Sina Odugbemi, a former President of the University of Ibadan Students’ Union, recalls his tortuous six-month journey by road from Nigeria to Libya, bringing back memories of anguish, sorrow and blood that characterise the decades-long experiences of thousands of Nigerians seeking greener pastures. In this encounter with ADEWALE ADEOYE, the activist says slavery has returned to Africa by other means. He hopes to set up a foundation that would discourage Nigerians from leaving the country for a future often uncertain.

OING to Libya from Nigeria, spending six months on the road, through circuitous routes laden with sand dunes, whirlwind and violent reptiles, hidden under mountains of dust plus encounters with armed Tuaregs can only be for the desperately adventurous. His experiences were harrowing: travellers devoured by wild animals, girls seized by armed groups and forced into marriage, some raped to death and, in bizarre cases, pregnant women were victims of open-space torture and sexual assault. In the past two decades, no fewer than 1,000 Nigerian girls may have been kidnapped and forcibly married by armed gangs operating in the desert, he said.

This month, Sina Odugbemi hosts prominent Nigerians including radical lawyer Femi Falana (SAN), Mr Olisa Agbakoba (SAN) and the Governor of Kaduna State, Shehu Sani, who are expected to converge on Lagos where a Foundation billed to discourage Nigerians from going through the desert for survival in Europe is expected to be launched.

For Odugbemi, his taste for radical adventure actually started as a minor. At 10, in the 1960s, he used to sneak out to Kongi Club at Ibadan, ran by radical scholar, Prof. Wole Soyinka. The Club became a rendezvous for leftists and activists like the iconic Fela Anikulapo Kuti. But it was at the University of Ibadan that his radicalism got ideological content, enriched by his winning the students’ Union election as the President.

He set out for Libya with only N900, a lot of money in the 90s, a period that air travel to Europe from Nigeria was just N8,000. For him it was the age of adventure: 23, raw, green and desperate to explore a world that seemed infinite. He was the youngest in the 18-seater bus. After three days rough journey to Sokoto, the seat of the caliphate, he had little problems crossing into Niger Republic to a place called Birnin Kobi. From Sokoto to Ilela, the border town of Nigeria, to Birni Koni in Niger Republic, the N900 was soon exhausted in Niger Republic where he needed to bribe almost every official.

Odugbemi moved from Towa to Agadez in Niger Republic with other Nigerians young and desperate men and women, all heading to Europe through Libya. While in Niger, the desert aroma began to show its full prowess: extremely hot day but a contrastingly chilling night.

“I, like others, had to source a veil to cover the face and look like one of the indigenous people in the area,” he told our correspondent. He needed to pass through Niger, Algeria and the scorching Sahara Desert before reaching Libya, the connecting country. It turned out to be a mind-boggling journey filled with pangs, pains and acidic memories of encounters with death.

It was a route manned by spineless murderers, crooks and vagabonds who literally fed on the blood of their prey. Treachery was a virtue. While in Niger, in a city called Agadez, he and others paid money to one ‘Buzu’ boy, a tribe in Niger and Algeria who are whites. The boy took them somewhere with the promise to look for more people before embarking on the journey. After waiting for three weeks, he was nowhere to be found. Odugbemi and his team were stranded in Agadez.

“When you get to Agadez, you will ‘thumbs-up’ for those living there, not to talk of someone getting stranded. It was like suicide. No jobs, no water, no food. Some families trekked for more than 10 to 20 kilometres to get water to drink.

“There was a Sahara hotel and you would marvel at what went on there. Yet you would see white people, French people.”

While in Niger, immigration officials and touts frequently arrested them to fleece them with threats that they would be sent back to Nigeria. He said one day the group was looking for Musa who took money from them and each time he asked locals about him, more revelations about his crime adventures were revealed.

“There were rules of the journey. Don’t be generous with whatever you have, kindness and love were no virtues, travel light, hide your money in the dirtiest parts of your body, learn not to smile, and be alert.”

At the garage where he lived and worked, a fellow, the Secretary of the garage, met him. He was also a graduate of the University of Ibadan, incidentally. Odugbemi told him he was the President of UI. Awed, the fellow wondered his mission, telling him the journey was “for outcasts”. He came to his aide by offering him a job at the park to earn enough money to continue his journey. He was paid 100 Francs per day which offered him only one meal per day. After earning a little, he auctioned his clothing to raise more funds.

“I had the option of going back, but with that spirit in me, I thought it would be cowardice on my part to go back,” he said.

Then one day, a new set of Nigerians came, led by a Yoruba man with about 10 girls in his team. “He was conversant and knew I was stranded and promised to help.”

With the man, after three months of living like a scavenger in Niger, he and others moved to Indizen, in Southern Algeria. The tradition was that travellers going from Niger to Algeria would hide under the belly of the trailers or be packed among other goods, a risky assignment that may earn the drivers life imprisonment or jail terms for the migrants. He and his team made it through the illegal route.

The new destination was Tamaraset City, one of the most difficult parts of the journey. At this point, the travellers lost their West African citizenship, the country being North Africa, where the rules completely changed. The indigenous people to be encountered were white skinned, brutal and extremely hostile to blacks and strange faces. But the risk of passing through their land migrants must take.

