Mimy was so worried about me that she offered to drive me to Ojota Motor Park, where I could find bus to Oshogbo. We made an appointment at 8 and at 8:30am she picked me up from the petrol station next to my Lagos hotel. I also found out that I had a wife on that petrol station, although she had been hiding from me – one of the station attendants called me out as I was waiting for Mimy.
Mimy had been making calls regarding where best to pick up transport to Oshogbo. Someone told her at MRS petrol station and half an hour later, traffic wasn’t too bad, we pulled over at the MRS petrol station – the motor park was a few hundred meters beyond it. Mimy’s daughters went to boarding school in Oshogbo and so did Sola’s daughter.
At the motor park we of course were surrounded by men calling us to join their cars, offering a private transport to Oshogbo (“drop”). The minibuses have wooden signs on the roofs pointing out their destinations. Mimy was taking the transport very seriously, she lamented the state of the car, she didn’t like the N2050 price. But the minivan was alright, the price normal. And best of all, it was loaded with stuff so much that it had only 3 passengers, the stuff and the cake. Happy 40th birthday Dudu.
A man tried to bring up baggage fee, N1000, and I even started talking it down to N500, Mimy asked with disgust “which luggage payment?” but he was almost immediately silenced by his motor park colleagues.
We snapped a few pictures with Mimy, she said she wanted to have photos in a motor park and she left and the minivan left shortly afterwards.
The whole time I was scared I would destroy the cake. Or the car will brake so hard that the cake will fall off the seat. The cake was next to me, one passenger in front by the driver, another on the extra seat, the foldable one by the sliding door. The cake was important.
The road went fast, it wasn’t too crowded except when passing via Ibadan. At times it was very wide, 3-4 lanes except there were no lanes marked. The vegetation was very green. We reached Oshogbo after maybe 4 hours.At one road stop one of my fellow passengers buys snacks. Plantain chips, fried plantain (looks black) and something I asked him about. It’s wara – cheese! Fried cow cheese! He gives me some and it’s delicious.
My Bradt Guide to Nigeria, 3rd edition, is from 2012. The hotel I picked in town no longer exists. I used a combination of Google Maps and Jumia Travel – a West African booking.com – to find a suitable hotel. As far as I know Jumia Travel started in Nigeria as an app called HotelOga and it was developed and maintained by a Polish man, who later had to flee Nigeria, allegedly being chased by Nigerians who claimed he had owed them money. Who knows.
I take okada to Centre Point Hotel in Oshogbo, Jumia says the rooms are N5000 for a single room with AC. The okada driver says the ride will cost N100. He rides the bike into the hotel parking space and when I give him N500, he gives me back N200 change and says it’s impossible the ride can cost N100 it’s “far”. It’s 1.7km. I just take the N500 from him and enter the reception. He follows.
The receptionist took out the price list and my 5k room costs 6k. I try negotiating but she doesn’t want to talk. I showed her the Jumia prices on my phone she said “we have to work on the internet prices to change them” and I know Jumia isn’t booking.com, that booking there is done manually by the app operators (in Ghana they called me after almost an hour telling me the room booked wasn’t available) so my chances are slim. She nevertheless called her boss. “Hello Sah, a 6k room for 5500?” /Voice in the receiver/ “Bikeman. OK.” Was the okada man getting money for bringing me there? I asked. She said no. But the okada man was still sitting in the reception, laughing silly.
I give him N100 when I was leaving the reception, he said “goodbye”.
The room was OK, I left immediately to get food. I chose restaurant in the hotel, I wasn’t sure where to eat in town, also I wanted to see the Osun sacred groves – the reason I was in Oshogbo, one of Nigeria’s two UNESCO world heritage sites – the same day.
I had pounded yam and vegetable soup and meat (in Nigeria meat means beef) and a bottle of lager. The vegetable soup was very tasty but the portion was tiny. On the other hand the portion of pounded yam was quite big. There was stew (peppery sauce) with the meat but it wasn’t particularly good. The food cost N2000 and I even did complain about the portion size. The beer was N500 for 0.6l bottle.
I walked to the sacred forest. The mobile internet was down in town so I couldn’t estimate the distance to the place. The Bradt Guide map of town was very vague, marking only major streets and no scale. To add to my phone issues, since Cotonou charging of my phone takes forever – last night it only reached 67% of charge by the morning – and I am now on 37%, of my two cables, one is partially broken, the other – bought in Cotonou, in beautiful blue – charges extremely slowly. I take powerbank and the blue cable and I walk out. It quickly turns out the blue cable is also broken and doesn’t connect, the powerbank has barely any energy left. I put the phone onto the airplane mode and keep walking.
And I walked over an hour. And Oshogbo is a hilly city. And I am a star in Oshogbo, seems like everyone stares at me, people shout oyinbo, mothers show me to their children. And I walk saying “good afternoon” to everyone I pass. There are quite many muslims in Oshogbo and I get strangely very many “hellos” and “his” from the muslim women in their shops. Schools have ended their day so there are many children walking home, some of them pass me several times only to greet me. And when they greet me they make a gesture as if they wanted to kneel down on one knee. It’s a pleasant, if long, walk.
Just before the forest I see an advert. An alcoholic drink is welcoming me to sacred “grooves”. I ask a man sitting by the roadside, an okada man it turns out for direction, he wants to take me there on his bike, when I refuse he just says “go now” and points the direction.
The forest begins, the road becomes quiet, there are many monkeys around and the road is adorned with weird sculptures.
