If your name isn’t on a list, you can forget it

Resting near the bank of the Niger River, the area surrounding Asaba Airport in Nigeria is quaint and rustic, with colourful rural homes resting between thick, lush bush that covers the landscape.

But the peaceful view was largely ignored last week when angry athletes and team managers were locked in a clash with local authorities on the sidelines of the African Athletics Championships.

Of all the things that were discussed and argued, shouted and screamed, the most burning issue addressed was the host nation’s frustrating obsession with names and lists.

The organisers were not very good at compiling or maintaining them, but they had lists for everything.

To get a visa on arrival, names had to be on lists.

Pole vaulter Ekhardt van der Watt was supposed to be on one of those lists, but an administrative blunder left him stranded for three days at OR Tambo before he was allowed to leave Johannesburg to join the rest of the SA team.

No matter how much he tried, with assistance from Athletics SA, the local organising committee (LOC) in Asaba and the airline carrying the SA squad were left floundering in response. What were they to do? After all, his name wasn’t on the list.

At the airport in Lagos, a bottleneck created by organisational blunders and poor planning created another nightmare conducted by men in orange vests yelling names on lists.

While there were no flight schedules, not nearly enough chairs for athletes to find seats, and a limited number of individuals who seemed to have any idea of what was going on, the airline personnel and LOC volunteers seemed satisfied that they @wesbotton had things under control. After all, they had written down lots of names, and they were all on lists.

The SA team joined various others from around the continent who were left to lounge around on the floor of the airport all day for two days with no confirmation of when they’d be able to leave. At night, they shared beds in lessthan-fitting accommodation, returning to the airport in the morning to check if their names were on lists.

Lists had to be continuously checked to ensure names hadn’t vanished, and when they had (which happened far more often than could be reasonably con- ceived), getting names back on lists required the perfect blend of patient understanding and furious revolt.

In Asaba, at the hotels, there were again names on lists.

There were too many athletes and not enough rooms, and one of the places used to house the SA team looked a bit like a set from a low-budget comedy horror film.

None of that seemed to concern the LOC, however, as long as names were on lists. Where all those names were supposed to be placed, nobody seemed to know. But the names were there, all neatly listed, and that’s what truly mattered.

At the stadium, there were lists ready and waiting at the accreditation collection centres.

There were lengthy delays in finalising entry, particularly to the media centre, and the LOC had forgotten to organise tables and chairs. But volunteers had pitched up with lists including all the names of accredited people who arrived at the stadium to work, and for that they could be proud.

The stadium was still under construction and the facilities were hampered by electrical, plumbing and safety issues, with athletes facing endless concerns throughout the week-long continental championships.

The LOC, however, has taken responsibility for none of them.

Instead, they showered themselves with praise in a press release issued this week, denying any major mishaps while the rest of the African athletics fraternity tried to shake off a rather forgettable experience and move on.

If you’re ever in Asaba, be sure to soak in the picturesque view surrounding the airport when you arrive and again when you leave.

But before you do anything, to prevent a nightmare visit, make sure your name is on every single list.