Wary Nigerians Urge Better Airline Safety -- and Pray

Washington Post Foreign Service
Sunday, November 5, 2006; Page A20

ABUJA, Nigeria, Nov. 4 -- Nigerians long reveled in their freewheeling aviation culture, swapping stories about seeing cows on runways or dashing frantically onto tarmacs 30 minutes after official takeoff times, and still being allowed on flights.

But three fatal accidents in the past year, culminating with last Sunday's crash of a Boeing 737 moments after takeoff, have terrified travelers and fueled calls for a new focus on airline safety in a country where the highways are even more dangerous.


Wreckage of the ADC Airlines 737 that crashed last Sunday litters an area near the Abuja airport. In the past year, three commercial plane crashes in Nigeria have killed more than 320 people.
Wreckage of the ADC Airlines 737 that crashed last Sunday litters an area near the Abuja airport. In the past year, three commercial plane crashes in Nigeria have killed more than 320 people. (Photos By Craig Timberg -- The Washington Post)

"Flying by air, your heart is in your mouth," said Mimi Anomuogharan, 27, a student who was sitting in Abuja's Nnamdi Azikwe Airport on Friday. "Plane crashes in Nigeria have become too rampant. . . . Too many people have died."

Anomuogharan had just arrived in Abuja, Nigeria's capital, from the southern city of Benin, after spending most of the hour-long flight muttering prayers, she said. When the plane hit a patch of rough air, another passenger cried out for God's mercy. "It was terrible," she said.

Nigeria is Africa's most populous country, with 130 million people jammed in an area twice the size of California. The vast majority of Nigerians lack the money to fly, but government officials, business executives, students and professionals have for years moved easily about the country, paying about $80 each way for flights to more than a dozen commercial airports.

Advance bookings rarely were necessary, or possible, and planes often waited on tarmacs until enough passengers arrived to fill available seats. Security was lax, and if the planes often looked past their prime, the skies at least were free of the armed robbers, giant potholes and bribe-hungry police common on many Nigerian highways.

"My nervousness is worse on the road," Abayomi Awe, 53, a physician with the federal Health Ministry, said as he waited for a flight from Abuja to Lagos, Nigeria's commercial center. "You have to choose between the two evils. This one is the lesser one."

The Lagos-Abuja air route has long been an especially essential artery for Nigeria, with some civil servants making the trip almost every week. Many of the country's potpourri of airlines fly the route several times a day.

A Boeing 737 on a Lagos-Abuja run, Bellview Flight 210, crashed on Oct. 22, 2005, the first in the spate of accidents. Seven weeks later, a DC-9 owned by Sosoliso Airlines crashed in Port Harcourt in the southern oil-producing region. Dozens of high school students returning home for Christmas holidays were among those killed.

Yet the crash Sunday may have been the most unsettling to many here: Several prominent Nigerians, including two senators and the sultan of Sokoto, the spiritual leader of the country's estimated 65 million Muslims, were among the victims.

On Friday, the tail of the Boeing 737 -- with the insignia of its owner, ADC Airlines, clearly visible -- still sat propped against a tree in the cornfield where the plane had plunged to the ground. Old shoes, juice boxes and torn pieces of clothing remained scattered among charred, mangled engine parts and an intact wheel from the landing gear. A burnt smell lingered in the air.

Taken together, the three accidents killed more than 320 people.

President Olusegun Obasanjo this week grounded ADC Airlines and replaced his aviation minister. But criticism of the government has not eased, with many Nigerians contending that corruption allowed airlines to skimp on maintenance. Others said they suspected that inspections have not been nearly rigorous enough.

"The government has to be serious on the regulatory role," Awe said. "They haven't been doing enough."

With faith in the airlines and in the government running low, many travelers have turned to prayer.

"I'm very nervous," said Nnenna Mazi, 21, as she waited in the domestic departure area of the Abuja airport, midpoint in her trip from Kano, a northern city where she has been participating in the national youth service program, to her home in Port Harcourt. "I had to start praying about the flights like two days before I took off."

The rash of accidents also has driven customers to airlines regarded as safer, including Virgin Nigeria Airways, owned in part by the British-based Virgin Atlantic, and AeroContractors, a decades-old airline that predominantly served Nigeria's oil industry before expanding into general commercial service. A new airline, Arik Air, started flying on Monday, boasting of new jets and "European safety standards."

Arik Air is following the lead of Virgin Nigeria and Aero in enforcing rules against late passengers. Though aviation experts say such orderliness is essential to running safe airlines, the development is jarring to many travelers here.

Pius Agbude, 42, a banker from Lagos, said he arrived 15 minutes before his 12:30 p.m. Arik Air flight was scheduled to take off on Friday. Airline officials turned him away. The message was delivered a bit rudely, he said, but he respected the importance of rules. As he waited several hours for a 4:30 flight on the same airline, Agbude said he would fly Arik again.

"That has taught me a lesson," he said. "It's not going to be business as usual."

Yet other passengers were not so eager to wait.

Awe, who said he averages eight flights a month, at first wanted to take Virgin Nigeria to Lagos, but it was booked for the rest of the day. He considered Arik, but its next available flight would have required three hours of waiting in the Abuja airport. Awe instead chose an earlier flight on Bellview.

The decision left him nervous. And, shortly before the flight, Awe's daughter called on his cellphone, inquiring if he was going to make it back to Lagos for the weekend.

"By the grace of God," he told her, "I will still come."


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