₦airaland Forum

Grab your sits, Ladies and Gentlemen, usually I don't do these but for history purposes and to enlighten others who want to come to Ghana or relocate this is for you.

Follow your heart and let faith lead you. Nothing is easy but keep pushing.

Start the story and be ready to end it well.

Now let's begin the story.

How I moved from Port Harcourt to Ghana!!!

Your comments will encourage me to continue. Thanks

I've bought the front row ticket. Hoping to read an amazing tales from you.

MufasaLion:
I've bought the front row ticket. Hoping to read an amazing tales from you.

I'm well seated behind you... Awaiting the full gist!!!

wealthtrak:
This is the period when Ghanaians aren't smiling at the mention of Nigerians especially with some members of the Ibo tribe from the East of Nigeria who have over the years been arrested by the Ghana Police for heinous crimes such as the recent bank armed robberies by 5 Ibo men, kidnappings for ransom, and more, with the leading opposition party leader Dr. Hassan Ayariga who lived and schooled in Nigeria in the past brutally calling out the Ibos for violating crime laws and in Ghana especially on a recent live Ghana television interview in June 2025. The viral interview video is still online.

Moving to Ghana MUST be legit and verifiable because their immigration officials are now getting stricter.

So, OP factor these issues into your convo.

Ghana you hear on the news is different from the Ghana you will see when you land.

Ghana is a very peaceful country, nobody will harass you in Ghana they are not like Nigerians that look for trouble unless you start misbehaving.

I have lived there before precisely Accra for good 2 years plus. To be sincere with you if you live in Ghana for one month you won't like to live in Nigeria again.

A lot of Nigerians are doing well there, majority of them married Ghanaians.

Even the ones that are into Cyber games can never think of relocating back to 9ja, because you can't compare Ghana police or immigration with Nigerian police.

Passport? Done.
A door has been opened and no man can shut it.

But my spirit whispered: "Prepare fully."
So I listened.
I went for my Yellow Card ,a small detail, yet in the spirit realm, it's often the small doors that hold big keys.
I had read how some were delayed, held back, stopped at the edge of their breakthrough.
That won’t be my story. Not this time.

At Port Health Facility, the process was swift , see grace at work.
But my heart was heavy…
If the land flowed with true justice and vision, would I be leaving?
But destiny calls and when it calls, you answer.

From there, I journeyed to Waterlines Park.
If you know that place, you know it’s a place of transition.
A place where the old ends… and the road ahead begins.
I booked a one-way ride to Lagos.
No turning back.
No fear.
No doubt.
He that began this good work in me is faithful to complete it.

I boarded YSG, greeted by calm faces, a peaceful bus.
Even in motion, I felt covered.
God goes before me.

This journey is spiritual.
Stay tuned. There’s more to unfold.

africaBlogworld:
Passport? Done.
A door has been opened — no man can shut it.

But my spirit whispered: "Prepare fully."
So I listened.
I went for my Yellow Card — a small detail, yet in the spirit realm, it's often the small doors that hold big keys.
I had read how some were delayed, held back, stopped at the edge of their breakthrough.
That won’t be my story. Not this time.

At Port Health Facility, the process was swift — grace at work.
But my heart was heavy…
If the land flowed with true justice and vision, would I be leaving?
But destiny calls — and when it calls, you answer.

From there, I journeyed to Waterlines Park.
If you know that place, you know it’s a place of transition.
A place where the old ends… and the road ahead begins.
I booked a one-way ride to Lagos.
No turning back.
No fear.
No doubt.
He that began this good work in me is faithful to complete it.

I boarded YSG — greeted by calm faces, a peaceful bus.
Even in motion, I felt covered.
God goes before me.

This journey is spiritual.
Stay tuned. There’s more to unfold.

This is promising to be an interesting thread. Looking forward to read more.

MufasaLion:
This is promising to be an interesting thread. Looking forward to read more.

Thank you for your encouragement.

I booked a night bus ticket the plan was simple: get to Lagos by morning.
YSG had already informed us that, due to the Local Government elections in Lagos on Saturday, the buses would leave early around 5 PM to beat the expected roadblocks and delays.

Our journey began from Port Harcourt, passing through Owerri, Onitsha, and Delta.
By God’s grace, the road was smooth.
A few moments of traffic tried to test our patience, but we kept moving.
Then came Edo State , the roads turned rough, the journey tested our endurance.
But we pushed through.
We weathered the eye of the storm.

Past the struggle, we entered Ore with the strength of overcomers.
And soon, we were cruising through Sagamu hopeful, faithful, not knowing what lay ahead…
But still holding on to faith in God.

