Trafficking Suspicions on Sunday Morning

Morning Preparations

Getting up early this morning for church, we had a few things to do before leaving, like preparing the apartment for cleaning. The owner was coming whilst we were out to change the linen and sort out the Wi-Fi password, amongst other things. What a job she did when we returned.

However, following my last blog, I might be persuaded to act, though I am still considering the implications. This is the situation.

Blog - Flies on the Wall of Evil

An Unusual Pickup

We hailed an Uber Comfort cab to take us to church. Upon confirmation, it was to arrive in seven minutes. When it arrived, it did not drive up to the pickup point but parked further down at the junction with the main road. I had to send him a message asking him to drive up the road.

Meanwhile, Brian walked up to speak to the driver, only to find that he was not in the car; he had stepped into the corner shop to get something. By then, I had walked up to the car, and the driver told us he had gone into the shop.

In an ideal situation, the driver should have come to pick us up and then asked to get something from the shop, or sent us a message saying he was delayed before picking us up. Parking the car down the street without following clear Uber directions and not informing us was rather off.

I did not question his need to go shopping, but where he stopped bothered me, since every other Uber that has picked us up or dropped us off at our residence has always driven up the road to the apartment block entrance. Apart from his explanation, there was no apology.

Falling Short of Comfort Standards

Now, an Uber Comfort cab is supposed to be a better car: well-maintained, usually air-conditioned, and driven by someone you can engage in conversation with. The slightly higher cost is not just a luxury proposition, but comfort and ease with some personality.

Yet here we were in a car with a nonchalant driver. The vehicle was not clean, there was no conversation or engagement, and the driving was just passable. Evidently, this driver did not own the vehicle.

In appearance and demeanour, we had every negative feeling on this ride experience, and that is as much as was volunteered to me in our conversations on the passenger back seats. From the music playing on the radio, it was again Shona, and from his manner, this was probably someone from the rural areas of Zimbabwe.

A Troubling Possibility

Putting two and two together, could we have just met someone trafficked from Zimbabwe, driving for a syndicate of gangmasters who are exploiting the vulnerable for profit? Every indication would suggest that to be the case. For that reason, I could not give him a low rating, and even if he were tipped, the money would probably not end up in his pocket.

The options in the Uber app to “Report safety issue” do not include the kind of concern I want to raise. It does make me wonder if Uber is in any way aware of the issue covered in my other blog post about syndicates registering vehicles with fake identities and trafficking drivers to South Africa to work for slavery wages.

A Google NotebookLM AI Audio Overview Discussion of this blog

Childhood: Concerns, memories, and traumas

Classic inadvertent abandonment

I happened upon a Facebook status at the end of last year, where there was a discussion about some parents sending their foreign-born kids back to Nigeria to apparently teach the kids discipline and resilience along with avoiding any possibility of their kids being dragged into inner city issues like drugs, gangs, and crime.

After reading some of the comments and one especially of a parent who had successfully reared kids in America and could not countenance the idea of sending their children into the care of strangers, be they relations, paid guardians, or strict/conservative boarding schools, I offered a perspective of my own experience.

The lifelong consequence

Imagine being sent from a private primary school environment with a majority international pupillage in Kaduna to a boarding school in Sagamu, Ogun State, at the age of ten. It could have been worse as I had admissions to even more remote places.

The lasting effects of that experience apart from feeling abandoned even if it helped make me both independent and resilient, not that it was unachievable at home, but my parents knew best.

As a child, I was quite outgoing, precocious, and inquisitive, with independent views. I have decidedly refused to associate with old student activities at my secondary school, nor do I retain any enduring friendships from that time. The scars are lifelong.

A rash of parental control

I suffered serious child psychological issues just months before I was shipped off and then in the first term at boarding school, that my parents' closest friends pled with them to bring me back home, those appeals fell on deaf ears, as if they had not learnt from the experiences of being placed with foster parents in England, one of such even starved me, much of that, I have blanked out of my mind.

These seemingly benign parental decisions still affect my relationship with them, and they are both octogenarians. There might be an immediate benefit to fostering your children out to strict environments, but the long-term break in the familial bonds would scarcely ever be repaired.

While there are parents who still think the boarding school experience is a rite of passage that is wholesome and germane to child development, if I was blessed with offspring, I would have totally negated some of decisions taken as part of my upbringing. I know many parents of my generation did not repeat that vicious cycle.

I speak as someone who will be fifty-nine in less than a week. I charted my own course and chose what was good for me in the scheme of things. Some memories are best left unrecalled. [This was drafted before my birthday in December 2024.]