Letter from Nigeria

We’re excited to share a beautifully reflective piece from our guest writer and Client of Chesterton House, Mary Anderson, who takes us on a journey through her experiences in Nigeria. From the welcome sound of thunder after a hot day in Abuja to the challenges of climate change, literacy, and social inequality, Mary offers a thoughtful perspective on the ever-evolving landscape of this vibrant country. With deep personal insights, she touches on her work with Christian Aid, local education initiatives, and the complex tapestry of life in Nigeria today. Dive in and discover more below.

Letter from Nigeria

I hear thunder, I hear thunder,
Hark don’t you, hark don’t you?
Pitter-patter raindrops, pitter-patter raindrops,
I’m wet through, so are you.

Thunder is such a welcome sound after a hot, dusty day in Abuja, the ‘Brasilia of Nigeria’. I have always felt it was a welcome augur of the transition from dry season to rainy season. How much more were the rains needed by local subsistence farmers in the North of this vast country.

But my memories of Nigeria nearly 50 years ago are irrelevant now. At a meeting with the Christian Aid country director this week, I learnt that preparedness for drastic flooding – unwelcome rains – constitutes part of their programme management. Times they are a-changing, times they’ve already changed. Climate change, with its scorching heat and disastrous rains, is a huge problem in this ginormous country.

As Channel 5’s Michel Palin series may have shown (I haven’t had a chance to see it yet), Nigeria is a country of youth, enterprise and inequality. The average age is 18. This photo (left) shows a roadside tree nursery by a busy highway in Abuja. It is brimming with youthful trees and is emblematic of enterprise. Behind you can just see a building site where yet another new office block or palatial residence is being erected. Some of those young trees may grow up to be magnificent flame-of-the-forest trees, which abound in this city. Others may be neem trees (‘dogon yaro’, or ‘tall boys’ in the Hausa language), which provide welcome shade and fruits with medicinal oil. Some may be mango trees (the mangoes here are the best you’ve ever tasted). The nursery probably doesn’t include baobabs, with their ‘roots in the air’, but I can’t resist sharing a photo of one outside a school we visited near Kano in the North.

My reason for coming to Nigeria was to help promote Hausa mother-tongue literacy resources, which my friend and I have been developing over several years. (Hausa is the third most widespread language of Africa, after Arabic and Swahili.) We have trained teacher-trainers in Hausa Phonics methodology and more, and on this trip we made presentations to our local sponsors and to government ministers. We’ve also been privileged to see our books in classroom use, an incredibly gratifying experience. However, we were starkly reminded of the challenges ahead when we realised that the children have very few pencils – so how can they learn to write? The photo shows a ‘sand tray’ for practising basic letter shapes. At least that is a beginning.

As well as Christian Aid and mother-tongue literacy, I have also had the chance to attend a local church. Security concerns mean that I’m ’not allowed’ to wander and explore – a situation that is anathema to me, but I have to respect my generous (Muslim) hosts’ concerns. So I have twice attended the local Catholic Church of the Assumption. The first time I took home a powerful message about forgiveness, which was encouraging and uplifting.

The second time I began to make more sense of the church service. The structure was not dissimilar to the familiar liturgy at St Helen’s, Abingdon. The sermon and much of the linkage were in English, but every so often a part of the liturgy would be projected in a Nigerian language: first Yoruba, then Idoma, Tiv, Igbo and Hausa. And the Lord’s prayer was chanted in Latin. Nigeria is a Babel of languages!

I found it difficult to worship in the midst of such a multitude of impressions: imagery of the Virgin and of St Joseph as white (see the photo left), people processing in their finery, languages in profusion, and a sermon about the good Shepherd that came over as hectoring rather than guidance. It was wonderful to see Psalm 23 projected on the screens. But with its cacophony of generators and gas-guzzling vehicles, its dusty streets and endless flyovers, Abuja offers little hope of ‘green pastures’ or ‘quiet waters’. I’m not sure where or how the Holy Spirit is moving here. Maybe that is because my ears have not had time to attune, my eyes are goggling with incomprehension.

Back to Christian Aid. Whilst I have had innumerable conversations with people from the élite to the poorest, all my experiences have been anecdotal. So it was helpful to tap the wisdom of professional development strategists Temitope Fashola, Nigeria Country Director, and Victor Arokoyo, Head of Programmes. They observed that in Nigeria (unlike in India) the poor are getting poorer. Christian Aid in Nigeria has three focus areas:

  • good governance and rights, especially to education and health care
  • climate adaptation and resilience, and
  • preparedness for disaster, especially flooding.

It is clear that Christian Aid has a pivotal role in working with other agencies, and this is beginning to bear fruit. For example, investment in education in the infamous Boko Haram areas (in the north-east, near Lake Chad) has reduced violence. There continues to be significant conflict between herders and farmers, but Christian Aid is effectively facilitating dialogue about the use of land resources. Education is key to changing mindsets, in order to foster accountability and fight corruption – which will in turn result in better governance. We all have our part to play in making sure that such work can continue, so that Nigeria can become a fairer society.

After yet another sweltering day, I’m glad to report that the rains have finally come: pitter-patter raindrops, not devastating floods this time. But this is only the beginning of the rainy season.

Mary Anderson,

April 2024

Posted on: 24 September, 2024
Posted by: Guest Contributor