By 6:25 AM, we arrived at Ojodu Berger, Lagos.
And then...
It began.
The very thing we had tried to avoid.

But that’s a story for another page.

P.s: It was night bus so I took a night picture. Cheese!!!!

Stay tuned.

One of the biggest lessons that hit me on this journey?
Even when you hurry, destiny has its own timing.

Despite our early departure, we got caught in the lockdown at Ojodu Berger.
We could see Lagos the city was right in front of us but the border was sealed.
Police had already locked it down because of the elections.
There were vehicles ahead of us, everyone restless.
Some were cussing.
Some tried to squeeze their way in.
Then a warning shot pierced the air.

At that moment, I knew it was serious.

But as a Port Harcourt guy man, hearing a gunshot didn’t faze me. I jumped down from the bus and started asking questions.
Went straight to the frontline to see with my own eyes whether it was Temu or Alibaba we were dealing with 😂.
Don’t mind me.

I quickly made arrangements with the bus boy to carry my box to a nearby park.
I believed if I could just cross the border on foot, I'd find a vehicle or bike to take me to Mile 2.
I’d heard those “last-minute Lagos bikes” in the news this was my chance to meet one.

So I began trekking into Lagos.

Omoh...
No vehicle.
No bike.
Only sun, dust, and aching legs.

I considered going back.
But when I looked behind me, I’d come too far.
And when I looked ahead, all I saw was more Lagos.
To make it worse, my phone went off Google Map gone.

But life has a way of sending angels in human form.
While heading towards Ikeja, I met a good Samaritan who offered not just his company, but a power bank too.
At that point, it felt surreal but it was exactly what I needed:
A moment of hope,
A little motivation,
A reason to keep going.

Just when I was ready to give up the trek, that last-minute Lagos bike appeared.
It had a passenger already, and the price wasn’t smiling but I didn’t have any options.
I hopped on.

And with the wind on my face and hope in my chest, we zoomed off...

Heading to Mile 2. On the road to Maza Maza.

Stay tuned.

Drop a like to motivate this real-life tale of grit, grace, and Godspeed.

1st pic : Ojodu Berger
2nd pic: The great Trekking journey begins

While riding the bike towards Mile 2, I noticed something the road was almost empty.

The Lagos Local Government elections had turned the usually chaotic streets into a quiet stretch.
But even in the middle of all that calm, I saw plenty of young men playing football by the roadside.
Life goes on.

By God’s grace, the bike dropped me safely at Mile 2.
I paid my fare, but that was just the beginning.

At Mile 2, I was greeted by the Agberos.
If you know Lagos, you know what that means.
They hailed me loudly — some calling me “Obi Cubana’s bouncer.”

Of course, I understood the game .
These greetings come with the silent code: Drop something.

So, as the “Obi Cubana bouncer” they had crowned me, I parleyed with them, dropped a little cash, and asked for directions to Maza Maza.
They pointed me to the next bike, and I hopped on.

When I got to Maza Maza, I headed straight to Young Shall Grow Park.

Outside the park too I was met by group of Agberos who wanted to try the Obi Cubana stunt. I laughed in my mind.
As they wanted to chant, na so I chant dem port Harcourt chanting na.

As dem hail me Obi Cubana, Me I hail dem Senior men, your face show, your shoe shine, your clothes starch, I salama for Obama.


Na so dem use shun me ooo.
Then I entered Ysg park in Maza Maza
There, I dropped my details with the staff so that when the luxury bus arrived, they could keep my bag safe.
With that settled, my next mission was clear: find a cheap and close hotel.
I was on a budget every naira counted.

After asking around, I found one that fit the bill. Not too costly but affordable and at least I dey see females around. You know what I mean.
Checked in.
Shut the door.
Collapsed into sleep.

Tomorrow, the real journey to Ghana would begin.

P.s : The picture was taken in the hotel in Amuwo Idofin after a lot of trekking, my legs were about to explode.

Stay tuned , next stop: Lagos to Accra.

Continue brother

So we continue…

The night at the hotel passed quickly.
I woke up with that mix of excitement and determination you feel when the road ahead leads to a new chapter.

Before I proceed…

Let me digress a little to talk about my hotel in Amuwo.
For those who know Amuwo, you know the environment.
The hotel I booked was neat and clean surprisingly refreshing for the area.

When I checked out, I told the porter I’d give them a good review because my night there was cool, peaceful, and I prayed before stepping out that Sunday morning.

Now, to place things in order:
This journey started 11th July in Port Harcourt,
I entered Lagos on 12th,
And now, 13th, I was leaving Lagos for Accra.

