If you’re a traveller coming into Nigeria from overseas, be prepared for delays at the entry points because of the latest Ebola outbreak. Typical of Nigeria’s way of doing things, there appears to be an uncoordinated attempt at checking the spread of the disease.
Even before the screening exercise, the ongoing reconstruction of Lagos airport means that the Federal Aviation Authority of Nigeria (FAAN) sends rickety buses to ferry passengers from their aircraft to the arrival hall. Very disappointing rickety buses!
I arrived recently at Murtala Muhammed International Airport (MMIA), Lagos, only to behold a sea of human heads struggling to read a banner displayed at the passport clearance gate. When I moved closer and asked questions, health and immigration officials were shouting instructions. It turned out to be a QR code which every arriving passenger had to scan and complete before being allowed into Nigeria.
Everybody was struggling to scan the code. The place became noisy, rowdy and chaotic. I quickly scanned the code, filled the form and submitted it. ‘You can pass and go straight to submit your passport’, an official told me.
Many passengers were not as lucky because they did not have the QR code on their phones to scan the barcode. Trust our system to create opportunities for exploitation. In such a chaotic situation, some officials could offer to help passengers fill the forms for a fee, while others might simply wave them through.
What bothered me most were the questions. Passengers were asked about their port of departure, transit country, airline, recent symptoms such as fever, diarrhoea and coughing, their address in Nigeria and the purpose of their visit. These questions may provide useful information, but they cannot, on their own, determine who has Ebola and who does not. Some infected persons may not yet show symptoms, while others may simply answer “No” to every question to get through.
The crowded, stuffy walkway was itself a concern. What if someone with the infection were among the crowd? Why should a public health exercise create such congestion in the first place?
What stops the authorities from asking airlines to distribute health declaration forms to passengers before landing, where appropriate, so they can complete them before disembarking? Why must everybody be crowded into one narrow walkway simply to give the impression that Nigeria is serious about combating the spread of the disease?
After completing the form and clearing immigration and security, passengers still have to contend with baggage collection, further luggage scanning and manual searches by customs and other officials.
On this occasion, I was told that I had four mobile phones and should step aside for further interrogation. Fortunately, they were dealing with a hard nut that was not so easy to crack. After a few exchanges, their supervisor instructed them to ‘allow this gentleman to go’.
And I left.
But what did not leave me was Nigeria.
When will our entry points become welcoming to visitors and returning citizens? When will government do something about commercial vehicle operators who have turned airport arrivals into a motor park, canvassing for passengers and causing chaos? What about those who hawk foreign currency openly around the airport?
As government modernises MMIA, it must look beyond buildings and terminals. Arrival procedures must be efficient, coordinated and welcoming. Health screening should be scientifically sound, while immigration, customs and security officials must operate professionally and with respect for passengers.
An international airport is a country’s gateway and often the first impression visitors have of it. Nigeria must stop confusing disorder with seriousness.
When will we put our house in order and earn the respect we so desperately seek among the comity of civilised nations?
