I was not supposed to go back to Abuja til tomorrow to catch my Thursday flight home, but since we have no more agenda and feel a bit unsettled, Cohen, Shmuel and I will go back today.  Shmuel Okuma escorts us by car to the closest, large town and we pass numerous checkpoints, each manned by soldiers with machine guns.  Some stop us, some don’t.  I’m told that many expect bribes, but it’s not something I personally see.  One soldier is extra curious and asks lots of questions.  He thinks I am one of the kidnapped, but somehow is quickly convinced otherwise by looking at Shmuel’s papers.

 

As we reach the bus station, it’s time to say goodbye to Shmuel Okuma.  There’s some sadness for everyone.  My trip, and these few weeks of Jewish togetherness for everyone is soon coming to an end.  Shmuel Okuma says he feels like shedding tears, but quickly leaves before that happens.

 

We find our bus but we need 5 other passengers in order to leave.  We could end up waiting 15 minutes or several hours.  My camera is safe here and draws people in.  I meet a chef from Lagos, and a goat whose face appears on a sign next door under the word “Food”.  A man calls me over to complain that I’m showing an ugly side of Nigeria by filming lizards.  I disagree, and its seems the guy is a bit of a joker.  Like every conversation in Nigeria, it soon turns to God and religion, and I’m being asked to defend my non-belief in Jesus.  After doing a paltry job, especially when he starts quoting the bible in response, Shmuel pipes in and the two of them argue religion for a few hours on the steps of the bus company’s office.  It occurs to me that I’ve talked about faith more in the last few weeks than I ever have before.  There are no atheists, agnostics or kinda-practicing here.  Religion is everything.  We finally have a few more people and we all pay something extra for the last empty seat so we can get on the road.

 

I have brought with me a copy of “Night” by Elie Wiesel and give it to Shmuel to read on the bus.  In the huge shipment of books that Howard has arranged, there are no Holocaust books.  He feels there is already so much to read about Judaism, and why burden them with such dark history.  I agree, but Shmuel does not.  He wants to read everything and feels the Holocaust is an important chapter in Jewish history.  Chillingly, he says he also wants to read about the Holocaust because he feels that one day they might be facing the same situation.

 

The Igbos have some dark history themselves, whether it be tribal situations, resisting colonialists, or The Biafra Civil War in the 1970’s.  Biafra would have been its own independent state – entirely Igbo had they succeeded, but instead many Igbo people perished and the war lasted several years.  Many still have the dream of their own sovereign country, where Judaism would thrive.  We heard earlier today that Muslims protests in the North in response to the Danish cartoons have erupted in violent killings.  Igbos, and especially Jewish Igbos still have a lot to fear in Nigeria.

 

Several hours later, we approach Habbakkuk’s and it’s great to be home.  We have arrived before Habbakkuk so our arrival is a surprise.  The kids are ecstatic and CJ begins calling to people to come over.  Natan and his brother arrive and everyone is happy to be together again.  We relax, have dinner, and spend the evening in the candlelight of the pub, telling stories of our journey and singing Bob Marley tunes.