Initially, I wanted to book YSG to Accra, but the fare was high.
So, I chose Chisco, more affordable, but as I would soon find out, that came with its own price.
I had booked on Saturday to avoid last-minute wahala.

Sunday morning, I left the hotel for the Chisco Park.
And, as you know how parks can be rowdy, agberos everywhere, passengers heading to all corners of the country.

I bought food to eat while waiting and informed the staff about my trip. They told me to just relax.

The scheduled 8:00 AM departure started shifting.
By 9:00 AM, I was still seated, and the Port Harcourt in me started asking questions before dem go “whine my nipple” (as we say back home).

Turns out, because of bad reviews from previous Accra trips, many people were boycotting Chisco.
I even advised the staff to work on their customer feedback and rebuild confidence. Whether them go gree listen, I don’t know.

Anyway, with low passenger turnout, I sat there until 10:00 AM.
Finally, another passenger for Accra showed up, and we were told we’d be taken to the Chisco head office in Maza Maza to join other travelers.
Relief!

By 11:30 AM, we were boarding bikes , see me and my heavy load.
Chai! Son of man has suffered. 😂

We arrived at the head office, checked passports and all necessary documents for the border, then they inspected bags for contraband.

Once done, they started loading us and when I say loading, I mean like sardines with the baggage inside.

If you saw my situation, you would pity me.
But man must survive, so I entered.

They tried to soften the blow by giving us mineral and water but no food!
And this after the fare we paid?
It is well.

For me, the goal was simple , reach my destination.
So, by 12:00 PM, the journey that was meant to start at 8:00 AM finally began.
We moved from Maza towards the Badagry border.

Stay tuned… Border paroles loading.

By 12:10 PM, our “8:00 AM journey” finally started moving.
Praise the living GOD,Thank God.

Lagos was behind us, and the road to Badagry stretched ahead like a promise… or a warning, depending on how you see it.
It was a Sunday so I was expecting to feel the sight of the Famous Lagos traffic and I wasn't disappointed.
Some of the roads were like crocodiles teeth, One wrong move and your caught in-between traffic.
The sun was blazing like it had personal beef with travelers, but I just adjusted my cap and braced for whatever border wahala lay ahead.

Now, if you’ve done this route before, you know there’s one legendary checkpoint that can humble anybody — NDLEA at Badagry. Sure enough, our bus pulled over for inspection. One officer scanned the bus, looked at me, and said:

"Oga, you. Come down."

I came down sharp-sharp, heart beating like drums at a village festival. He beckoned me to one side for inspection. We got talking, and somehow, in the middle of our small chat, he found out I was a security consultant.

Instant change of energy. His eyes lit up, handshake became firmer, and he started nodding like we were old classmates.

"Ah, consultant! You people know the protocols now. No wahala. You’re free to go."

I laughed and thought, “See grace at work.” But as a patriotic citizen and a good Samaritan who believes in motivating “national service”, I gave him a small egunje (tip) for doing “good work” for the country. You know, to encourage efficiency. 😏

As I gave him the tip, another one just appeared from nowhere like Noob Saibot in Mortal Kombat asking for his own then I told him Esprit D' c....... Of course if you know, you know!!!!

After that, the rest of the Badagry border process was surprisingly smooth. The place was cleaner than I expected documents checked, bags inspected, and before you could say “President Tinubu”, we were done and driving off like kings.

The moment we crossed into Benin Republic, I was hit with a surprise . Porto-Novo and later Cotonou were something else!

The roads were clean, lanes were well-marked, and get this , motorcycles had their own right of way. No unnecessary noise, no chaotic horn battles. Everything just seemed… organized.

As I sat there, looking out the window, I began to imagine Nigeria.

Can Nigeria ever be like this?

Or will we keep managing potholes and traffic jams like they’re part of our national culture?

I sighed, shook my head, and faced my journey.

Benin Republic air greeted us like a cool drink after fasting , signboards in French, motorbikes zipping everywhere, and the road suddenly felt like we were in a commercial for smooth asphalt.

But deep down, I knew this was just the warm-up. The Benin–Togo border was still ahead, and the stories I’d heard about that place could make a man pray in tongues.

Stay tuned , Border Chronicles, Part 2 is loading…

Before I continue my Real life story, I want to share some real life lessons learned so far from my journey from Port Harcourt to Lagos.

Here are some key lessons that stand out from my journey so far:

This could help anyone who wants to travel to Ghana by road.

