�y��vlog

The sprawling combination of water park, motor park and general bacchanal was the brainchild of Gene Mulvihill, a disgraced former penny-stock pusher who counted the cash as his park became a rule-free stew of dangerous rides, teen guests, teen employees, raging hormones, ’80s-style machismo and booze.

They had been walking for a while now, since they got off the lorry at the motor park, and the afternoon sun burned the back of his neck.

“I saw a whole family, a father and mother and three children, lying on the road to the motor park. Just lying there.”

“Mama and Amala are just leaving. I’m taking them to the motor park,” he said.

In February 2009, I was at a motor park in Maraba, a satellite of the Nigerian capital Abuja, looking for motorcyclists wearing dried vegetables on their heads.