We have gotten to Tamaransset  pronounce as / *Tamanghasset* / is the capital of Tamaransset Province in southern Algeria, in the Ahaggar Mountains. 

Mostly dominated by the Algerian Tuaregs. Getting here in trickle from various countries, we heard there is still a long way to go before we could get to our destination. News filtered in that Rebel forces are increasing geometrically to topple the government of Colone Muammar Al-Gaddafi and we may encounter hostility ahead of the journey. This migratory route have led many Africans to Europe. through Libya. We have heard of horrible tales from migrants who survived the long torture of the Sahara Desert. How some tribal forces along the way launch attacks on travelers and stripped them of every possession.

 

I was drawn to these group of young men who were determined to escape from the harsh economic blows in their home countries. Thirty six (36) of us happened to have a common goal. *To cross the Mediterranean sea.* Our group comprises of *six Ghanaians, Seven Nigerians, three Chadians,  two Togolese,  three Malians, four Cameroonians, five Senegalis, four Burkinabes, One Benin and me, the Only Nigerien*.  We all have fragmented knowledge of the mission ahead and relied heavily on each other since some of us are multilingual, helping out in asking for directions from the locals as we advance our course.

 

We have maps, routes marked out with few tips on the routes given us by some agents who escorted us earlier on but have to return to lead others coming behind us. 

We camped at Tamaransset, exhausted our provisions and could not advance further. The tribal indigenes, mostly Tuaregs, could not offer us any job since we were strangers and could hardly be trusted. The lack of funds delayed us here for almost five days. Individuals have to sell phones and pooled  resources together to purchase food and drinking water. 

We got used to the communal life and started getting interested in knowing where each person came from. Mr Chinedu one of the Nigerians came to be fond of me because he noticed i speak pidgin English like a Nigerian.  I told him I have been to Lagos and Port Harcourt. Also, I have travelled as far south as Calabar the second time I visited Nigeria from my country, Niger Republic.  He was the last to sell his phone after removing the Sim card, secured it in his backpack and bought food and four bottled water for our usual rationing. We had nothing save the four bottles of water which was rationed until the last bottle. It dawn on us that there is no way we could make it to Tahifet or even Idlès as instructed on the maps. We had to turn around and journey on foot towards the border town of In Guezzam, close to the Algerian-Nigerien Border. It took me more than two hours to persuade the group of a retreat to my home Country since we can't survive more than few days under the hot scotching sun in the Sahara desert.

 

We trekked non-stop from sunrise the following day till about past 5pm, exhausted and decided to observe rest along the lonely road. The last bottled water was rationed, each persons drinking few drops and passing it on until the very last left the  orifice. 

 

Few minutes later, flashes of light beamed from a distance. A vehicle was approaching from   behind, heading toward us. With the last vigor we could summon, we flagged it down, praying that it stops for our rescue. Luckily, it stopped few distance away and i walked sluggishly towards him, hands on my head. If you have watched the *Walking Dead*, you will understand how we looked like then.  I sighted  in relief upon seeing the plate number bearing Niger Republic. After exchange of greetings with the lone driver, i pleaded to him to save us since we were stranded and could not help ourselves. He looked with an inquisitive  face  and agreed to help us with a free ride to the Niger Border. However he expressed regret that not all of will board his Hilux Pickup. To be continued.