The seed that made my fears grow was planted before I got on the plane. It was last Christmas and my destination was Owerri, in eastern Nigeria.

At the ticket counter, I paid an additional excess baggage fee and checked my bags. Further down the hall and to my right was the escalator, which took me to the second floor. There, on the second floor, my carry-on luggage went under the scanning device and my body searched. With the security clearance finished, I put on my shoes, belt, hat, retrieved my carry-on luggage, and walked a short distance to sit in one of the gleaming metal chairs.

Since I arrived early, an hour before boarding, I started reading a novel. Thirty minutes after reading, I heard the announcement of my name through the megaphone, as well as two other names. The announcer directed us to go down to the check-in counter.

Still in my seat, I waited and looked to see who my companions would be. A tall lanky man rose from the seated crowd. He walked away. After a while I followed him, a reasonable ten steps behind. We passed the small corner next to the security post and went down the escalators, and then we walked towards the check-in counters, behind which was a luggage room.

“They told me to get off,” the lanky man said to one of the airline staff who was standing in front of the luggage room.

“Ignore them,” the sentry replied to the lanky man. Suddenly, and without further clarification, the thin man turned and walked away. For a second I was tempted to join him as we were summoned together, our fate joined at the hip, I reasoned. As I wondered whether to follow the tall man or not, curiosity washed over me. It would be better to know the purpose of the call. I ignored the sentry’s advice and headed for the back room instead.

Inside the room were three men, two of them dragging bags on the conveyor belt and the third sitting on a small wooden stool. Around him were boxes and luggage from other travelers.

“Is this your bag sir?” the seated man said, pointing his finger.

“Yes, it’s my bag,” I replied.

“What’s in it?”

“My belongings, you can open it if you want.”

“No, Oga, Merry Christmas.” In addition to the seasonal greeting, the man started to smile and kept wishing me the best. If there was something in my luggage that was illegal or dangerous, the staff did not disclose it. Therefore, neither my luggage nor I deserved any special attention. However, any prolonged discussion may have aggravated the situation, so with a flash of a thousand naira note, I secured my freedom.

Back on the escalator, I made my way back upstairs, ready to go through security a second time. The security staff said, “Did you go through security before?”

“Yes,” I said, and they let me in, back to the waiting room, without repeating the search or the pat-down. Terrifying, I swore to myself. It was at this time that the seed of fear began to grow and take root. Any villain determined to wreak havoc would have taken advantage of the lax security procedure.

I couldn’t help but think how pervasive this bypassing procedure can be throughout the local aviation system.

By now, my senses were on high alert. Where a cockroach roams, there are many more. I looked around and the passenger waiting room was in a little riot. Every five to ten minutes, dozens of waiting passengers rushed anyone in uniform to inquire about the status of their flight. Was it the ad about a trip to Abuja, Enugu, Owerri, people asked? Confusion was everywhere. The aerial announcements were never clear. Information about flight delays did not arrive immediately; in fact, there was a general lack of diligence in informing passengers. I was worried about not knowing if the clutter was limited to luggage and security or if it was pervasive to the entire system.

My concern is that the wrong you see in the performance of these airlines may pale in comparison to what you don’t see. Yes, there have been some improvements over the years, but these improvements are not enough when it comes to a life and death scenario. Gone are the days when passengers loaded or retrieved their bags directly from the plane, but the progress made so far is not enough.

Why would an airline staff announce that a passenger approached the counter and someone else would contradict the announcement? Perhaps a lack of supervision, the extent and depth of which no one knows.

Nigerians do not want to find out the health of the local flight apparatus only when a plane falls from the sky. Now is the time to ask questions and demand strict procedures. What experts make sure airlines keep their planes in optimal flying condition at all times? Just because planes fly and land does not mean they meet maintenance standards. Nothing from officials delaying airplane maintenance to maximize profits. A system that allows a 1,000-naira note to bypass baggage inspection could easily allow a million naira to delay or bypass routine aircraft checks. Public access to the maintenance records of these airlines is justified.

However, my experience on board was somewhat different. Getting on the plane eased my fears a bit. The crews were professional and the passengers treated with respect. A voice from the cabin apologized for the delay and promised a pleasant flight.

My assigned seat was by the window, but there was already a man sitting there when I arrived. Seeing me, the man made a half-effort to shuffle out but, as fear had gripped me, I stopped him and instead took his seat, which was in the middle. From where I was sitting, my eyes searched for signs of a system not working. I found a crack in the back of a seat diagonally opposite me. The hallway floor was clean but dusty. To me these are all more signs that local airline systems and gadgets in Nigeria might not be working as properly as envisioned.

My mind started to rewind and I remembered the shock I went through before getting on the plane, the unnecessary announcement that I was going back to the check-in counter, and the fact that the security staff did not examine me again when I arrived. Return.

Forty-five minutes was all it took for the plane to reach Owerri. On board, the flight, drinks and snacks served temporarily took my mind off the fear.

After seven days in eastern Nigeria, he was ready for a return flight. At Samuel Mbakwe Airport, where my plane was waiting, the electricity was cut off twice in an hour. Later, I boarded the plane, unsure if the plane’s light would go out in the same way.

Halfway to our destination, at high altitude, the pilot began to make an announcement, but the voice was muffled and difficult to hear. I turned to my neighbor on the right and asked him what he thought of the unintelligible advertisement.

“It is because the plane is traveling at very high speed,” he replied. My heartbeat began to skip, and I must have looked as pale as the inside of a banana.

“Don’t worry,” the man told me, “we’ll land safely.”

Wake up, fellow citizens! There is a lot to worry about regarding local air flights in Nigeria. It is my sincere wish and prayer that all who travel with the many airlines arrive safely at their destinations. For this reason, airline employees and inspectors must undergo repeated weekly refresher courses and training. Records of employee training and airline inspections should be posted for everyone to inspect. Let’s avoid a tragedy before it happens.

Final