₦airaland Forum

Lara George – rest of my life

thanx

some responses
http://thelongharmattanseason..com/2007/09/dele-momodu-and-mad-man-at-charles-de.html

http://www.nigeriavillagesquare.com/board/articles-comments/40654-dele-momodu-mad-man-charles-de-gaulle-5.html

http://allafrica.com/stories/200709130541.html

BY Dele Momodu
I have had to change my subject this week, after the heart-shattering spectacle I encountered at Charles De Gaulle Airport, Paris, two days ago.

For weeks I had planned to write on the sad state of illegal immigrants in Europe and the United States of America. Our able-bodied, articulate, well-educated, ambitious and restless young men and women are daily embarking on what I consider voluntary journey into slavery, in search of the so-called green pasture. They are all convinced that as soon as they land in London, New York, Paris, Frankfurt, Brussels, Milan, Madrid, Amsterdam, Stockholm and other exotic capitals of the world, all their problems would be over.


It took the mad Blackman I saw at Charles De Gaulle's sprawling airport to compel me to write this article. I was waiting to check in when this tall, dark, once-handsome, bearded apparition caught my attention.

He was in shorts and wore a hooded jacket that covered his head, pushing a very busy trolley, with all manner of junk that looked like those Yoruba's tanioroko sack. I noticed that the man must have been homeless, only God knows for how long, and was thus compelled to carry all his belongings on this evil trolley. I also believe that for him not to have been deported yet, by the no-nonsense French immigration, meant he's probably now a citizen of France.

As he pushed his trolley, right inside the main Terminal 2F, he criminally defiled the sparkling airport by smoking non-stop, in a no-smoking zone, and in a manner that suggested that he couldn't care less if he was arrested or not. At least, he would have somewhere to lay his head in prison, where government would also have to bear the costs of his feeding and toiletries. He was so bold that he kept roaming around even as the three fully-armed anti-terrorist squad patrolled near-by. He just carried on, like a very distinguished personality, who should be accorded VIP treatment, and truly no one stopped him from living in his fools' paradise.

The last I saw of him was when he disappeared into a lift, to continue his sojourn in the land of the cold. As if that encounter was not bad enough, I ran into a deportee, as we boarded the Air France flight to Lagos. It must be noted that on most of my flights out of Europe, it is a regular thing to meet deportees, and I must have done about fourteen landings at this very airport in the last three months. The latest deportee was accompanied by an immigration officer who had his pistol handy, just in case our brother decided to try his skills as a sprinter. Our dear brother still walked with whatever dignity was left in him, as he bounced in like Tupac in his jeans, T-shirt, face cap, boots, and what-do-you-call their bling bling necklace. It occurred to me that had he stayed back home, he might have challenged the musical supremacy of Tu Face and D'Bang.

The stories are always the same. A young man, or a young woman, spends endless years in school because of incessant, and indefinite closures. For some, they manage to graduate and go on national service, but end up finding no jobs for years. Some don't ever bother to go to school or look for jobs. From their teenage years, they are dreaming of traveling abroad. These are the ones who would do anything to "get out", including swimming across the seas and oceans, crawling across the Sahara desert, sticking to the belly of an aero plane, chanting incantations at embassies, stealing money from parents, relatives and friends to buy fake visas. Others simply turn into irritants who beg and blackmail people into helping them with some money.

"Please, Sir, just help me and God will help you too. As soon as I get there, I will work quickly to pay you back, most of them would assure you.

A few of them would miraculously raise the money, which, at any rate, could have set up a sizable business for them in Nigeria, but would rather risk everything for going to "the land, overflowing with milk and honey". On their way to paradise, they bribe airline and immigration officials to ignore the fake visas. Somehow, some of these camels pass through the eye of the needle.

Their illiterate advisers, and most Nigerians are expert immigration lawyers, would advise them to tear their passport mid-flight and raise up their hands to claim asylum, as soon as they land in their dream destination. This used to work at a time but not any more. Today, it is straight to prison, where they would be till they find an available flight for them back home. Immigration laws have changed drastically since the terrorist attack on New York.

There are those who use what is called oriolori (they insert their pictures into either a stolen passport, or just a friend or relation's passport. There are legendry tales of all the possibilities at Oluwole Street, in Lagos, where anything can be reproduced or manufactured. A few of them manage to get through, and land straight in London's Peckham, or Hackney, or wherever their initial contact resides.

