There’s but one word you need to know: Slok Air.
Yes, Slok Air (wait a minute…didn’t he say one word?). As my plans for the mid-semester break are being finalized, and the trip to Ghana to visit Devon is being planned (wait, is he really planning? Gasp!), I’ve come to realize that the Alhalm trip that I took from Kaolak to Tamba, rather than be the exception, is in fact the rule. And Slok Air is definitely the Alham of the African skies (hey, maybe they should hire me as a marketing consultant).
Let me explain.
First, a bit about Slok Air, just to scare the pants off of yall (I can’t believe he just said that. That’s it. I’m not reading anything else by him. Ever again.) and to hear you say “Wow, what a brave kid that Jake is.” Slok air is the airline that I will be traveling from Dakar to Accra and back, and happened to be the cheapest ticket. The fact that they issued me a handwritten ticket should have been my first indication that something was up. But this is Africa, and I believe that the power was off when I went to make my purchase so I just figured it was the travel agency’s version of candles: a low tech, if somewhat inconvenient, backup when government incompetence and infrastructural mismanagement collide.
A brief, but relatively easy Google search revealed the following facts: that Slok Air used to be run out of Nigeria before it had its license to operate suspended (which sounds much more exciting and dangerous than the truth – it was shut down as part of the president’s anti-corruption crusade). After it was kicked out of Nigeria, it immediately (were talking same-month immediately) reopened in the Gambia where it is currently headquartered. The mighty Slok Air fleet is a whole 6 Boeing jets with a medium-to-biggish digit (I’m thinking 5 or 6) in between the two 7’s.
But how is all this like an alham? Well, apart of the incredible sketchiness of it all, my arrival in Accra will be preceded by short stops in Banjul, capital of the Gambia, Freetown, capital of Sierra Leone, and Monrovia, capital of Liberia. Like an Alham ride, the vehicle makes stops at almost every conceivable place along the way to pick up and discharge passengers (in the case of an alham, the person standing on the side of the road will suffice, in the case of Slok Air, an airport, no matter if its located in a country that was just a few years ago in the throes of civil war). Like an Alham ride also, the tickets are handwritten. Like an Alham they’re both cheaper, and more frequent than the 7place (which in the African aviation world is probably something more like Air Senegal – more expensive and cramped, but faster).
But don’t worry Mom, I’m sure that this whole adventure is perfectly safe. A Google news search of Slok Air turns up nothing but a few articles about guys railing about corruption in Nigeria, and I’m pretty sure that someone somewhere would have written something if a plane crashed in Africa. Furthermore, the fact that it is/was based out of Nigeria is probably a good thing since Nigeria is something like the regional powerhouse on account of all its oil money – which explains how they could afford the Boeing 75/67s. And that’s probably the best bet of it all – the fact that I’ll be traveling in (relatively) modern American made airplanes.
In fact, the biggest issue that could arise is that I get caught in a massive collision of government incompetence and infrastructural mismanagement that seems to wrack and paralyze developing countries.
Which means that the most likely scenario for disaster has me sitting in a Boeing 75/67, on the runway of a former war-torn country, counting goats as they’re strapped to the roof of my plane.
Let’s just hope I don’t get goat peed on.
Love,
Jake
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