He said the tradition was that travelers would be taken to a ‘connection house’ run by crooks and bad boys. Around this time in the Algerian desert, he said, many Nigerians died out of dehydration or missing of ways. The rulers of the Berbers, he recalled, were customarily veiled. When they see a stranger, friend or foe, the first thing they did was to bring out dagger.

It was In Southern Algeria, among the Berbers, that he had the toughest time. The team had to walk through the desert to avoid immigration officials. One day after he and 14 others, among who were seven girls, had trekked for more than 30 kilometres under the burning sun, at twilight, they discovered a mud house without roof, which was suitable for rest.

The cold night wind beamed. If they could survive this area, the next would be to climb Mount Hoggar after which they would see a glowing, beautiful Libyan city, their destination and the easiest route to Europe.

While deep asleep at midnight, a sound that started like the tip toe of a cat or the murmuring of dry grass soon turned into an invasion by armed Berbers. They were veiled so that you would not even know the person talking to you; only the tiny, piercing red-shot eyes would be seen.

Odugbemi recalled that the team was toil worn, exhausted and without water, but they had trudged for three days, vital energy lost to resist any hostile force. The Berbers, who dominate the illegal routes, were about 10. At gunpoint, negotiation began. They wanted the team arrested and handed over to the Algerian authorities or they should accept the alternative option: everyone must hand over their belongings while the seven girls would be distributed as booties to be ganged raped. They could also be taken away and married by the Berbers.

The conditions drove Odugbemi into a rage. “I don’t know where I got the courage; I challenged them and insulted their sense of inhumanity. Why should they rape the girls? Why? He asked. But before the armed men could respond, the ladies themselves rose up against Odugbemi. If to be ganged raped was the only thing they needed to do to reach Libya and hopefully Europe, why not?

“You are not our solicitor. Leave us alone,” the girls roared. “We don’t want to go back to Nigeria by all means necessary,” one of them said. The armed men separated the girls, took them away into the distant layers of sand dunes where they violently knew them. Odugbemi and the other men watched from distance the rhythm of human bodies, rolling over each other as the rapists had a field day.

The rapists came back smiling. Their leaders said the girls were lucky. After all, they could have married them right there in the desert. He said there were already thousands of Nigerian women taken captive, married and that the children from such marriages were in four digits with hundreds of children begotten. For the first time, Odugbemi wept.

As part of the bargain, the Berbers then accompanied them to the last illegal outpost in Southern Algeria, assuring them that they were safe on Algerian territory until they reached the Libya entry point through a mountainous region that took them another five days to climb.

They eventually led them to the end of Algeria. The long walk continued.

Not too far from Algeria after they had walked for about 20 kilometres, suddenly, around 1am, there was a nightmare: a huge creature of about 30 meters long began to shadow behind them. Around the head and nostrils were glowing stove fire and steamy vapour. The team was scared, with each shouting Muslim and Christian prayers. The figure increased in height as it drew nearer. They took to their heels. The mystery creature followed. At this point, they drew the conclusion it was a huge spirit. It eventually caught up with them, forcing them to lay prostrate on the sand.

It turned out to be an equipment device by the Algerian immigration meant to track illegal immigrants. Behind the huge equipment were customs vehicles. Odugbemi and his group were again arrested. During interrogation, what saved the team was an old picture of Odugbemi where he was being sworn in as the President of UI Students Union. The leader, a Colonel and revolutionary ideologue, was fascinated when Odugbemi told him his past. Both discussed the various revolutions across Africa including the problems of leadership in Nigeria.

The Colonel told him they expected Nigeria to lead Africa. He mentioned the names of Obafemi Awolowo, Kwame Nkrumah and Murtala Mohammed, saying Africans looked up to them but disappointed they never had the chance to lead Nigeria. The fellow even quoted a speech from Murtala Mohammed. They were released and had to stay in Algeria for some time before they continued the journey.

While in Algeria, Odugbemi worked as a chef in a restaurant. The last point of the journey was to climb mount Hoggar route (one of the highest mountains in Africa) or to go through Gath before reaching Libya. They set out for the journey on foot, all night, all day, to rest briefly in the night. After climbing the Hoggar Mountain was Gath.

After many days, at dawn, they saw the first Libyan city. “The difference was clear. The neon lights did not blink. A beautiful and amazing city stood to our astonishment,” he said.

While in Tripoli, he was arrested again with hundreds of Nigerians. At the camp, before deportation, a top military man who saw a beautiful sketch he drew on a paper picked him out of the crowd of illegal immigrants. Odugbemi’s first job was as an artist. Within the shortest time, he became a local star. He made good money. After a few months, he told his host he was moving to Tripoli. It was many hours away.

Though he knew no one, getting a job was not difficult. He started as a cobbler in the central area of Tripoli. Food was cheap. Access to health was not a problem. He made enough money to live good by the standard of his needs.

One afternoon, a member of the Muammah Ghadaffi National Guard came to the market Square, looking for a place to shine his military shoes. He placed his booths on a sofa while Odugbemi mastered his trade. It was time to pay. The guard took a deep look at the cobbler then his eyes went wild. “Are you not Sina Odugbemi?”

