Welcome to Lagos.
6:30 AM, at Ikeja bustop, another Monday to resume work, but first the putrid stench of stale urine hit my face as the wind blew by, my face suddenly going into a squeeze, as I tried covering my nose, I began to wonder what manner of idiot urinates indiscriminately till I remembered my uncle was one of them, he was caught peeing by the roadside in Lagos island, and then the ‘KAI’ boys began chasing him, my dear uncle was running while peeing, eventually they caught up with him. He had to part away with a little cash. But these days, I wonder if those ‘Kai’ boys still exist because almost every wall side around Lagos was littered with urine.
The pump price of fuel has been increased again, sometimes I wonder, how much suffering our leaders think we deserve before they realize that it’s time for them to let us breathe, from Ikeja bus stop to obalende was 300 Naira, now these danfo buses are screaming 500 Naira, the older man beside me, is grumbling cursing the president and the leaders, the young dude at the other side is clutching is bag tightly, he’s probably new, doesn’t want to be a victim of Lagos, adjacent to where myself and other people are standing, waiting for buses to transport us to work, some other young boys stand under the bridge, rolling leaves and smoking the leave-paper mixture without any rush, a middle-aged woman selling assorted brands of gins and herbal concoctions that seem to fix anything, I can see a younger lady sell rice just before the edge of the bridge, the smell of the stew hitting me right in the nose, my taste buds standing at attention, my mind begin to remind me of iya-toheeb’s rice and stew, I was in a salivary trance when the coarse voice of a conductor screamed ‘400 Obalende, CMS’ like a fraudulent superhero I found myself rushing into the bus, I got a seat, and I sighed a breath of relief, now time to check my notifications searched through my pockets and bag, my phone was gone.
Then as the bus zoomed off at high speed towards Maryland, I saw the older man who had stood beside me at the bus stop, putting something inside the bag of the young dude who also flanked me, both of them laughing. Then it dawned on me that I was the bait.
The End.
Voke and I took our time to write a few poems narrating different tales about what ‘Lagos’ meant to us, take your time and download it below and read. Thank you ❤️
Note: Follow the link to download the chapbook we wrote about Lagos for free: https://www.dropbox.com/s/4if7n94ueqorrlu/Welcome%20to%20Lagos.pdf?dl=0
I'm excited to read more!