Through unknown Nigeria

At Rahama one says good-bye to the railway. Henceforth locomotion must be of the animal or the human kind. The whole of the transport onwards is in the hands of the Niger Company, and everybody who desires to progress must go there.

Perhaps I should not say “must.” All are free to make their own arrangements, but it will be found impossible to engage carriers direct, for every man-Jack available is constantly employed by the Niger Company, who could do with hundreds, if not thousands, more. Had the Company, or someone else, not organised transport there would have been such scramble and chaos in the endeavour to get carriers for the tin fields that the Government would have been compelled to itself organise the service, for the confusion would have been intolerable. As matters are, everything goes much easier and is a great deal more reliable than if carriers were hired casually.

The Niger Company is sharply, even bitterly, criticised for the time occupied in goods reaching consignees in the tin fields’ area. The fact should be remembered and counted as an element of consideration that not only is the country new but that the tin-mining industry has come unexpectedly and with a rush and no public or private concern in the land which is actively involved can cope with the mountain of requirements which have arisen. Railways, roads—where there were not so much as bush paths—and transfer of thousands of men from one occupation to another are not evolved in a day, or a year, by the mere want of them. They cannot be produced by a Governor’s proclamation, the most potent document in Northern Nigeria. They take time; and attempts to do things too hastily, regardless of special local difficulties, mean courting a complete breakdown.

Decidedly it would not do for men to come to railhead and bid against one another for carriers. That would mean the individual with the longest purse would always be first, and the cost to everyone would be more than it is. If the Niger Company at Rahama is advised well in advance of a person’s wants he is seldom, if ever, kept waiting. Goods cannot be forwarded at once. A man and his immediate belongings are. Of course, people must not expect 300 carriers apiece. The plan is to allow sufficient for personal requirements—I think 30 carriers to an individual is the present limit—and an ample margin beyond. Engaging and taking away a large number of carriers might be a trick to keep other persons back.

Above everything, I am informed, is it necessary to let the officer in charge at Rahama know as long as possible in advance. Whilst I was there a man who had not given previous notice of his requirements offered to pay more than anybody else, and was willing to put the money down on the spot, if he could be immediately supplied with carriers. His offer was declined. The transport officer acted on the principle of the Company, that having taken in hand persons’ needs it was morally bound to comply with them, as though there had been a contract. It seems to me that the work at Rahama is regulated by a sense of responsibility and fairness.

In obtaining a pony for trekking there is a broader choice. It can be bought from or through the Niger Company or purchased direct from a dealer in Rahama Town, near by. I should not advise the latter way. The horse dealer here is not far removed in instinct from his counterpart in England. He takes stock of his client and acts accordingly. “He savvy plenty he be Bako Bature”—“He recognises that the buyer is a stranger white man,” as a Hausa interpreter expressed the situation to me—and therefore fair game. Although the horse merchant has not been a deep or diligent student of the works of Adam Smith and John Stuart Mill, and probably cannot read or write a word in any language, he estimates to a nicety the extreme doctrine of political economy, and nobody knows better how to hold the market and shape his bargains after that preliminary.

A horse for which £12 is asked in Rahama Town can be bought through the Niger Company for £8, 10s. I will not give my own experience as it might be thought I was favoured. I will relate two cases of fellow-passengers which came under my notice, as each showed me his mount for an opinion. One went direct to a Rahama dealer and paid £8, 5s. for an object on four legs, which, poor beast, seemed inured against the persuasion of reins or whip Another passenger had from the Niger Company a black Katsena pony—next to the Pagan horse, the best type for trekking in a country of broken roads and stone-stepping spruits—at £8.

One must not expect at Rahama a fiery, untamed, prancing Arab. Untamed, possibly yes; more probably, utterly broken in spirit and with a mouth as firm as granite. No novice need fear getting on top, and if he does roll off there is not far to fall, for the average height appears to be from 12 to 14 hands.

Should a horse be wanted for settled use in the country it ought to be obtained at Zaria or Kano, the latter greatly for preference.

A further word of advice. Bring saddle and bridle from England. Any for sale here are immediately snapped up. Owing to the competition a man will likely have to pay more for an English bridle and saddle falling to pieces than the cost of a new one at home plus the expense of carriage out.

The Niger Company bullock transport for the tin fields keeps 150 animals going, worked when necessary in teams of 16. Thirty oxen will draw 12 two-wheeled carts of half-a-ton carrying capacity at an average speed of 10 to 12 miles a day. The men who drive were taken over from the old cart transport between Zungeru and Kano, instituted by Sir Frederick Lugard previous to the railway being laid. The training on the road was done by drivers from India, many of whom had passed through the military transport service there, to which no doubt is to be traced some of the words used. The bullocks shamble off hearing “Tashi!” the Hausa word for “Start!” and stop at the sound of “Halt!”

Besides bullock carts and wagons, donkeys are also used in the dry season for the tin fields’ work, not in traction but in pannier style. They are cheaper than human carriers. A donkey will take the load of two of them, and one man—the owner of the animals hired—looks after three. The donkeys have not to be supplied with provender. They fend for themselves on the march, feeding on the dry stalk of the guinea corn—in some cases an inch in diameter—after the ear has been garnered.

The Rahama branch of the Niger Company is in charge of Mr Percy Garrard, who had Government experience in South Africa, East Africa and India. His post is far from being an enviable one, especially on the arrival of a train, when perhaps several men who have given no notice of their coming want to be horsed, equipped with carriers and away in a twinkling. Though his position is one where many of us would turn savagely on folks harassing us to death, or at least to distraction, Mr Garrard does nothing of the sort. He just does the best he can for everybody, giving precedence for those for whom he has prepared and fitting up the others as quickly as he is able. He works rapidly, as he must or he would be overwhelmed by the continuous stream of matters claiming attention.

He is one of the most remarkable individuals to be met with in Northern Nigeria. Not alone that he is incessantly occupied, doing things at lightning speed and yet never becomes flurried nor loses his temper, it seems incredible that the whole of the transport work at Rahama is directed by him with only one European to assist in the multifarious duties, which commence at high pressure at 6 a.m., and continue at an equal rate throughout the day.

Nobody has so many pressing requests from impatient travellers. Everybody who arrives from the Coast of course wants carriers at once, probably needs a horse, and, more likely than not, wishes to take with him more packages than there are carriers to bear them.

All these desires are urged on Mr Garrard, and, naturally, each person believes his own business to be more urgent than that of anybody else. The wonderful thing is that Garrard not only tries to please everyone, but, notwithstanding the tragic fate of he who in fable attempted a similar result, Garrard succeeds, although it is seldom possible to do all that is asked. He has an infinite capacity for what is known as getting on with people. All speak well of him; in fact, that is putting the position too mildly; they speak of him enthusiastically. A couple of men who were out for their second year and had been through Rahama four times said to me, “If you write a book on your travels you should include Garrard’s photograph. We would cut out the picture and carry it with us, and whenever we happened to be annoyed at not having forwarded things we wanted, whilst we were miles away in the bush, we could look at Garrard’s portrait and that would give us pleasurable recollections and tone down anger at the delay.”

The offices and stores of the Company are corrugated iron sheets, not fixed together to form a wall, but merely touching one another, leaning on bamboo frames and covered by a dried-grass roof. The whole thing is taken to pieces and carried forward as the railway line advances and is put together at each new railhead.

Rahama is also the clearing centre outwards. To it, from different districts, comes tin, which is sent by the Bauchi Light Railway to Zaria, then transferred to the Baro-Kano Line and taken to Baro, where it is carried down the River Niger and shipped to England.