The reconnection was like electric current. They shouted and hugged. They were both classmates at Ilora Grammar School in Osun State. “Sina, what the hell are you doing here?” The encounter marked a new beginning in his life. Segun passed through the same route. He had enlisted in Ghadaffi’s army and rose to become one of the most trusted and one of Ghadaffi’s personal guards. He took Odugbemi to a University in Tripoli where revolutionaries from all over Africa were quartered for ideological indoctrination and military training. The camp was led by an Army Major.

While on the campus, Sina secured a new status. He had accommodation, free food and the prospect of being enlisted into the Libyan special military force was brightened or to become a student in the university. The Libyan authorities began to profile him in preparation for his enlistment. His admission was close to fruition when the head of the group, the Major, ran into troubled waters with Ghadaffi, unknown to Sina.

At this time, his friend was already in Asia for a special assignment. They were no longer in touch. The Libyan government knew illegal migrants often troop in like termites in early summer. The government had its own policy of assimilation. The migrants would be asked to make a choice between joining the Libyan Revolutionary Guard or be deported back to Nigeria. Many years earlier, many Nigerians had joined and even a few rose to the rank of General.

Illegal immigrants were usually kept in a large camp, boys and girls. Those who applied to join the Army would be trained and absorbed. He estimated that at this time thousands of Nigerians enlisted in the Libyan Army. On the Anniversary of the Revolution, the men and women would be kitted in a large parade indicating the diverse nature of the Libyan Revolutionary Army.

Odugbemi was in Tripoli city one day when he was arrested again. Segun was not available to help and the Major who knew him was already in trouble. At the deportation camp Odugbemi was taken, he said Nigerians who did not want to be deported devised some tricks. They denied their country of origin, knowing that the passport the traveller held would determine the country he or she would be deported. He said there existed a rogue ring that specialised in procurement of fake passports. Oluwole in downtown Lagos was where the “experts” sourced the passports with a strong network in Tripoli. They would make the passports for willing Nigerians, making them become holders of fake European and Asian Passports. When Libya asked the illegal immigrants to line up according to their countries, it came to past that behold, many Nigerians would line up behind many European and Asian flags. The Libyan authority would then deport them to those countries whose passports they held.

On arriving in those countries, they would immediately seek asylum, claiming they travelled to Libya with fake documents to avoid state agents looking out for them due to their anti-government campaigns. However, when it became unbearable for the Libyan authorities, the government became suspicious.

Odugbemi said one day a team of armed soldiers led by a colonel stormed the camp, fired several shots to scare the immigrants after which he ordered them to line up truly again according to their nationality. The Nigerians were never scared. They again brought out their fake passports. The Colonel devised a strategy. He asked each immigrant to come out one after the other to sing their National Anthems. “Nigerians responded by singing tracks from Ras Kimono, Orlando Owoh or Osadebe knowing the Libyans themselves were ignorant of the national anthems of those countries,” said Odugbemi. This compelled the Libyans to isolate Nigerians for special profiling and investigations.

By irony of fate, Odugbemi was deported to Nigeria. His return to Libya was in a special way. Segun had returned to Libya and Ghadaffi was looking for “revolutionaries all over Africa”. Odugbemi was recommended. The Libyan government sent for him in a first class flight. It was during this trip that he met Ghadaffi in his house in 2012.

At the meeting were people from all over the world, including the grandsons of Malcom X and Patrice Lumumba, the late Congolese revolutionary. Shabbazh, the grandson of Malcom X later died in Mexico in 2013. Traditional rulers were also invited from Nigeria like the King Joshua Igburugburu of Ibenanaowei of Bom Kingdom in Bayelsa State and the Olu of Itapaji-Ekiti, King Abdulazeez Adebanjo, among others. He became so close to Libyan authorities, lodged at the prestigious Corinthian Hotel.

Ghadaffi’s big assignment for them was one country from Africa. Unfortunately, it was not long that the Libyan uprising began. Ghadaffi was killed and Odugbemi’s possible renewed Libyan dream crashed like a pack of cards.

Now as he marks his 60^th birthday this week, Odugbemi hopes to set up a foundation that would discourage Nigerians from passing through the harrowing experiences of travelling to Europe through the desert. He said the Economic Community of West African States (ECOWAS) and the African Union (AU) are not doing enough to arrest the carnage and savage Nigerians pass through in the desert. To him, slavery is ongoing in a different way while African authorities stand by and watch. “Thousands have died. Many have perished in the desert. On the ship through the Atlantic Ocean, Nigerians are being taken into voluntary slavery. Many girls have been married off in the desert. My dream is to reach out to millions of young Nigerians to dissuade them, irrespective of the economic situation in Nigeria, that the desert route to Europe is a suicide choice,” he said.

He admits It is a tall order as long as poverty and misery envelop the land, forcing many Nigerians to flee their country “by all means necessary”. But for Odugbemi, if Nigerians are aware of the peril that lay on the journey, they would rather be at rest in their fatherland irrespective of the thorns and tribulations at the home front. (The Nation: Text, Excluding Headline)

Update news