1. Preparation Prevents Delay
Lesson: In life, don’t just prepare, overprepare. Small details can make or break a journey.

2. No Matter How Early You Start, Life Has Its Own Timing

Lesson: Learn patience and adaptability. Control what you can, trust God for the rest.

3. Resourcefulness is a Survival Skill

Lesson: When the road closes, look for the footpath.

4. Human Connections Matter

Lesson: Treat people well because help can come from unexpected places.

5. Respect Local Realities

Lesson: Sometimes, blending in and flowing with the environment is the safest way forward.

6.Cheap Can Be Costly

Choosing Chisco over YSG saved me money but cost my time, comfort, and energy.

Lesson: The cheapest option may not be the best option . Weigh cost against convenience and reliability.

7. Gratitude in Every Condition

Lesson: A thankful heart turns discomfort into a testimony.


Please more likes will motivate me and encourage me to continue. The story is long and more tales to come. Stay tuned....

africaBlogworld:
Before I continue my Real life story, I want to share some real life lessons learned so far from my journey from Port Harcourt to Lagos.

Here are some key lessons that stand out from my journey so far:

This could help anyone who wants to travel to Ghana by road.

1. Preparation Prevents Delay
Lesson: In life, don’t just prepare, overprepare. Small details can make or break a journey.

2. No Matter How Early You Start, Life Has Its Own Timing

Lesson: Learn patience and adaptability. Control what you can, trust God for the rest.

3. Resourcefulness is a Survival Skill

Lesson: When the road closes, look for the footpath.

4. Human Connections Matter

Lesson: Treat people well because help can come from unexpected places.

5. Respect Local Realities

Lesson: Sometimes, blending in and flowing with the environment is the safest way forward.

6.Cheap Can Be Costly

Choosing Chisco over YSG saved me money but cost you time, comfort, and energy.

Lesson: The cheapest option may not be the best option . Weigh cost against convenience and reliability.

7. Gratitude in Every Condition

Lesson: A thankful heart turns discomfort into a testimony.


Please more likes will motivate me and encourage me to continue. The story is long and more takes to come. Stay tuned....

Are you still in Ghana or back to Nigeria,and by the way what took you to Ghana?

Dadzynomolara:
Are you still in Ghana or back to Nigeria,and by the way what took you to Ghana?

I am still in Ghana.

I am here to replant myself.

africaBlogworld:
I am still in Ghana.

I am here to replant myself.

Kudos Bro, please do justice to your write, I might consider with your write up. If person person no fit travelled to Europe or North America make we enta Ghana. Hope the "Nigeria Must Go" story is not as serious the way social media is painting it.

Dadzynomolara:
Kudos Bro, please do justice to your write, I might consider with your write up. If person person no fit travelled to Europe or North America make we enta Ghana. Hope the "Nigeria Must Go" story is not as serious the way social media is painting it.

Contrary to social media news, Ghana is peaceful and Nigerians here are good except those who indulge in nefarious activities thereby tainting our image

If you have the funds to finance it, sure why not give it a go.
Am rooting for you

So we continue.....

From Cotonou, our bus was gliding along so smoothly you’d think we were in a presidential convoy. The roads were spotless, the lanes well-marked, and motorcycles even had their own right of way. I couldn’t help but still imagine : Can Nigeria ever be like this?

But as every seasoned traveler knows the closer you get to the next border, the more “vibes and inshallah” takes over.

Soon enough, we were rolling out of Cotonou and passing some toll gates, then onward until the pilot announced:

“We’ll make a short stop at Hillacondji.”

Now, I don’t know about you, but that name Hillacondji alone sounds like a movie character. It was around 5:30pm, and the driver told us to take a little break, stretch our legs, use the toilet, maybe change some currency for the journey ahead.

I didn’t waste time. I jumped down from the bus and headed straight for the first mission: empty the bladder. Thank God I did oh if not, by the time we hit the border, my bladder for don write petition against me.

Mission one complete, I turned to cross the road… and that’s when I saw it: a suya stand that seemed to be whispering my name like an ex trying to come back into my life.

As a certified meat lover, I couldn’t resist. I went straight to cure my “meat konji at Hillacondji” before we crossed the border.

While waiting for my suya to roast to perfection, I also changed some money with the Bureau de Change guys hanging around.

Fun fact — they still accept naira here, so my ₦2000 suya transaction went smoothly.

The suya was too good to keep to myself, so I shared it with a few fellow passengers who had become my border buddies along the way. Meat and travel stress ; that’s a friendship formula right there.

With stomachs satisfied and pockets adjusted for the CFA economy, we re-boarded the bus and headed straight towards the Benin–Togo border… and that’s where the real “Border Chronicles” continued.

