The First Visit to Togo - The Trip Home

Malaria

The World Health Organization estimates that yearly 300-500 million cases of malaria occur and more than 1 million people die of malaria.

Burnt out, and Andy sick as a dog with malaria, we left Yikpa after having enjoyed the fabulous hospitality of the chief and his family. We headed north, with the plan to sell the truck and to catch a plane in Niamey back to Europe.

The first night back on the road we had just pulled over on the side of the road and slept in the bed of the truck. I remember waking up freezing cold, shivering in my light sleeping bag, but unable to move from excruciating pain all over my body, and a pounding headache. Lying there, staring at the stars near the equator, I finally came to the conclusion, that shivering like this in a 80-degree tropical night could only mean that I was running a wicked fever. That, in turn, probably meant that I also had come down with malaria. So, unable to move from the pain, out in the bush like this, I concluded that the only likely resolution for this situation would be to croak, curled up in my sleeping bag, shivering, while staring at the Milky Way.

I laid there for hours, waiting for either dawn or death. I think that eventually Andy woke up and realized what was going on. He got me some water and a handful of aspirin, which is what we used to treat his malaria attacks. I must have fallen asleep after that, because I remember waking up, completely drenched in sweat. The fever had broken, and I began to feel a bit better. But I was still weak, my knees were shaky, and I could feel every muscle in my body.

We motored on, north, toward Dapaong. We hoped to sell the truck in Dapaong, because it had elicited the greatest interest there (except for the guy who stood us up in Lomé). In Dapaong, we drove around, trying to find the guy who had made us the most reasonable offer three weeks ago. When we finally found him, and asked if his offer was still valid, he proceeded to look the truck all over. We were in a bad negotiating position at this point. The truck had clearly taken a beating in the mountains. And just the fact that we were back put us in a really awkward position.

Finally he made Andy an offer that was roughly half of his previous offer. Andy was totally pissed off, and we left. We drove around, and everywhere we stopped to discuss the price, the price dropped a bit more. The French guys had warned us. The longer you wait, and the more offers you get, the lower the price will be. Often the person who really wants the vehicle will hire a couple of straw men to make lower offers, and when you come back, the offer will be yet lower.

Furious, but left with not much of a choice, Andy took an offer, that was just a bit lower than the first one we got that day - at truly a laughable price. We went to the local magistrate and did the paperwork. Then Andy got his money, we got our stuff and the dog, handed over the keys and the papers, and headed to the taxi station. We rented a taxi to take us to Niamey.