There are others who buy fake visas and are told not to fly through their own country, but other West African Countries "where they don't scrutinize the passports too much". I was once a victim of such nonsense. A close relative had come to me to beg so passionately for "ticket money" to travel to America. I asked where he got the visa from, and he assured me it was a "genuine visa" as he would never engage in anything illegal. He even told me that he had a job he saw on the internet waiting for him. Everything sounded perfect, and foolishly, I believed him. The only problem was raising money for this important ticket. At a stage, I started feeling wicked and promised to find him the money. Eventually, I got him the money, and his face glowed, naturally, as a man now set for his dreams. That was the last I heard of him, for a very long time.
I expected he would call after a few days to say he had landed and all was well. Unknown to me, he had worked hard in Nigeria and saved so much money to pay some crooks who promised to get him a "good visa". This "good visa" would have to be used through another country in West Africa and he will definitely get to America,according to their permutations. Our desperate man fell for these stupid tales, and did as he was told. Unfortunately, for him, he got caught, was locked up in prison for weeks. When he was released, as an ECOWAS Citizen, he bribed his way and simply remained in that country. It took him months before he could summon the courage to send a bland message to me that he was stranded somewhere, and was too ashamed to tell me.

I advised him to snap out of his delusion and return home. He said everyone thought he was abroad and won't be able to face his friends and family.


Even for those who manage to scale all hurdles to make it abroad, it is the same expression of shame, which makes it impossible to return home on discovering that there is nothing for them.

Reality hits most illegal immigrants as soon as they land. Within days their hosts often tell them to start paying bills. And where are the jobs anyway, when they lack their papers? The only jobs available are from crooks like them who would exploit their statelessness by offering them a pittance for very demeaning jobs. Anytime they complain, their employer threatens them with deportation. Suddenly, they begin to realize that the land of their dreams was only a mirage, the land is too cold, and the people are even colder. Their friends, who came back during the last holiday to show off the so-called affluence they acquired abroad are indeed fraudsters, forging signatures and stealing people's credit cards or even doing drugs. Some are already in prison. Our new Johnny Just Come (JJC), is beginning to look stupid. But there is no home to return to. He's either forced to work as a filthy security man, or he joins the bandwagon of fraudsters. He may even end up washing dead bodies, or looking after old men and women who can no longer visit toilets or bathrooms on their own.

Statistics have shown that misfortune awaits more than 90 percent of illegal immigrants. They begin to shrink, or look very miserable. Our girls usually dry up like stockfish, and take to prostitution,or just anything to survive. I shook hands with one young Nigerian girl in Toronto weeks back. Her palm was as coarse as a rock. She was totally drained of life.

Is it really worth it traveling abroad when you have no papers or jobs waiting for you? I know most people would still do everything to go, even as I write this sad piece. Our youths are too desperate not to try anything to escape from where they consider hell on earth. But truth is most of these desperadoes always end up like the mad man at Charles De Gaulle!

Dele Momodu's article in this as the subject matter refers have caused a lot of uproars and debates, Nigerians in Diaspora should comment. il post the aricle below

;d

Lara george – rest of my life

Timaya – the timaya song
Green land – ty bello

Cuz d devil u knw its better dan d angel u dont

thinking “gosh tomorrow is friday”

It depends on what caused the break up, if you’v moved on with ur life and u have time to spare that day why not?

pls lets say a prayer for my cousin who lost her husband last week, she got married three yrs ago, has a two year old son and a three months old daughter, sheis feeling deserted by God so lets pray that he’l comfort her in his own way and let her know she is not alone, Thanx

well don’t rush into any relationship, take your time, meet a girl, be friends first before you take it to the next level, cheers brother

marry your heart throb jore

hope u wrote d SFM dis Nov diet. Hola wen d result comes out so we knw

d one that luvs u

whaaaaaaaaaaattttttt

so true

lol

wow

lol

ok i get it, its in the jokes session so its a joke rrite? LOL LOL LOL LOL LMAO, iv contributed teeth

thanx a lot

Thanx sauce kid I thot as much

*checking the thread*

anytime u say, tho I work mon - fri aat VI sha, so it has 2b wknd

single pin, when I put the ear piece in, d light comes on, but it doesn’t pick it that’s d ear piece

End time is approaching

Igbos the maybe calarbar next

Indomie has no rival. Chikki, mimee, o and d rest of them are fightn for 10% of the market

Holidays