May 2021: Three times a year usually during Islamic holidays, people in the Emirates of Northern Nigeria hold a parade or durbar to demonstrate loyalty to their Emir, an Islamic ruler, whose title dates back to the 1400’s. These days the Emir’s do not have any legal powers, but they still possess incredible influence over the people of their Emirate. Nowhere is this more evident than in a durbar.
Durbars are popular events where the masses line the streets to see the Emir and parade participants proudly display their best jihad horses, clothing and weaponry. The parade last for hours and ends at the Emir’s palace where many of the Emir’s subjects ceremoniously pay homage to him while he is seated upon his throne.
My friends and I had the unique opportunity to visit eastern Nigeria and travel with a Nigerian prince to attend durbars and to have a private audience with a few Emirs including one who was the uncle of the Prince.
Due to a newly introduced visa process, the business visa on arrival (BVOA), it became much easier and cheaper for foreigners to enter Nigeria. Essentially you are paying the fixer to lie and state that they are sponsoring you to visit Nigeria for business purposes even though you are just there for tourism. This type of visa cannot be issued far in advance, and you only know a few days before your trip if one is issued and it also has a limited duration. It can be challenging to find a competent and trustworthy fixer in Nigeria to arrange it. Let’s face it Nigeria has a reputation for fraud and it’s not entirely undeserved. My initial visa fixer, a highly recommend tour operator, tragically died in a bus accident. I was then referred to another fixer that was meant to be mostly reliable. After I submitted payment for two people, the visa handler promptly stopped communicating with me. In the end Joan Riviera/Last Places assisted me with finding a fixer to obtain the VOA.
We transited via London where the entire airport was a ghost town as England was in the middle of another Covid lockdown. When we arrived in Nigeria it was the exact opposite. Although Nigeria had a weeklong quarantine requirement for arrivals, it wasn’t enforced.Â
Aside from a negative Covid test upon arrival and departure, there were little to no covid regulations and judging from the behavior of the people, Covid didn’t exist. The few that did wear a mask, wore it around their chin.
Assistant of the Prince/My Bodyguard
Assistant of the Prince/My Bodyguard
The Emir rode by in his horse draped in all white with a decorative umbrella held over him for protection from the sun. The Emir’s guards would shoot air guns, which created crashing bangs. With the crushing crowd all around us, I was very aware of the stampede risk in case of a terror attack. Given Nigeria’s history of terror attacks, my senses heightened during every bang.
After some time, the trumpets hailed, and the guards of the Emir covered him as he entered the room. The audience took their seats on the floor, shoes removed. The Emir sat in his throne silently. The Emir’s spokesperson would do all the speaking for the Emir from this point forth. The custom is that the Emir could not speak directly to the people, but they could speak to him, as they prostrated themselves before him. Everyone from police chiefs to wealthy businessmen, Islamic clerics to young boys prostrated themselves to the Emir paying their respects and praising him.
Driving in Nigeria truly was scary. Vehicles pass each other at full speed into incoming traffic and along the shoulder. Burnt out wrecks sit along the road as constant reminders that death is always near on the road. On many occasions we found ourselves just falling shy of certain death by no less than a miracle. My co-traveler had enough at one point and cursed out the driver. The driver, too focused on the road and trying to squeeze in between trucks at a death-defying speed, was oblivious to my friend’s rant. Despite the poor safety records on the roads in Nigeria, strangely no one wears a seatbelt.
Both Emirs escorted us with their entourage around their palace. As the Emir walked, I made sure to walk beside him and never in front. The entourage constantly would walk in front to make sure the path was clear even though the passageways were familiar to the Emir. The entourage would repeat praises to the Emir as we walked and would carry an umbrella over him when in the sun.
We left Kano and said goodbye to the prince. We were very appreciative of everything the prince did to help us in Kano and for taking the time out of his busy schedule to accommodate us and for giving us a glimpse into his world. In return, I invited the prince and his wife to San Diego, and this December I hope to be his guide and show him my world.