Guardian

OUR journey from Murtala Muhammed International Airport Lagos to OR Tambo International Airport, Johannesburg, South Africa was smooth. Our mission in Madiba’s territory was to be part of the MTV Base Africa All Stars with Snoop Lion, D’Banj, Tuface, Flavour, Zahara and others. However, connecting Durban was even much better; Colette Otusesho of MTV Base made things pretty easier for us. With Gbemi Olateru of Beat FM, Anita Omalicha Isedeh of Rhythm FM, Onos, who works for Bella Naija and myself, we formed a perfect Naija clique, constantly watching each other’s back.

At the Southern Sun (Elangeni) Hotel where we stayed, the team enlarged; we linked up with a ‘crazy’ Nigerian photographer, who was in town for the gig and Anita of Black House Media. We later co-opted Gabrielle, a Dutch journalist, who was visiting Africa for the first time.

Being a first timer in the continent, Gabrielle was a bit reserved; she was more observational than participatory. Yeah, she came with all those ‘cock and bull’ stories of how dangerous Africans are. Now, you can imagine the mindset when she found herself among Nigerians; well, your guess is as good as mine.

Notwithstanding, we rolled the streets of Durban with Gabrielle and rode on the same vehicle during out visit to the Hluhluwe iMfolozi Park in Zulu Land. Later that night, she made an open confession.

“When I was planning this trip, people told me a lot of things about Africa and how dangerous it is to walk on the street here. But you guys have been friendly with me since I arrived. I hope to visit Nigeria someday,” she revealed.

At the concert proper, we cornered a particular table to ourselves and shared the seats at different intervals. Later, our Kenyan colleagues joined us; we all danced and had fun together. While Philip taught us some Kenyan dance steps, we responded by teaching him some etighi and alingo dance moves. Gabrielle was lost at this point, though she made efforts to pick African steps.

In the middle of the groove, I sighted a group of Nigeria journalists, led by Mohammed Abdulahi of Topcomms, a PR company handling South African Tourism; they were in Durban for the Indaba Travel & Trade show. We had drinks together as a larger group, but later moved on with my Naija clique. We danced to Tuface, Flavour D’Banj, Zahara… everybody. But Snoop stole the show, especially with his old hits that brought back memories. You needed to see how guys screamed to his beats. Soaked up in fun, we retired to the hotel very late; we had an early morning flight to Johannesburg for onward transfer to Lagos.

As early as 5.30am (South African time), we were all up; none of us had a descent sleep. However, we managed to rush our breakfast, but not without constant reminder from our guide.

“You must not miss your flight,” the dude said repeatedly with his thick South African ascent. It was at this point that we parted ways with Ola the photographer, who still had other stuffs to do in the city. Few minutes later, we were off to the King Shaka International Airport, Durban.

At the departure lounge, the first person I sighted was Tuface Idibia with his band members; I found out we were on the same flight. Done with the check in procedures, we hooked up with him at the Departure Lounge.

At that point, an announcement came on from the public address system; our flight to OR Tambo had been delayed.

Since he was conspicuously missing at the MTV Base Africa All Stars media briefing, I thought it would be nice to chat with Tuface, who was having his breakfast at the Rhapsody’s Lounge; the Naija clique were all in agreement. A typical Tuface, he grated the interview, such a humble fellow.

The session was brief, but very revealing. It was our first meeting after his marriage with Annie; of course, we hinted on that topic. The chat ended in a photo session with Tuface. Lest I forget, Snoop Lion was also sighted at the airport, with about 20 smartly dressed South African police escorting him to the VIP Lounge; camera phones were clicking from different angle.

Finally, our flight commenced boarding and we were all in the queue. Snoop was among the first set of passengers to board, alongside others in the Business Class. All efforts by some passengers to have a picture with Snoop were aborted, as the cabin crew prevented that from happening.

“We are already running late, please don’t allow people to take pictures with him,” a crewmember of Indian descent instructed.

We landed safely at the local wing of the OR Tambo International Airport and headed straight for the international wing, but not without several stoppages at the duty free shops; if you travel with ladies, you will understand what I mean.

There was no time for food, as our flight SA 60 was announced for boarding. Like we’ve always done, the Naija Clique boarded together; we were like a family. While Gbemi, Omalicha and Anita got the back seats; Onos and myself sat side by side. On a closer look, I noticed Mrs. Josephine Anenih, Chief Tony Anenih’s wife, sitting in front of our row. Tuface got a first class ticket, but his band members were with us.

Flavour did not return with us, but his manager and band members were onboard. It was a full flight, with lots of Igbo merchants. Zahara’s Loliwe ushered us onboard. The Indaba team also boarded the same plane.

Done with formal take off procedures, we took off smoothly at about 2.30pm and got to cruise level successfully. My colleague Onos was already feeling very tired and slept off in few minutes. At that point, we lost contact with the rest of Naija clique. I waited patiently for the in-flight entertainment to come on, hoping to see more Africa movies; I saw Nairobi Half Life on our way to Jo’burg. Erh, I was also on the lookout for the cabin crew to serve their usual chilled red wine.

About 30 minutes after take off, the first pilot’s voice came on; by then, good number of the passenger were already fast asleep.

