QUICK RECAP:
Libreville Airport. Bellview Airlines. LBV-LOS. Martin. Flight delayed. Cameroon Airlines. LBV-DLA. Refuelling stop. €400 deal. Passport stamped. Pilot befriended. Martin returns. €10,000 CASH. You can’t board, A Bomb? Show US! Loud Gasp. Flight boarded again. Take off. €500 again, Boarding Pass, Douala finally!
CHAPTER NINE:
Cameroon, The land of Paul Biya!
Nestled between countries like Nigeria, Chad, Central African Republic, Republic of the Congo (Not Democratic Republic of the Congo), Equatorial Guinea and Gabon, Cameroon is a country of 20 million people, and has given the world some exceptional footballers like Samuel Eto’o, Roger Milla, Thomas N’kono and Marc-Vivien Foe, who tragically passed away after collapsing on the pitch, during a Confederations Cup match against Colombia.
Cameroon had also become synonymous with Paul Biya, the President of the country, who is now 86 years old and into his 45th year of running the country. But neither football nor its long serving President makes Cameroon stand out from the rest of its neighbours. After all, many African countries have produced top quality footballers, and not to forget, I had boarded the flight from Gabon, which was to be run by President Omar Bongo for 42 years, before his eventual demise in 2009.
Historically, Cameroon used to be a German colony which was later divided between the British and the French after the first World War. Something you would do back in your school days, when you brought chapati and potato curry for tiffin, but ended up with a surplus chapati and no curry left. You would tear the chapati into two and reluctantly share it with your two classmates, making sure they don’t get a drop of the curry!
This divide between the English speaking and the French speaking population of Cameroon has stayed ever since, and has often erupted into large scale and violent unrests. This divide is also the reason that Cameroon, a sizeable county in Africa, is considered both a part of West Africa (English Speaking) and Central Africa (French Speaking) but is, in reality a part of neither.
My friend and colleague BS had been living in Cameroon for quite a few years and was a very charming personality, apart from being an ardent fan of Bollywood movies and Amitabh Bachchan, in particular. I had met him a couple of months back and he was exceptionally hospitable, even more so after a few drinks.
He received my call at the first ring and in a friendly manner, started by blasting me in chosen Hindi words for taking so long to call. It was clear that he was concerned and had expected me to call sooner. I quickly explained that there were other things in hand, which needed to be taken care of, and he got it without the need for too many details.
He asked me a few times if I had managed to stay away from the immigration area so far, and if I could continue that way for another 30 odd minutes. Then he explained that he had already sent someone called Marcel to the airport, who should be able to take care of the situation in hand. He was also generous enough to ask me if I had enough cash in hand and comforted me by saying;
“If you are short, don’t worry, just say so to Marcel and I will handle it. We can always settle it later.”
When I told him that I was in fact, carrying a black trash bag with €9,500 equivalent in it, there was a few seconds’ pause over the phone. He gave me a number and asked me to call Marcel right away and cautioned me for the third time probably; “lay low for a while Bhai, let Marcel handle it”.
I called Marcel’s number as soon as I hung up with BS. He sounded like he was eagerly waiting for my call. I explained to him where I was, and asked him where he was, and if he wanted me to come over. He asked me emphatically to stay where I was, and promised to be there soon. I rearranged my bags and prepared myself for the final showdown.
All this while, Wilfried had stuck with me and had been very friendly. Marcel was punctual and showed up within the next few minutes. He exchanged greetings with Wilfried and with a glance towards me, shook his hand. I didn’t fail to notice the currency note tucked in his palm, as it switched hands. Wilfried didn’t seem to mind, and with a wide smile and a little bow of the head, uttered the words “Au revoir, patron” and took his leave.
Marcel signalled me to sit down and sat on the bench next to me. He asked for my passport and then asked me if I had a preference for any specific airline, to fly me to Lagos. I apologetically explained that I didn’t have the faintest idea which airlines flew this sector, and wouldn’t mind any airline, as long as the chances of my reaching Lagos were reasonably higher than that of the plane crashing on its way.
Marcel let out a hearty laugh and with a dramatic disposition, announced;
“In that case my friend, you will fly the best and most advanced airline in entire Africa; the newly launched Virgin Nigeria!”
Although it was an airline with its base in Nigeria, I could sense that African pride in his gleaming eyes. I had read about the new joint venture formed between the Nigerian Government and Virgin Group to launch Virgin Nigeria, which was set for a launch a month or so earlier. With an equally dramatic style, I replied;
– “In that case my friend, Virgin Nigeria it will be!”
We laughed out loud and patted each other’s shoulder as a sign of our new found friendship. Then I followed him out of the staff room and he even offered to carry my black bundle, something that I refused politely.
While we were walking, to where I was yet to know, he whispered; “Please let me do the talking”.
Since the tone indicated less of a request and more of an instruction, I nodded in approval.
We walked to the area where two gentlemen were seated at a desk, with a small hand written paper with the words ‘Immigration’ placed on it. Marcel greeted them like an old friend as they took some time to exchange niceties. I felt safe!
In time, Marcel pointed towards me and from what I gathered from their conversation, with about sixty percent confidence, was that Marcel would be going to buy a flight ticket for me and I would be spending the time with these two friendly gentlemen. Everyone seemed happy and they even gave me a chair to sit on, while I waited for Marcel’s return.
It was a little awkward to sit there without saying anything, and the two guys must have felt the same. So they started making some small talk and asked me if I liked Africa and what I knew about Cameroon. I eased up and shared my knowledge of Roger Milla, Rigobert Song and that ‘goal that shook the world’ by Francois Omam-Biyik against Argentina, captained by none other than Diego Maradona.
In a matter of minutes, we became friends and they were pleasantly surprised to meet an Indian, with so much knowledge about Cameroon and African football. Then they casually asked me where I lived and how long I had stayed in Africa. And in that moment of happiness, I spontaneously answered “Libreville!”
“Ohhh! But Sir, today there was no flight from Libreville.”
They looked at each other. Oh Dear! What was I thinking?
I hesitated for a moment, before replying;
“I live in Libreville, but I am not coming from Libreville now”
They looked quizzically at each other and one of them could only say “Huh?”
“I mean I am now flying from Dakar”
“Oh! But…”
Before he could ask whatever was in his mind, Marcel made a re-entry, just like my guardian angel, and did a fist pump with the guy who was about to ask the question. He had even brought along four small bottles of Orangina, a very popular carbonated fruit drink, now owned mostly by Suntory Beverages.
Everyone took a bottle of Orangina each, raised it with a loud ‘Salut!’ and started sipping right away. That unasked question was long forgotten and buried.
Soon after, Marcel handed over my passport to them and amidst all this joy and laughter, they stamped it without even asking for my boarding pass. We even gave each other a man hug before I parted ways, and I promised to support the ‘Indomitable Lions’ in the next African Cup of Nations, to be held in Egypt the following year.
Marcel looked particularly impressed and happy, as we walked away from the immigration desk. He finally displayed the flight ticket from Virgin Nigeria, almost in the manner a man in deep love would unveil his first precious gift to his lover. And I must admit, the feeling of happiness at the sight of this ticket, was equally comparable for me.
Everything looked well set now, thanks to Marcel. The only thing that remained to be done, was to check-in and board this ‘best and most advanced’ Virgin Nigeria flight!. I checked for the flight timing, there was almost an hour left for the flight to depart.
