All hail DHL!
Abuja Travel Blog› entry 52 of 98 › view all entries
In the end I called Iseko and he sent his mechanic who still owed me money from the wrong battery he got me.Â I flat refused to give him my new battery, where the battery goes I go! I told him so we jumped into his car.Â This guy was everything you would expect from the stories of Nigerians and every time he opened his mouth to speak I could smell crap.Â We picked up coolant for the bike and then ended up in this dirty dusty area filled with buses, lorries, cars with a small stream of black sewage water running through it.Â There was a row of small wooden shacks and as I walked towards it all the demons where shouting at me not to leave the battery here but what choice do I have so checked it out.Â Stacked randomly on the ground was about a dozen batteries, large ones, car batteries about four high.Â The positive and negative terminals were all linked in a chain, one to the other with the bared copper wire tail bashed into the lead terminal.Â I inspected his charger and asked if he could slow charge it, the African yes was the answer which meant one of four things: yes, no, maybe, I have no idea.Â I had no choice and my new battery was placed on top of the pile and linked into the chain of batteries to the flash of sparks as he connected the last connection in the chain.Â He powered up the charger and the hairs on my neck stood up, from nervous fear not the static, there was no loud bang and I checked his charging current, 3Amp.Â He had no voltmeter, which is like running a bar without a bottle opener, I told him only charge it for 1hour, NO MORE!Â Â Â Â
When I got
the battery back its charge was still very low, better under than over charged
and busted.Â It was just enough to start
the bike and I headed to the