When Dr. Wale Okediran called me sometime in the year 2024, informing me that he had accepted the invitation to host the inaugural Congress of the World Organisation of Writers at the exotic Mamman Vatsa Writers Village in Mpape, Abuja, I was taken aback. However, his infectious enthusiasm soon won me over, and we eventually held the resounding success in April 2024. The second edition of the Congress was slated for September 2025 in Russia, and I soon found myself preparing for a visa interview. Thankfully, my brother Kabir Akanbi made arrangements through a protocol officer with the Court of Appeal to assist me with my visa application at the Russian embassy. The gentleman who took my documents at the Embassy, Mr. Hyacinth Achebe, was very courteous, and I was quite pleased with the handling by the embassy staff.
On the 18th of September, 2025, the day of my flight to Moscow, a member of the Association of Nigerian Authors and an alumnus of my university (Unilorin ), John-Freeman Ondoma (Freeman), was kind enough to drop me off at the Nnamdi Azikiwe International Airport. The Nigerian Immigration and customs officials were courteous, as were the officials of Ethiopian Airlines. However, one particular lady immigration officer behaved discourteously towards me, much to the embarrassment of one of her colleagues standing nearby. I virtually ignored her attitude, and soon my passport was stamped, and I moved on.
At the airport, I noticed a group of girls who caught the attention of the immigration officials. I guessed they were suspected of being trafficked, but I wouldn’t know how it eventually ended with them. I met a man who had paid for a flight but apparently wasn’t aware he needed a visa for the country he planned to travel to. He looked pitiable when it dawned on him that he had made the costly mistake, which was about to terminate his travelling plans.
Soon we were on board the Ethiopian Airline, and I sat beside a lady who confessed that it was her first flight ever. She prayed that I guide her from fixing the seatbelt to other areas, and I gladly obliged but with caution too 😃. The flight to Moscow was to have a stopover at Addis Ababa, and from there, some of us would proceed on different planes to our various destinations. Some were destined for Saudi Arabia, some to Dubai, and others, like me, to Moscow. On the flight to Moscow, I met others, including the Secretary-General of the Pan African Writers Association, Dr. Wale Okediran, who had arrived in Addis via another plane from Ghana. We were soon airborne for over seven hours. Revisiting the Bole International Airport once again stirred memories of my visit to Ethiopia about ten years ago, where I attended a conference organised by the Organisation for Social and Economic Research in East and Southern Africa at the United Nations Economic Commission for Africa in Addis Ababa, an experience that left a lasting impression.
When I arrived in Moscow, I contacted a cousin, Mustapha Muhammed Jamiu, who was living in Russia and working with the University of Rudn. He came over not quite two hours after I was checked into the Ibis Hotel. The room I was booked into had the same furnishing pattern as the one I once lodged in at Ikeja, Lagos, and another in the Netherlands years back. Mustapha brought me a jacket to complement my dressing in the cold weather. Though the city of Moscow was just about getting out of summer, it wasn’t too hot. Mustapha volunteered to take me to parts of the old city of Moscow and the new parts as well. The tour was quite revealing, and I shall write about my full impression of the country. He took me to the Red Square, which borders the Kremlin, the famous Basilica, and many more landmarks.
Mustapha had advised me to bring only native Nigerian clothing, and indeed, I am most grateful he did. My traditional wears were a deep attraction to many Moscovites and indeed other nationals that came for the conference. I was always begged to take pictures with them. Particularly, when I wore the well-embroidered agbada that I inherited from my late father, which I wore over my splendid ‘adire’ dyed clothing – I felt like a king with the attention it attracted. Mustapha also took me shopping and paid for all the purchases made. So grateful am I to him.
The conference began on the next day of our arrival at the World Trade Fair Centre, and it was a cultural gathering. There existed the Euro-Asian Writers’ Caucus, which had metamorphosed into the World Organisation of Writers, consequent upon the affiliation of the Pan-African Writers Association. This organisation has also become affiliated with a Euro-Asian Public Assembly dedicated to promoting peace and dialogue. The United Nations acknowledges the group’s efforts, and although purportedly non-governmental, it appears to enjoy the support of Russia and certain BRICS states.
The Congress proceeded with elegance, its first day marked by the presentation of awards to Dr. Wale Okediran, Secretary General of the Pan African Writers Association and a few other writers. The second day unfolded with insightful roundtable sessions, dedicated to examining the pivotal role of writers in promoting the literary craft and exploring its potential as a powerful tool for fostering peace and humanity.
Moscow, the majestic capital of Russia, is a city that seamlessly blends rich history, stunning architecture, and vibrant culture. As I wandered through the Kremlin’s imposing walls, I felt the weight of centuries of imperial grandeur. The colourful onion domes of St. Basil’s Cathedral seemed to dance in the sunlight, their intricate patterns and designs a testimony to the skill of Russian artisans. Driving across Moskva River offers breathtaking views of the city’s iconic landmarks, from the imposing Moscow State University to the elegant grandeur of the Bolshoi Theatre.
The night came alive with twinkling lights and the sound of laughter, as Muscovites and visitors alike gathered to enjoy the city’s renowned nightlife. From world-class museums like the Tretyakov Gallery and the Pushkin Museum of Fine Arts to the lively markets and shopping districts, Moscow is a city that has something for everyone. And, of course, no visit would be complete without sampling the city’s famous cuisine – from hearty beef stroganoff to delicate blini with caviar.
I made a lot of friends there, like Muhammed Dahouki, the Moroccan who also introduced me to his friends – two of whom became more familiar to me – one is the Putin decorated Russian ‘Ambassador’ young Ayuba and the amiable Semir who invited me to visit Morocco as his guest.
The evening before my departure, I joined them for a leisurely stroll through the enchanting streets of Moscow under the night sky. The young Moroccans suggested that I accompany them to a club, and I told them I wasn’t inclined. When they probed, asking if I didn’t go to the club to dance, I replied that when I was younger, I did attend dance parties, but no longer. However, some of them insisted that I still appeared youthful, and even requested to know my age. I initially demurred, but when Dahouki pressed the matter, I showed him my passport, and, like his friends, he was shocked by my age. I then told Dahouki that my first two children were older than him. We all laughed, but they all said I was fortunate that I didn’t look my age. I mentioned to them that the same scenario had played out a day earlier at the conference, with some other Africans I met at the world assembly who were equally astonished by my age. I also interacted with other writers, particularly those of us within the Pan African Writers Association. I also met two interesting guys, Tijani Ali from Ghana and Aliyu Bello Garba from Nigeria, who reside and work in the city.
On the 22nd of September, we proceeded back to Nigeria via the same route. Over a hundred and fifty countries participated in the assembly, and we all related humanely with each other. The experience was such that it left an indelible mark on my memory, and I shall cherish it forever.
I am back in Nigeria – I would like to extend my immense gratitude to Margarita Al-Mukhametova, President of the World Organisation of Writers, and, of course, to the Secretary General of the Pan African Writers Association, Dr. Olawale Okediran , for having made this trip a possibility and for affording me the opportunity to participate in the illuminating sessions of the Congress. I appreciate all others who have in one way or the other made the trip possible too!
Usman Oladipo Akanbi