Most of the sculptures in Oshogbo ar work of Susanna Wagner who came from Austria and is credited with reviving ancient Yoruba deities and gods. She was also an artist and her works are on display in the sacred forest.
The entry is paid, foreigners N500, Nigerians N200, mobile phone photography N1000. The ticket man asks me if I want a guide, I say I don’t know, depends on the price. He calls a woman. She comes to me and says the price is up to me. When I ask her for the price anyway and she refuses to tell me, I say fine, I don’t need s guide. She says I’m not allowed to enter without a guide. I point to a young couple who just left through the exit, she says they are citizens so they can walk alone. To this I turn my back to her and enter the forest. Let her chase me.
There are very few statues in the forest but the place is quite atmospheric. Those that look like they could be made by Susanna are quite weather-beaten. Of course now without a guide I have no idea what the statues represent. I approach a clearing by the river where what seems like a temple, later I was told it was Osun temple, Osun being the god of water.
Under the roof shades there people sitting, one woman shouts to me “oyinbo drop money”. I say I already pay the entrance fee and I approach the temple, thinking maybe I go inside and there are murals on the wall so maybe I can see them. A man holds out a hand to me saying “stop and out”.
So I walk around, there are some statues of maybe Osun him-herself.
I walk around the temple, it seems locked anyway.
I go on, there is a statue of some monster, by it sits a man, who only speaks Yoruba but the gesture says “give me something”.
I walk on, cross a bridge and… leave the forest.
I walk back, the man shows I should turn left and I do and I walk out on the main road and return to the ticket office. There the man tries to tell me there is more to see but I ask him about that money by the temple and refusal to let me closer. He says they are “traditional worshippers” and he even seems concerned by their behaviour but I’m sure nothing will be done about it.
I go to see one more clearing with some statues, I enter through what looks like a throat and walk around. One pair of stones is particularly cute, they look as if with love at a growing tree between them.
I walk back to town. In the forest, behind me walk two small boys. They whisper behind me “sah, give me money.” Their names are Youssouf and Abdoulaye, they say they are 13 but they look like they are 9.
Outside the forest there is a sign towards “palace” so I walk that direction. A man who showed me to the forest, the okada man, calls me and reminds me he showed me how to get to the forest and I should give him something.
I buy a bottle of water. A 0.75l bottle of water costs N50, in this shop it costs N60. I give the woman N100 and she disappears in the shop and after a while she comes out and asks me what else do I want. I want my change!
I see a woman selling kola and bitter kola nuts. A bag of 3 or 4 bitter kola nuts is N100. I don’t want to buy them, the woman starts shouting at me in Yoruba.
The street towards the palace passes a marker which is a usual colourful affair. There is also a juju section. A man has a box full of dried chameleons and a basket full of live lizards. I walk and walk and walk, looking for the house of Susanna Wagner.
It’s there, as weird as it can be.
I enter, the doors are open, inside is full of sculptures. I hear voices upstairs I walk up, a woman asks me to wait, calls a mama. After a while the mama comes out, apologizes for waiting – it’s hot so she said she was sitting naked – and lets me into a room also full of sculptures. She says she is preparing for water rituals and she is quite talkative and wants to talk about Susanna and her life, she knew her and do I have any questions? I feel stupid because I don’t even know what to ask. I give her N500, she asks me to sign a guestbook, then disappears in another room then comes back with a writing pad and I see it’s no guestbook but some sort of diary, written in Yoruba. I sign it.
Outside I stop okada and ask to be taken to the palace. I remember Bradt Guide mentions some barely recognisable structure.
Instead I am taken to a functioning palace, complete with an ataoja – the king. I enter the premises and I see three nicely dressed men and I wanna take picture but first I ask if I can look around, they tell me to ask the king. The king is sitting under the arcades, on a wooden, well, throne. I’m not sure how to behave in front of a king so standing I explain my mission, the king doesn’t speak English so a woman standing next to him translates and speaks back to me. I’m allowed around.
Next to the big building where the king was sitting there is a nicely painted smaller building, I’m guessing these are wives’ chambers, a man sitting on a bench chats with me, asks me what’s my mission, asks me what I’ve brought with me for him. Next an elderly woman comes out and asks in Yoruba what’s my mission so I speak again. The man wants my number so I give it to him. I forgot his name.
I walk away and want to take a photo but the man is waving “no” so I come out, outside the gate a row of women begging.
I walk on and see a bar. I promptly enter and order a bottle of 33. It’s only N250, 0.6l. From bar I take okada for N100 to the hotel. When we arrive the driver complains it’s too far for N100 so we settle for N150.
I try to charge the phone a bit and after dark I walk out to find food. Coming back to hotel I saw a cafeteria called “Captain Cook”. I stop okada, the driver seems knowledgeable and he names three different cafeterias but we settle for Captain Cook, N150.There are quite a few people inside, I eat yam porridge and chicken. Yam porridge is my 4th favourite food in Nigeria. I just like yam. This one tastes alright but not spectacular. The best yam porridge I ever had was in a chop joint in London. The chicken is good. N1050 with bottle of water. I take two more bottles to the hotel, N200.
The city is pitch black with no street lamps operating, okada costs N150.
The next day I spoke with Sola and I told her how so many people asked me for money and she said “Oshogbo is the worst.” What she meant is apparently civil servants – and here civil servant is one of the best jobs you can have – have not been paid in Oshogbo for the past 2 years.
There is quite a lot job adverts on the streets, mainly for sales rep. Advertised salary is 40-45k/month, I saw 40-55k/month for a computer operator and for “help” or sales assistant it’s N3500/day.
Coming back to Maman 