Swaggy Mo’s Deportation: What It Says About The Increased Foreign Interest In Detty December  

A series of videos posted on Instagram two days ago by Gambian-Senegalese model and content creator, Mohamet “Swaggy Mo” Mbaye, based in the United States, has stirred feverish conversation on social media, prompting pertinent questions about Nigerian immigration personnel and the country’s civil service writ large. “I don’t think I will ever step foot in Nigeria again for the rest of my life if I can avoid it. I just got deported from Nigeria and it was the most dehumanizing, humiliating experience ever in my life,” Mbaye intones in the first video. Throughout the video, Mbaye, who wears a cream shirt and beige pants, emphasizes that his discontent stems mostly from how he was treated rather than the supposed deportation itself. 

Before launching into his actual grievances, he spends a little over a minute rhapsodizing about his love for Nigeria. “If you know me, you know my love for Nigerians really goes deep,” he says before invoking several previous videos in which he waxes lyrical about Nigeria and Nigerians, including one where he says, “Listen, I’m obsessed with Nigerians to like an unhealthy level.” 

The actual story? A Nigerian friend invited Mbaye to the country for his wedding and promised to cover his ticket and travel documents. “So, he was basically taking care of everything,” Mbaye says. As he tells it, upon accepting the offer from his friend, he excitedly began plans to contribute to orphanages within the country, which he says is a tradition he observes when he visits African countries. “So I spent thousands and thousands of dollars of my own money, and was just already making connections with people on the ground, trying to figure out how to get the fundraiser going.” 

Before boarding his flight to Nigeria, presumably from the US, where he resides, immigration officials had, as per standard protocol, asked for his visa. To which he replied, saying: “The person who invited me took care of it.” He applied for a visa and got confirmation that the application was submitted. He was howeve,r required to make an application for a Nigerian visa at the airport. “So I had to make an application at the airport, and I got confirmation that the application was submitted, so I thought that once I get to Nigeria, I would get the confirmation, or that at least it would be something I can figure out there, but that wasn’t the case,” he says. 

Upon arrival at the Murtala Mohammed International Airport in Nigeria, he was informed that his visa still hadn’t been approved and that the system for checking was down. He was then taken to the office of an immigration officer who scarcely paid him any mind and left him alone in the office, hungry and thirsty, when his shift was over. In his telling, many of the officials he interacted with were dismissive, oftentimes offering no replies to his questions. After hours of being stranded, a “senior official” arrived at the scene and informed Mbaye that “we’re sending you back.” By the time they arrived at the delta gate, the last available flight had departed and the next flight was 24 hours away. The solution proffered by the officials on the ground was that he would wait till the next available flight in their office. Mbaye also alleges witnessing multiple incidents of corruption, even as many of the airport officials he encountered seemed to taunt his beleaguered situation. He alleges seeing some of the people on his flight hand over money to plainclothes immigration officials, who would then escort them without scanning their passports.

The groundswell of debates and conversations that have sprung up in the wake of Mbaye’s videos underscores the complexity of the matter. Anyone who has lived in Nigeria is by now all too familiar with our deeply dysfunctional public service system. Earlier this year we decried and protested the injustice of the Joint Admissions and Matriculation Board, which foisted ridiculously wrong scores on unsuspecting students. The official account for JAMB on X spent days denying the widespread reports of glitches from affected students and only capitulated after mounting pressure from the public. Scarcely a month passed before another crisis rocked Nigeria’s educational system, this time with WAEC examinations across the country. Students in centers around the country, who had been scheduled to write their exams in the morning, were delayed until the evening. Under the pall of darkness, students, huddled around faint candles mounted on dingy wooden tables, wrote their exams in total pandemonium. 

To be Nigerian is to have been steeped in a level of dysfunction that beats the imagination. Whether it’s the convoluted process that comes with registering for the National Youth Service Corps, the compulsory year-long program into which fresh graduates are funneled, or navigating the corrupt policemen who patrol our roads, demanding bribes and threatening brutality. Nigerian airports are, in a sense, the perfect example of the dysfunction that pervades virtually every aspect of Nigerian life. Here, defective systems and processes are exacerbated by institutionalized corruption and a general air of nonchalance.

The subject of Nigeria’s dysfunctional society has been tirelessly interrogated. What, however, often goes under the radar is how foreigners often come into the country criticizing its dysfunctional practices and processes, while trying to exploit the same system. Take Mbaye’s anecdote. He dutifully and correctly calls out the alleged incidents of corruption he noticed, the system malfunctions, and the poor treatment he received from airport staff. Curiously, he does not attempt to examine himself for possible blame and casts himself as the quintessential victim. 

The facts, however, are that his mawkish mention of his intention to donate to orphanages, as well as his over-the-top praise for Nigerians, belie the reality that he attempted to enter Nigeria without a valid visa, an offense that would warrant steeper penalties in other countries. In his video, he mentions applying for a visa just before his flight and thinking “there would be something I can figure out when I get there,” revealing his total lack of regard for due process. He also blames system downtime for his situation, when the Nigerian eVisa application portal clearly states that eVisas take between 2-3 days to process. Having applied just before his flight, there’s no sensible reason—other than his confidence in an out-of-the-books workaround—why he would expect his visa to be approved in time.

As Detty December ramps up in intensity, and foreigners and diasporans from around the world troop into Nigeria, the conversation of how foreigners or visitors interact with Nigeria’s complicated society takes on increased urgency. Last year, as the festive season wound down, we were treated to censorious videos by visitors complaining about unsavory experiences in the country. At the same time, other visitors bragged ecstatically about exploiting the Nigerian system, most notably by initiating fraudulent chargebacks on transactions completed during their stay in the country. Mbaye’s putative deportation—in reality he was simply denied entry—is the latest incarnation of an age-old trend: foreigners or visitors criticizing the same systems they wish to exploit. As well-meaning Nigerians, we must continue to call out Nigeria’s dysfunctional institutions and advocate for better leadership. Likewise, the culture of making exceptions for visitors must be strongly discouraged. If Mbaye had pulled off a similar stunt in some other countries without a valid visa he’d be facing steeper consequences. As such, there’s no reason to coddle a man who knowingly attempted to enter the country without a visa.