The Lagos Experience Pt. 1 can be found here.
It was the best of times, it was the hottest of times. It was the season of festivities, it was a season of rest. It was my first time in Lagos.
Having survived my flight from Abuja to Lagos and then, further survived the torturous Lagos heat and humidity, it was time to go home.
The date was 26th of December and at 10pm, Lagos was alive and bursting with Christmas colours. Since the day before had been the birth of Jesus, Lagosians were not yet ready to let the birth of our Lord and Saviour end in peace.
Typical of owambe nation, even Jesus could not escape these people and their need to party hard. This town loves enjoyment! Everywhere I turned, Christmas blings wanted to blind me. Shet!
I looked around like a lost puppy and thought to myself that these guys need only the slightest excuse to party. Tell a Lagosians you lost your bunch keys and he will find a way to throw a party just to announce your lost keys.
I was tired to my bones and since Ikeja Airport despite being an international airport did not disappoint to deliver mediocrity, I found a concrete slab just in front of the entrance to baggage control (or whatever it is called) and dropped my tired butt on the warm slab.
I have heard stories of visitors blinking only to discover that their luggage was gone in this town so I hugged my precious bag to my chest with one hand and held on to my travel bag with the other hand. I was not going to experience Lagos with just the clothes on my body.
Smiles in “You cannot snatch my bag”
A Dance with Traffic
Due to infamous Lagos traffic, my friend’s father was unable to get to the airport in good time and so, we had to take the next best alternative: Bolt.
Fine.
This was not a problem except for the fact that mentally I was already naked because of the heat. My head was smoking. I turned to my friend and said, “The weather feels like it is about to rain.”
Every five minutes, I’d turn and say, “It wants to rain.” I would later find out that nobody bothers to explain stuff to strangers in Lagos. One day or day one, you will learn.
Soon, Oga Bolt arrived and before we hopped in, he negotiated his trip offline (Bolt app in the mud) and we headed for Ajah. The a.c was a welcome development.
I gathered myself to one corner of the vehicle and proceeded to tell the people that loved me that I was still alive. My village people did not succeed.
The plane had landed safely thanks to the blood of Jesus; and trust me, I had drank enough of it in communion before I handed my life to the pilot. Spiritual intelligence fam!
Me 1-0 Lagos.
How I arrived: I am not built for stress
Because I was mostly on my phone, I did not get to see most of the city. I had a head-splitting headache, the smell of exhaust fumes had mixed with the undigested food in my stomach to deliver the perfect recipe of constipation.
The Agbero
“Madam we don reach.”
We were at some random road opposite Harvesters International Church, Lekki. There, we would wait for my friend’s father to pick us and continue approach.
Before the Bolt driver dropped us off he gave a sound warning, “This place is not safe sha, you pipo should try and leave here early.”
You should have seen my eyes when he said that. That bloody headache disappeared as the age old flight or fight instinct kicked in. I framctically scanned my surroundings and seeing that we were alone, I relaxed.
But not for too long. Trouble was right ahead and gingerly approaching us.
I Go Collect Your Phone
It is said that your Lagos Experience is not complete until you encounter an Agbero or jump down from a Danfo.
I was about to encounter the first requirement to being a proper Lagosians. At first, he looked harmless. He approached us carrying a bag of sachet water and asked us to buy.
I started suspecting foul play when I realized there was a bottle of water at my feet. Which normal human will ask you to buy sachet water when he is clearly seeing a bottle of water in your “very before?”!
We ignored him the way your crush leaves you on read.
Next thing I heard was, “Is it because I’ve not collected your phones? I said you people should give me money, you’re stingy. You dey mad?
“I go collect your phone. I go sellam. Una no fit do anything. Abeg give me money jare”
Me 👇
Just when I thought we were safe, I had my friend say, “Ehn come and collect the phone nau.”
“Ahhh!!! Aunty!” I shouted. “See, I’m the only daughter of my mother. Please! Please and please, avoid stories that touch.”
She hissed.
Me 👇
Just when I wanted to surrender my life for the 1000th time, my friend’s father arrived. I dived into the car then…I looked at the Agbero like:
My Lagos Experience was half-complete. Up next, is how I went to “Bamba” with “Mammy Water” because did you really go to Lagos if you didn’t drink sea water drop cup?
PS: I have a new video up on my YouTube. Check it out here
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