“Good afternoon ladies gentlemen, we just detected some sparks in the plane and we might be making a return to Johannesburg to rectify the problem…”

At first, I didn’t really get what the pilot said, I though my ears were deceiving me. Again, I wondered if what I heard was actually ‘spark’; spark in the plane to me simply translates to fire in the plane. Those of us still awake eyed one another. To make matter worse, none of the crewmembers was on sight. I sensed danger, but with the assurance and confidence from the pilot, I concluded that the situation was under control.

We hovered for some minutes, and then the pilot’s voice came on again.

“We’ve been instructed to dump fuel…’

Dump fuel? I kept thinking what the pilot meant by ‘dump fuel’; temporarily, I lost my comprehension of English Language. With that confusion running in my head, I woke my friend Onos, who was fast asleep and informed him of the situation. He wiped his face, as if to be sure he wasn’t dreaming. I took time to explain to him what was happening and he quickly adjusted his sitting position, but said little.

Though there was absolute silence in the plane, there was panic among passengers; yet, no one uttered a word as the plane continued the journey back to base. Those who managed to speak spoke in very low tone; you could hardly hear what they were saying. The only noise was from the engine, an assurance that plane is still in motion. At a point, the cabin lights went off; music stopped playing. That was when I realised we were in serious danger.

“There’s no need to panic, everything is under control. Soon, we are going to make an emergency landing,” the pilot updated.

I was much more confident with the first pilot; he spoke with a relaxed mind and there’s this confidence in his voice. In fact, I believed every atom of his words. But his assistant… well, maybe it’s about voice textures, but he made me panic a bit.

From nowhere, the gory pictures of that ill-fated Dana airline started playing in my head. I looked round to know exactly who and who sat beside me; I tried to do quick headcount of passengers onboard.

Earlier that morning, I spoke with my wife as we were heading for the airport and she seriously admonished: “Make sure you pray before boarding the flight.”

As she directed, I did, but not without wondering why the sudden call for prayers. I tried reaching her before we took off, but her phone was not going through, so, I sent a short message to announce our departure.

In my mind, I thought, ‘could this be the reason for her intervention that early morning? Was that going to be our last conversation?’ A lot of things were running in my mind. Suddenly, I realised it was actually a Pentecost Sunday.

I heaved a sigh of relief. Pentecost is the day Holy Spirit descended on the Apostle, so, as far as I was concerned, the ‘Holy Spirit  is in charge.’

Few minutes later, the pilot called for landing, but with the following instruction:

“By the time this plane touches the ground, a lot of vehicles will come after us; don’t panic, it’s part of the procedures,” he said confidently.

Gradually, the fight commenced descending, to the point that one could see fire-fighting vehicles, rescue team and police vans on standby; their hazard lights were fully in motion.

Slowly but steadily, we landed on the roadway and the vehicles came after the plane, ready to take on the flight in case of any eventuality. I had seen similar scenarios in Hollywood films, but that day, it was live; I was involved.

“Praise the Lords… God I thank you, I bless your name. Oh, Jesus Christ, I was already dead! I didn’t want to say it all these while because I don’t want to cause panic,” a woman, who sat opposite screamed.

Others joined in the impromptu prayer session, followed by a resounding round of applause for the brave pilots for guarding the plane safely. As for the whites passengers on board, none of them uttered a word; they were busy fiddling with their phones. Oyibo bu agbara… don’t ask me what that means, consult your Igbo friends.

Half of the passengers reached for the toilets immediately the plane came to a final stop, but were prevented from using the lavatories.

“Please, you can’t use the toilets now because the water is no longer running. We are waiting for buses to take you to the terminal, once we confirm from the engineers,” the pilot informed.

In the middle of the excitement, a passenger, who sat behind me, pulled out his phone to announce his arrival in Lagos.

“Yes, we’ve arrived Lagos,” he announced with a sleepy face.

Obviously, the bowler hat wearing man was fast asleep all through our terrifying experience on air. By the time he was briefed on what happened, fear gripped him.

“So, we are back to South Africa? How manage? What happened,” he quizzed.

We all laughed over it, as we made our way back to the terminal.

“Na wa o, wetin I never think? In fact, when the pilot talked about dumping fuel, I became uncomfortable. Even with spark in the plane, they were dumping fuel, ” Tuface quipped, rubbing his skinhead.

The flight was delayed till 6pm and there was time to have our lunch, courtesy of South African Airways. At exactly 6pm, our flight, the same A340-600, was announced for boarding. There were mixed feelings among passengers, but somehow, we summoned courage to board again, hoping for the best.

The pilot took time to explain what exactly happened, assuring passengers that the plane was in a good condition to fly to Lagos.

According to him, a spark was detected in the aircraft galley. The galley is the kitchen aboard a vessel, usually laid out in an efficient, typical style with longitudinal units and overhead cabinets. As a safety-conscious airline, the crew had to make an air return to base. International best practice stipulates that a captain and his crew make an air return to base or the nearest airport in the event of technical problem with an aircraft in flight.

“We apologise for what happened, but I want to assure you that this aircraft has been certified fit to convey you to Lagos,” he assured.

This time, we took off smoothly and cruised back to Lagos without hitches. Yes, I had time to see the movies; yes, I had my red wine. And most importantly, thank God, it was on a Pentecost Sunday.