Driving in Abuja

We picked up our car on Saturday and took the ’06 Chrysler minivan for a spin. It was refreshing to be out of the hotel with just our family. Sean drove us to a multiple level mall with a ShopRite grocery store. It was nice and I was surprised by the variety, until I started to look for certain things like chips and ziploc bags and then it hit me again that we’re “not in Kansas anymore.”

The hardest part of shopping was trying to take it all in and all the while being available to listen to the girls and help them take it all in. Then there was the paying 18,360 Naira in 500 bill increments without flashing my money everywhere. You think you can do basic math until you are holding up the line and then your mind just goes blank. We made it back to the hotel with a strange combination of items, but we survived our first drive and shopping trip!

Sunday came and I was refreshed and ready to try it again, but this time I wanted to drive. When I talk to other expats about driving here I get mixed responses. Most of the time I am told that they don’t drive, but that I should try. Challenge accepted!  Sunday morning, while most most the city is gone for the weekend or at church, seemed like a good time to try.

We set out once more on the vaguely marked roads of Abuja. I drove and Sean navigated. Taking driving advice has never been my strong suit. I have said many times that Google Maps has saved our marriage. It’s not so much the directions but the, “slow down, change lanes, stay in your lane,” comments that make my blood boil. This time though, I knew that I needed to put my pride aside and do everything he said, even if it made me feel 15 again. We prepped the girls for the trip by explaining why it was important to be quiet. They brought their iPads and headphones to listen to “Story of the World.”

The drive went well for the first 10 minutes. Then we turned down a street that had been closed off and I had to quickly reverse 40 ft back on to the main road and into oncoming traffic. That set off a string of missed turns and blocked roads. Traffic patterns change here on Sundays because of church attendance. Streets become parking lots near the big churches and one-way streets become two-way. I had my first experience with “counterflow” traffic. A one-way street becomes a two-way, but there aren’t any markings, and drivers have no problem playing “chicken” to get around slow traffic. God provided though, and there always seemed to be a car in front of me to follow.

It was intense and there was hardly any traffic. The challenge was the inconsistency. Some intersections have traffic lights and others have cops. It’s not always clear if the cops are telling you to stop or go. There is always the possibility of getting pulled over for a random security check. There are unmarked speed bumps and pedestrians are crossing the road whenever and wherever they decide to. It’s a lot to take in and pretty unnerving for a rule follower like me.

I’m happy I did it and happy it’s done. I’ll do it again… I just need a few days.