Hit the like button to motivate me to continue. Thanks

Interesting read.

From Hillacondji, we rolled smoothly into Togo.
The road was hugging the coastline like it was in love with the Atlantic, and the beaches along the way were so beautiful I almost told the driver to stop so I could “mistakenly” forget myself there.

Togo people like flexing oooo.
If you see the number of people that go to the beach at Togo eh, you will marvel.

Smooth transition, no wahala until we got to Aflao Border.

That’s where the atmosphere changed.

The calm breeze of Togo disappeared, and the whole scene switched to action movie mode. Immigration officers were everywhere, documents in hand, queues forming, and people moving like they had personal missions from the United Nations.

We were told to come down from the bus and follow protocols: passport checks, questions, bag inspections.

Somewhere in between all this, my bladder decided it had urgent business. I needed to offload immediately.

At Aflao Border, to use the restroom, you must pay 1 cedi. The problem? I had no cedi yet. That’s when regret hit me like NEPA taking light , I should have changed my money at Hillacondji where it’s cheaper!

But grace came through , the guy manning the restroom let me through without payment. God bless him wherever he is.

Relieved and feeling like a new man, I decided to get a Ghana SIM card. Communication is life, and I needed to call my sister in Ghana to prepare for my arrival and of course let my family back in Port Harcourt know I had “entered the land of gold.”

The Ghana Immigration process? Fast, simple, smooth, and seamless. I had to give them kudos for doing their job like pros. No stress, no unnecessary drama.

By now it was 7:00 PM, and we were finally on the last stretch to Accra. As the bus cruised into the night, I thanked God for the journey so far and started making my calls with my brand-new Ghana SIM especially to my sister, who was going to guide me through my first hours in Ghana.

I had done it. I made it to Ghana.

Stay tuned — the Ghana Chronicles are just beginning.

Picture I took was to remind me of what I saw at Togo. Our mothers are wonderful

Wishing you all the best as you stay in Ghana

Stay safe

COMRADES are speechless, comrade, weldone for this odyssey
Well, op in your last pic, I saw conji healer, what does it mean or what did you go there to do?

africaBlogworld:
From Hillacondji, we rolled smoothly into Togo.
The road was hugging the coastline like it was in love with the Atlantic, and the beaches along the way were so beautiful I almost told the driver to stop so I could “mistakenly” forget myself there.

Togo people like flexing oooo.
If you see the number of people that go to the beach at Togo eh, you will marvel.

Smooth transition, no wahala until we got to Aflao Border.

That’s where the atmosphere changed.

The calm breeze of Togo disappeared, and the whole scene switched to action movie mode. Immigration officers were everywhere, documents in hand, queues forming, and people moving like they had personal missions from the United Nations.

We were told to come down from the bus and follow protocols: passport checks, questions, bag inspections.

Somewhere in between all this, my bladder decided it had urgent business. I needed to offload immediately.

At Aflao Border, to use the restroom, you must pay 1 cedi. The problem? I had no cedi yet. That’s when regret hit me like NEPA taking light , I should have changed my money at Hillacondji where it’s cheaper!

But grace came through , the guy manning the restroom let me through without payment. God bless him wherever he is.

Relieved and feeling like a new man, I decided to get a Ghana SIM card. Communication is life, and I needed to call my sister in Ghana to prepare for my arrival and of course let my family back in Port Harcourt know I had “entered the land of gold.”

The Ghana Immigration process? Fast, simple, smooth, and seamless. I had to give them kudos for doing their job like pros. No stress, no unnecessary drama.

By now it was 7:00 PM, and we were finally on the last stretch to Accra. As the bus cruised into the night, I thanked God for the journey so far and started making my calls with my brand-new Ghana SIM especially to my sister, who was going to guide me through my first hours in Ghana.

I had done it. I made it to Ghana.

Stay tuned — the Ghana Chronicles are just beginning.

Picture I took was to remind me of what I saw Togo. Our mothers are wonderful

Bro you be good writer. Waiting for the interesting part of your story.

africaBlogworld:
Contrary to social media news, Ghana is peaceful and Nigerians here are good except those who indulge in nefarious activities thereby tainting our image

If you have the funds to finance it, sure why not give it a go.
Am rooting for you

I will sir. Seun say not enough content, so I get add more. Egbon seun I tuale

This is nice documentary you really try keep it up bro

Sweet thread. Holiday Sweet oooo and Ghana is a very good destination.

I'll love to go to Ghana by road.
I want to experience their food.🥰