The Expatriate Episode 1: The Journey

"Things are already looking up," Wapi thought to himself as he watched the stewardess walk down the aisle. He had just discovered that beer on the aircraft was complimentary, which meant he could have as much as he wanted, and this came as a most welcome surprise. Though Terry Graves had promised to "see him alright" when he arrived in England, he preferred to keep hold of as much of his foreign exchange as possible until then.

Wapi felt he had every right to his current euphoria. A smile brightened his mischevious face as his mind went back to some of the events that led to his current situation...UK bound, at last. It had been a monumantal struggle to collect and keep several hundred thousand leones together, and even more difficult to convert it to hard currency on the black market.

"Yeah man." he reached up for the button to summon the stewardess and order another beer, but switched on the reading light instead. He immediately switched it off and looked around sheepishly to see whether his gaffe had been observed. He found the right button. "Can you serve me another beer?" he asked the stewardess when she responded. A lingering suspicion that there might yet be a bill for all this beer made his voice hesitant, but he was worrying unneccessarily and he accepted the free beer and returned to his thoughts.

2)Wapi reflected on the good fortune that had led to him becoming acquainted with Terry Graves. It was a classic example of the luck that had earned him his nickname. At school, all he had needed to do was pick up the dice, shake and roll, then...Wapi! he'd won again. This uncanny luck that followed him all of his life had led to him quickly becoming a recognized face to all pupils at Prince of Wales School, and rendered the name Gabriel Adolphus Johnson obsolete. Everyone that knew him called him Wapi. Even his mother held out only until he reached Form 3. It was when one of his teachers had written in a report card, "Wapi must try harder," that she had finally given up the struggle. Up until then she had stubbornly insisted when his schoolfriends dropped by the house, "My son is Gabriel, there is no Wapi here!"

Wapi still couldn't understand why an ordinary English bloke, as Terry called himself, was so willing to render such help to someone like him, but he had long since learned not to question his luck. It had never let him down. He didn't know why Terry had engaged him in conversation at the Lagoonda or how they had come to be discussing the difficulties of obtaining a UK visa. However, at the end of the night and three pints short of a carton of Star beer, Wapi & Terry had become such grat friends that Terry had promised to write Wapi a letter of invitation whenever he wanted to travel. In fact Terry told Wapi he was welcome to stay at his place in London, until he found his feet.

3)The plane was little more than an hour away from London Gatwick airport. Wapi felt a glow of pride at the fact that he was baout to join that rank of Sierra Leoneans that had landed at this most revered of airports. Would he suffer the same fate as thousands before him? To land, pass through the airport and never see his homeland again? Home again. Home again. When shall I see my home...? He realised he was singing aloud.

Thoughts of those he'd left behind filled Wapi's head. He could already see the difference between the western world and the third world. Here he was almost at Gatwick while Mama and Florence (the girlfriend that his mother knew) had still not got back to Freetown after seeing him off at Lungi airport.

The plane dived steeply and seemed to accelerate. By the rection of the other passengers it seemed Wapi had nothing to fear. They all seemed calm, as if nothing was out of the ordinary. Wapi played it cool.

Ding Dong! Then the voice of the pilot came over the intercom. Wapi was convinced now that there was trouble. He'd had his doubts about whether his luck would travel with him across water. He was sure now that it hadn't. All that trouble just to die less than an hour from England. "Yeah. Savisman Cry." His panic was misplaced and premature as the announcement turned out to about starting the descent into Gatwick. Wapi needed no second telling to fasten his seat belt. In fact when the stewardess came past checking the passengers, she advised him to loosen it a little so he could breathe properly.

