In July 2012, aviation experts and diplomats from across the African continent met in Abuja, Nigeria’s capital, to figure out how to fix Africa’s disastrous aviation safety record.

The numbers weren’t good. Flying in sub-Saharan Africa was more dangerous than anywhere else in the world. Air safety is measured by the “jet hull loss rate” – the number of times, per million flights, that an aircraft is damaged so badly in an accident that it must be written off – and African numbers were off the charts. In 2009, a particularly bad year, the jet hull loss rate was 14.83, compared to a global average of just 0.89.

Meanwhile, fears about flying on African airlines or through African airports were scaring off would-be passengers and hampering tourism and investment in Africa.

What could be done? In Abuja, delegates put their heads together and came up with a road map, which they called the Abuja Declaration for Aviation Safety. This included specific suggestions on how safety could be improved, such as by professionalising civil aviation authorities; requiring airlines to submit to internationally recognised safety audits, and obtaining international certification for all airports within three years.

The Abuja Declaration was adopted by African aviation ministers, and the African Union, turning the recommendations into continental policy. It has been a success. The 2015 statistics from the International Air Transport Association (the most recent available) show that sub-Saharan Africa’s jet hull loss rate is down to just 3.49 – still high by global standards, but a huge improvement in a relatively short space of time.

“African safety is moving in the right direction. In 2015 we saw improvements compared to the five-year accident rate for both jet and turboprop hull losses. Nevertheless, challenges to bringing Africa in line with global performance remain,” concluded Tony Tyler, IATA director general.

In this context, it is more than a little ironic that one of those challenges is the state of the runway at Abuja’s Nnamdi Azikiwe International Airport. As delegates flew home after that 2012 meeting, patting themselves on the back for a job well done, their planes were taking off and landing on a runway that was already more than a decade beyond its intended lifespan.

Only now, however, are Nigerian authorities taking action to replace it. But years of neglected maintenance mean that there is no easy fix.

Last week, Nigeria’s minister of state for aviation, Sirika Hadi, announced that the entire airport would be shut for six weeks to allow the runway to be redone. “Whether we shut this runway down or we don’t, the runway is on its way to shutting itself,” he said. “The entire structure of the runway has failed.”

For Africa’s most populous country, and a continental superpower, it’s a sorry state of affairs.

Hadi said flights into the capital would instead be diverted to Kaduna, a city more than 200 kilometres north. It’s not a great option. Logistically, the diversion would add a minimum of three hours to travellers’ journeys, but probably significantly more given the chaotic nature of Nigeria’s road transport infrastructure. And Kaduna has its own safety worries: the city, and the highway that links it to Abuja, have been the target of repeated terror attacks from Islamist militant group Boko Haram.

Some foreign airlines have already said that they would be unwilling to fly into Kaduna, so would suspend flights instead. South African Airways told Daily Maverick it was still considering its response, and would make an announcement later this week, but would continue to fly into Abuja until such time as the airport is officially closed.

“Should it have been necessary to close the runway and the airports immediately, the relevant authorities in Nigeria would have taken that decision. What they are talking about is that continued operations in that airport could pose a risk in the long run,” said spokesperson Tlali Tlali.

Whatever airlines choose to do, it is certain that the impact on Abuja itself will be severe. “We need this just as much as a bullet in the head. Abuja is so important… this could disrupt as much as 20% to 25% of business activity,” said Nigerian economist Bismarck Rewane, speaking to the BBC.

And that’s if the government sticks to its six-week timetable. It doesn’t have a great track record on that front, according to This Day columnist Reuben Abati. “A few years ago, the Federal Government of Nigeria shut down the Port Harcourt International Airport to carry out what they called repairs, or was it renovation? It was supposed to be an exercise for a few weeks, but it took more than an entire year. Flights were diverted to an airport in the city at great cost to travellers, but the so-called renovation took forever.

“The Port Harcourt airport became a grazing field for cows, at other times a vehicle-driving field, and for more than one year travel to Port Harcourt, one of Nigeria’s most strategic cities, was a nightmare. Each time the Nigerian government talks about fixing the airports, using the words ‘renovation’, ‘rehabilitation’ or ‘reform’, it is better to be cynical.” DM

Photo: Abuja Airport (Wikipedia)