A typical Sunday in Kaduna

I woke around ten and boiled some water for my shower. We have a water heater in our bathroom, but it’s very temperamental and I rarely give it the time of day. Showering in our house means filling a bucket from the tap, adding a pan of hot water from the stove to take the edge off, and then kneeling in the bath, scooping bowlfuls of water from the bucket over yourself; sounds less than comfortable, but actually it’s an art I’ve mastered and quite enjoy now (particularly when water’s scarce and you can get competitive about how little you can shower with!).

After bathing, I swept our tiled floors – the Harmattan dust leaves a thin film daily. NEPA returned around 11, so I plugged everything in that needed charging, made myself a cup of tea and sat on the sofa reading last week’s treasured Saturday Guardian, brought back with us from the UK. Simon emerged from his lie-in and we made eggy bread and coffee and breakfasted to the sound of Radio 4 on iPlayer: bliss.

The children from next door paid us a visit to play with the toys we brought back from the UK – colouring books and cracker presents. An hour or so passed, playing with the children, showing them how certain toys worked and letting them try on Simon’s many hats (including our motorbike helmets!); exhausting, actually, and quite revealing about my lack of capacity for play (I’m more like Monica Geller every day: I, too, “can be fun at organised, indoor projects”).

At around 3, inspired by all the talk of New Year’s resolutions and regimes in the paper and radio, we walked down to the football stadium (about 15 mins from our house) and went for a run. The dust and the wind nearly killed us! We barely made it once round before we were struggling for breath and had to stop; very annoying that the temperature at the moment is perfect for running, but the air quality is deathly! Limping home, we picked up some shopping en route: peppermint tea bags and vegetable oil from ‘Stop ‘n’ Shop’ (the Lebanase supermarket at the end of Kigo Road – with western products and western prices); vegetables from the man who’s suddenly appeared with a wooden stall at the junction; and some dried beans, sugar and matches from one of the many little shed-shops.

When we got home, the NEPA and water were still going strong, so I took the opportunity to clean the bathroom (without electricity, the tiny window gives very little light, so it’s easy to bathe it filth for days without knowing it if NEPA doesn’t coincide with showering!) and finished washing the towels, which we’d left soaking in a bucket of boiling hot water. I’d forgotten how hard hand-washing is on your back: bending over the bath, rinsing and wringing it out is exhausting (and hopefully a half decent workout!).

In the evening we cooked for a couple of other British volunteers and our neighbour, Tony. Halfway through, with impeccable timing, our gas bottle ran out, but luckily Tony offered to lend us his to cook the rest of the dinner: another example of problems caused by lack of infrastructure easily overcome by community spirit. An hour or so later, we enjoyed bean burgers, roast potatoes, boiled veg and gravy (Bisto all the way from home!), followed by slices of watermelon and washed down with red wine kindly provided by our guests.