4)At last they were on the ground and slowing down. The last forty minutes or so had been hell for Wapi. No matter how badly a poda poda was being driven, you could jump off if you'd had enough, and there were few better masters of Jamawass than Wapi on the Wilkinson Road. These airplanes were a different matter. Once you were on, you couldn't jump off. Wapi felt like he was the only person aboard travelling for the first time. Everyone else seened so sure of themselves. The aircraft had come to a stop and most of the other passengers were on their feet and reaching into the overhead lockers to retrieve their hand luggage. Wapi reached for the hold-all beneath his chair. He didn't have much luggage. Just one suitcase in the hold and this one piece of hand luggage. He joined the line shuffling towards the exit and the standard "good day, thanks for flying with us" routine. With the doors now open he could feel a hint of the cold air outside on his face. He was not concerned as he had warned in advance so he had a good sweater and a thick jacket. These items and a scarf had been left behind by his cousin Tola when he'd holidayed in Freetown the previous December. Wapi felt ready for anything the November night could throw at him. He wasn't. As he got to the exit door the cold air hit him. Dealt a palpable blow to his system. "Lord have mercy!" He was shivering immediately and his nose was running. All this in the short distance from the top of the stairs and the shuttle bus to the terminal. He realised he was going to have to rethink his whole strategy towards winter.

The airport itself was mind blowing. Such a massive construction with so many people milling about, but none of them offering to carry your luggage for you or see you through Customs & Immigration like at Lungi. What a building! Moving walkways, escalators, electronic noticeboards. When will Salone develop to this standard? That unanswerable question had taxed many minds greater than Wapi's.

5)Wapi was walking slowly towards what he knew to be his greatest test so far. Getting past immigration. He hoped that Terry Graves was outside waiting for him. Terry had asked him not to let his cousin Tola know of his arrival until they got to Terry's place. He had been quite concerned that Wapi should go straight to his place and stay for a couple of days before letting anyone know he was around. Although Wapi didn't know Terry's reasons, he was happy not to question these instructions from someone that had contributed to his airfare, helped with obtaining his visa, and promised more money on arrival in London. The only suspicion Wapi had was perhaps that Terry was gay and might be expecting a physical favor or return for his efforts. Wapi allayed his fears by recalling the voracious appetite with which Terry had displayed with the Lumley based kolonko's.

As he approached his turn at the immigration desk, Wapi reached into the holdall for his documents. All he had in that holdall were his documents, and the package Terry had asked him to collect from his friend Simeon Cole at Kingtom. Wapi had taken special care of this parcel. He did not know the significance of the package to either Simeon Cole or Terry, but as it was the only favor his European benefactor had asked of him, he was more than happy to oblige. Furthermore, if you were able to get involved with the likes of Sim Cole then you were starting to move with the big boys.

It was now Wapi's turn at the counter. He put his documents on the table as the middle-aged white man looked at him, hoping to find a discrepancy between his passport photo and his physical features. There was none sufficient to arouse his suspicion. As it was the last flight of his double shift, the officer was not keen to embark on a course of action that would involve a deportation order and the attendant mountain of paperwork. Had the officer not been in this frame of mind he might have made more of the fact that Wapi, a low level civil servant, was embarking on a two month holiday in mid November. Wapi moved on.

6)After retrieving his suitcase Wapi moved towards Customs. He followed the crowd walking towards the green Nothing To Declare channel. Ahead of him he recognized someone he knew vaguely from Freetown. In fact he'd seen him a few days ago. "He was leaving Sim Cole's office as I arrived to collect Terry's package," Wapi recalled. "Tayo Dawson, that's his name."

Tayo had been stopped and now had a number of Customs officers sifting vigorously through his belongings. Another officer, a female, stopped Wapi and asked to examine his luggage though her attention was clearly distracted by what was happening at the other table. Wapi's officer had her hand on the package for Terry Graves when the commotion increased nearby. She was summoned to a huddled conference with her colleagues. Within seconds Customs officers were everywhere and Tayo Dawson, with a look of complete bewilderment on his face, was hauled off behind the screens along with his two suitcases. It was all quiet again as suddenly as the excitement had begun.

Wapi was puzzled. He stood waiting for a few moments, then put Terry's package back in the holdall, picked up his suitcase, and headed for the exit. What he did not know was that for Terry Graves, it had been an average kind of day. Of his two unwitting drug couriers, one was facing a significant stretch in prison, then deportation, and the other, Wapi, was through, free and clear.

Glossary:

Savisman: Streetwise, wideboy, hustler, are all possible English interpretations of the word.

Poda Poda: Privately owned passenger mini buses that ply set routes. A relatively cheap method of commuting. Akin to Jamaican Mammy Lorries.

Jamawass: (The German Wash) The art of entering or exiting a Poda Poda while it is in motion.