Valentine’s Day! It’s everywhere. We Canadians spent it sitting in the new Top Rank Hotel, right in the middle of the old part of Kano. It seemed such an incongruous place. The outside guarded by a couple of sleepy Hausa watchmen while inside we had flashing strobe lights, shaking bodies and violently loud music. I was fascinated watching the dancing which was accentuated by the colours flashing onto the dancers’ clothing from the strobe lights. Their movements were also heightened by the glowing of the men’s white shirts brought about by the ultra violet lighting. The disc jockey stood behind a glass partition wearing a small trilby. He kept up a constant patter thought the playing of the records and it might have been interesting to listen to, or even amusing, if it hadn’t been for the loudness of the music. It reminded me of a visit I had made with friends to an African students’ social evening at the University of Alberta in Edmonton. I had been expecting displays of native dancing, or even African music, but instead we were subject to music which had the same effect on my ears as the roaring of a jet engine. I swore that at one point the disc jockey saw us trying to talk to each other and he promptly turned up the sound.
I surprised myself by joining in the dancing. I find it impossible to take such jiggling and shaking seriously and so I tend to treat it as a way to get physical exercise. At one point a man came over to me and said, “Would you like to dance bone to bone”. I gathered he wanted me to get up and dance with him, which I did, but I dared ask for an explanation of the “bone to bone” bit. The one redeeming fact about the disco was the fact that we could sit and drink non-alcoholic drinks with no pressure put on us to do otherwise. I couldn’t help smiling, when we left, as the manager asked us if we had enjoyed ourselves and he hoped to see us again.
Two car loads of us set off for our lodgings in varying states of tiredness and sensory shock. We got lost twice but managed to reach home. David had not driven the car before and so he sometimes had gear problems. At the gate to the college we were told to move back a bit so that the watchman could open the gate; we promptly shot forward and nearly crushed the poor man. Then, as we said thank you and goodnight to the watchman, we pulled away from the gate - backwards.
The other car load was less fortunate. They got lost a number of times which is a nerve-wracking experience when one is in a strange country. Kano is poorly signposted; you have no idea where north is. Every time you stoop you stand a chance of being attacked and robbed or the car stolen from you. Their anxiety was heightened by the stupid behaviour of one of our friends. He scared the daylights out of the rest of the passengers by insisting on shouting to anyone he saw to come over and help. Back at his home he locked some of the people in their rooms and went around ranting and raving. I think they were all glad when daylight came and they could get away from him.
I never thought I would be glad to get away from my friends, but after all the events of the previous day I was glad to be dropped off at my own quiet home with the cattle grazing outside and the boys bathing in the quarry pool. It was such a beautiful warm evening so I went for a walk. The savannah reminded me of walks I had made through the farms of the Alberta; the horizon always so far away, and an endless sky. The boys were playing football and, through the air, came the sound of some of them singing African songs. It was such a peaceful scene compared to the earlier part of the day. Even the sky reminded me of Alberta as it seemed to respond to my daydreaming by providing me with a beautiful hazy pink glow.
