I am usually the first person not to believe such a horrendous experience could be possible, but I can find no reason to think the author has any kind of agenda.

The Line of No Return

There is a steady hum of talking around the room, but it dies down when a white woman comes in, with short hair that sticks up on her head like brush bristles. She is the director of the visa section, the philosophy professor tells me. She holds a loudspeaker to her mouth: "Raise your hands if you are here to renew a student or a work visa! Raise your hands high! I can't see! High!"

Her tone makes me feel like I am in primary school again.

"Keep the hands up! O.K., down!" She is wearing a multicolored caftan with jagged edges - the sort of thing a foreigner will wear to look African but an African will never wear. A child has walked up to her and is holding onto the caftan, looking up at her and smiling. He wants to play.

"Get this kid off me! Get this kid off me!" she says. She gestures wildly and for a moment I am afraid she will hit the child with the loudspeaker. The little boy is laughing now; he thinks it's some sort of game. There is the rumble of laughter through the room. "Oh children," someone says.

But the woman is not amused. "Who has this child?" She shakes her caftan as if to shake the child off until his mother goes and picks him up. "He just likes you," she tells the woman. The woman glares at us. "You think it's funny? O.K., I won't tell you what I wanted to tell you about the interview process. Go ahead and figure it out for yourselves."

I will be sending our consulate in Nigeria an e-mail asking for a response to be sent to the NY Times for publication. Their e-mail is:

lagoscons2@state.gov

This is what I sent to them:

To Whom It May Concern,

You may be aware of the story by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, a Nigerian women who wrote of her unnerving experiences at our embassy in Lagos in the New York Times on Monday, November 29. It is disturbing to think that anyone who wants to visit our country has to suffer the indignities as reported in the column, especially children.

I realize that you may only be able to control the atmosphere inside your building and therefore don't blame you for much of what Ms. Adichie had to go through, but the total lack of respect as reportedly shown by one of your employees is sickening.

"Get this kid off me! Get this kid off me!" she says. She gestures wildly and for a moment I am afraid she will hit the child with the loudspeaker. The little boy is laughing now; he thinks it's some sort of game. There is the rumble of laughter through the room. "Oh children," someone says.
But the woman is not amused. "Who has this child?" She shakes her caftan as if to shake the child off until his mother goes and picks him up. "He just likes you," she tells the woman. The woman glares at us. "You think it's funny? O.K., I won't tell you what I wanted to tell you about the interview process. Go ahead and figure it out for yourselves."

I hope you have the opportunity to respond to this report in the NY Times or elsewhere.

As a witness to the 9/11 attacks in New York, I do appreciate the difficulties that you face in trying to make sure that people who want to do us harm don't get into the U.S. I am hopeful that the experience of Ms. Adichie does not reflect common practice.