While we were coming to him, I noticed his friends, or I should say, guards close to him were just smiling as we approached him. They didn’t do a thing. I said, ‘Salam aleikum, ya Salif,’ and he responded in Arabic, even though he speaks English fluently. One of the guards said, ‘We are Nigerians, right?’ He asked in English, and I said yes. They all laughed out loud and said to Salif that I told you they are Nigerians
My encounter with Salif Qadafi, late Col. Qaddafi’s son – Living in Libya | By Femi Omidiji
It was sometime around 1996 or 97; I can’t really remember the year precisely, and it was during Ramadan. We usually gathered at a cinema in a place called Dahra, a metropolitan area in Tripoli, a lovely highbrow area where most Nigerians come to show off. As Nigerians, that’s what we do; we like to shop where even Libyans find it hard to shop. We entertain at the best Funduke, meaning hotels. We just love all the good things of life, that’s who we are outside of the country.
So, this very lovely evening, while hanging out in Dahra, there is this park where the crème de la crème of the neighborhood play soccer every evening before the break of fast. Salif, I believe, had a friend who lived in the neighborhood and was invited to come play soccer with them. We noticed that the security in the area was tense. We didn’t know what was happening, so we just hung around after watching a movie called The Shawshank Redemption, which I quite remember.
Some Libyan national players were spotted, and we knew the park was going to welcome some dignitaries because the security around the park was top-notch. I asked a Libyan friend what was going on, and he said Akuma, meaning a government official, is coming. He didn’t even know it was Qaddafi’s son who was coming.
After a while, everywhere was filled up with high-ranking government officials, though young guys, mostly sons of close pals of Qaddafi. The funny thing is that most Libyans in the area had to just avoid the area, but trust Nigerians, we stayed put, as we were not harassed by any security officials, so we had no cause to leave. We all looked good and presentable; you dare not come to Dahra looking shabby.
I have a friend called Muyiwa; it was him who made me know that it was Salif who was being expected, that he was around already at a corner with some few security guards. I asked where, he pointed the direction, and I said let’s go meet him. He asked if I was mad; I said let’s go joor. He was a little reluctant. You see, I had stayed with the highest security agency at a police barracks in Libya for almost a year when I was in Sabha, so I had no fear of guns. These guys may look all scary and tough, but they are just normal guys like us.
Muyiwa said he wasn’t going to follow me; I persuaded him, and he yielded eventually. Other Nigerians listening were like, ‘You guys are crazy,’ even the Libyans around were just looking with dismay as we walked straight to where he was, sitting in the midst of his security details in a black Jeep. The screen of the car was down, so we could see him. While we were coming to him, I noticed his friends, or I should say, guards close to him were just smiling as we approached him. They didn’t do a thing. I said, ‘Salam aleikum, ya Salif,’ and he responded in Arabic, even though he speaks English fluently. One of the guards said, ‘We are Nigerians, right?’ He asked in English, and I said yes. They all laughed out loud and said to Salif that I told you they are Nigerians.
I continued by saying in Arabic that we are honored to see him and how we really love his dad and all. He just nodded and said, ‘Sukaran ya sodik,’ meaning thank you, my friend. He didn’t speak English; he asked, ‘Shino ismok?’ meaning what is your name. ‘Habib,’ I replied, and I introduced Muyiwa, who also had an Arabian name, which I can’t remember. He asked some questions and how long we’d been in Libya and so on.
He shook hands with us and asked us to join him on the field, that he came to play Kora, meaning football, with his friends. We were delighted.
When it was time for him to come into the park, we were given safe passage to go into the park, though we never played, as we didn’t have kits and weren’t prepared.
It was a beautiful moment. Read More
