A busy day

Day 5

The day started more positively. People were a bit more cheerful this morning and we got what breakfast the Russians had left - Nescafé and a croissant.

Our first stop was at Dankoli, a public fetish area. No priest or particular group ran it. People came from all over on motorbikes to make a plea and give a sacrifice. Thousands of pointed little sticks are stuck in the fetish as testimony for the countless prayers for a good harvest, an easy birth or a cure for an ailment. Once the prayers have been satisfied people come back and sacrifice what they promised - a goat or chicken perhaps. Traces of blood, palm wine or palm oil indicate people have been satisfied. One man put his mobile phone by the fetish pile, turned it on and a person spoke and the chap bashed 2 sticks together and left. A man and woman with a baby on her back came and he used a pointy stick then poured alcohol from a bottle to empower the fetish then he poured some oil into which the woman dipped her finger and put it to her mouth.

We stopped by the wayside for a bush loo stop then further on saw a lorry being loaded with cotton at Manjalong, a small hamlet. It’s the main product of Benin followed by cashew nuts which are sold to Indian. (I suspect palm oil is). We wandered over to a few houses. The people there spoke Kabye language but could speak a bit of French too. We took photos and played with the children who were a happy bunch. (We’d really stopped for petrol at the roadside as the driver didn’t fill up last night so he bought some plastic bottles to keep us going till the next town.)

Lunch stop was at Djougu where we got veg and couscous and a beer. The place had wifi!

After lunch there was another issue with the bus. The driver had a look at the tyres and a play with his steering wheel. We have a speed wobble.

We were stopped by the police who wanted to know why we were driving in a Nigerian bus. We’d like to know too. The guide needed to stop to ask directions to the traditional village which was a few miles down a very rough track. We past a very poor area where some small children had the distended belly sign of malnutrition. Now we are in the north there are many more mosques - apparently pressure is put on and many Roman Catholics are converting to Islam.

The fortified village of Tameka is on a hilltop. At one time there had been an outer stone wall 1.5 metres thick, with lookout places, and a further one higher up the hill. Three tribes had come here to defend themselves against slavers and their descendants continue to live in the circular mud huts with thatched roofs, protected from rain by a terracotta pot. We had a local guide who introduced us to a couple of elders who still wore the skin loincloth, carried a stick and smoked a long pipe. They had their own tobacco patch. Claire from Windsor and the two American sisters of Japanese descent asked to have photos taken with one. That was my cringe factor for the day. It was a lovely walk up the hill as there was a slight breeze and by the time we’d got back to the bus we’d walked 2.5 miles.

We got lost again trying to find our way from the main road in Natitingou to Hotel Belle Vue. It was all going so well. The guide has phoned ahead, got the food choices from Madame, we chose and were told to be on the dining platform by 7.30 when there would be soup, the main and a sweet. By the time we arrived and got our room, (and checked we had a sheet and a towel) there was no time for a shower. We all had a beer and waited in eager anticipation for our veg and chips or Cous Cous and meat. An hour later the guide said Madame had to go out to buy potatoes so dinner was a bit late. Another hour went by, the guide had hidden, and we said just please bring the soup. It arrived, followed by the stone cold veg and rice. Some time later chips arrived. I didn’t wait for the sweet. Which was lucky as weevils rushed out of it.

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