Nigerians are nice, shock...

What words are conjured in your mind when you hear the name Nigeria? Crime... corruption... ethnic violence or maybe colourful exuberance and excess? Whatever description you would choose, Nigeria is in every respect a country of contrast.
It has a land mass of nearly 100,000 square kilometres which is divided pretty much equally between the Muslim north and Christian south. Although impossible to count, its population is put in excess of 140 million (that’s 1 in 5 of every African) 15.5 million live in Lagos, the most populous city in Africa and bigger even than Cairo.
With such extremes it is understandable why the country has such a fearsome reputation and easy to see why the perception is so strong. Nigeria is awash with oil, and therefore dollars, yet the disparity between extreme wealth and abject poverty is stark. With both the country’s prosperity and inequality so evident to everyone, it is little wonder that the numerous power-cuts and water shortages, which take place on a regular basis, only fuel the feeling that misappropriation, corruption and criminal behaviour are responsible for the resentment felt by so many.
Meanwhile back here in Ghana my colleagues even tried to talk me out of travelling to Nigeria at all. As well as recounting a whole plethora of horror stories in support their advice they were also only too ready to blame all the ills to befall their country, from internet fraud and drug cartels to bad driving and potholes, on the ‘bad’ Nigerians who had found their way to this peace-loving’ nation in order to ply their illicit trade.
It was with some foreboding, therefore, that I began my travels through the country. However my trepidation could not have been further misplaced. When we finally arrived in Lagos around 11:30 that first night we had nowhere to stay and little idea in what sort of area we had found ourselves. However without any request one of the passengers on our bus took time to help us. He pointed out into which areas not to stray and then walked with one of us all around the area visiting a number of hotels to get us the best deal. Only once he had seen us safely to our rooms did he leave us to make his way home. In Abuja, we at least had a place to stay but on arrival found the place to be too expensive. Again someone who happened to be standing outside the hotel offered to help. He walked us to a guesthouse which turned out to be some 20 minutes away. Again he negotiated a price for our room and even called us the next day to check we were settled.
In a tiny place called Banki, on the border with Cameroon, we arrived late at night not having a room to stay having travelled further than we had planned. However, once again we were guided to a new hotel where the owner took us around the town to find a meal, sent his assistant out, across the border into Cameroon, to buy us beer and stayed up chatting with us till 1 in the morning. The next day he took us on a guided tour of the town and its sprawling market.
Without exception, everyone we met or engaged with went out of their way to help us. Nothing was too much for them and no inconvenience too great. It was almost as if they are aware of their nations reputation and were doing all they could to try and counter it. Because of its reputation we ploughed through the country as quickly as we could. However by the time we crossed in to Cameroon we, all three of us, wished we could have stayed longer... certainly not something I would have said only a few weeks previously...