sections. Inside the
offices, I saw energetic young immigration officers looking
smart and sharp in their starched khaki uniforms. It was
almost as if they were on a mission to restore the pride and
glory of uniformed men in Nigeria. There were rows of seats
carefully arranged to aid faster service. When it got to my
turn to have my picture captured, I took the liberty to
banter with the female officer attending to me. I told her
how surprised I was at their fast and efficient service, she
smiled proudly. Business done, it was time to leave but I
knew I owed the uniformed men and women something. Not bribe
because they didn’t ask for any like the days of old. I
needed to show my appreciation that in a long while, I was
at least being served by a government official in a manner
that every Nigerian would wish for.
I requested to see their big Oga. They took me to this
bullish looking man who saw me immediately without the fuss
of having to fill appointment/visitors forms. I quickly
thanked him for seeing me at short notice, he looked
surprised and gave me a ‘I’m doing my job’ look. When I
announced my praise and thanks mission, you could see the
surprise in his smile and the appreciation in his look. I
told him that he was doing a wonderful job with his team and
that my 30 minutes stay at the Ikoyi Immigration office that
morning has shown me that a New Nigeria is possible. That
private sector work ethics could actually be applied in the
public sector.
This was indeed another lesson in the Nigeria we all live
in, and the Nigerian society that we all yearn for. Two
weeks after my visit, as announced in the slip we received
during our application, we promptly collected our
international passports. Another and better Nigeria is still
possible and the generation to champion the change are
already here, I saw some of them at the Ikoyi passport
office.
Nworah, a company executive in Lagos is the author of The Long Harmattan Season.
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