On Sunday morning, I went to church for all the wrong reasons: to charge my gadgets and to escape boredom. Was a bit early as the service hadn’t begun when I arrived. I waited with my sister until they started.
The praise and worship session hurt my ears as their sound system was too loud. They used several speakers in a small church built to accommodate maximum 50 persons.
Sunday school was cool. A very eloquent stately looking woman was in charge, she taught on eternal life. She held the congregation spellbound with her eloquence. I stared straight into her face all through teaching. After Sunday school, the rest of the service was a blur. Battled really hard to stay awake. There’s nothing as embarrassing as a church usher waking you up in the middle of a sermon.
After the service I was one of the first persons to dash out through the door with my fully charged gadgets- Mission accomplished.
The most annoying part of that Sunday was going home to find that electricity has been restored. Fam, I was so pissed. Why did I go to church when I would have chilled at home watching movies or surfing the web and catching up on everything I missed while in Camp. I’m weeks behind on Scandals, The Originals, Empire. I don’t even know who Nigeria’s latest minister for tourism is, and who’s been fighting who………. I could almost hear God laughing at me.
Getting strong network signal to surf the web that Sunday afternoon was another Wahala. The signal was good enough for BBM and Whatsapp but nothing else. I took that as a divine signal to treat myself to movies.
Woke up feeling super strong and cheerful on Monday Morning. I’m done complaining about Ikorodu. I know my time here is short so I’ll just enjoy it and find the fun in trailing Bush paths. By 5:00am I was already on my way to CMS .
“Fam, I’m going to reach the office before everybody”, I thought to myself while reaching out to pat my shoulders.
On the bus, the first topic was Abubakar Audu. I didn’t join the conversation but quietly followed it. Most people on the bus agreed that was “jazz”- not the music, the African insurance – involved in his death. 80percent openly said his death was a good thing, a warning to other men like him (whatever that means).
Few hours later, we were still in traffic. I’m not vexing, just silently cursing the traffic jam. Past 7am , I’m still in traffic.
“We”lll soon reach, lemme make up”. Did a successful facebeat in traffic- Welcome to Lagos Jules.
8am, the go slow tie wrapper o. By this time, everybody in the bus is already family. How do you spend so many hours together and not bond?. I overhear an elderly woman beside me dishing out marital advice to the young man beside her; una see wetin Lagos traffic dey cause?.
9:20am, I’m finally in Lekki Phase 1. Food before work fam, lemme not come and die. I buy Mama Put from a supermarket and grab some chocolates. If the food no sweet, I go use the chocolate hold belle.
Finally got to the office by 9:32. Of course, everybody made it before me. I am LASTMA. They should enjoy their glory days o because once I move to the Island na me go dey open door even before cleaner.
Before I forget, I finally got a hug. One of the guys summoned morale and hugged me, while the other cheered on. Who made him cheerleader?
They were however too shy to share my breakfast not inviting them again. I don’t believe in observing unnecessary protocol. If i know you’ll always say ‘thank you’, I’ll ignore you next time, eat alone and pretend you’re not in the room.
There are plenty mad people in this Lagos, dressed as normal human beings. Jejely walking on by own when I encountered a mad man. Was rushing from the office to Ajah to meet a house agent , just on the footbridge in front of Lekki Phase 1, someone bumped into me from behind. I turned to check who it was and to make sure I wasn’t missing any body part. It was a well-dressed man, he was wearing a Gray suit –not jacket- I know the difference. His shirt was really neat and nice.
“No apology?”, those were his first words and I instantly knew he was mad. “You owe me no apology right”, he said and kept walking. I noticed he was shaking his head and constantly talking to himself while he walked away.
How do you guys put up with Lagos landlords? How can someone not do renovation or basic repair job on his house when an old tenant moves out before trying to rent it to someone knew?. Why do Lagos people put up with that.?. Well, as for me I have decided that if it needs repairs I’m not renting it. Can’t be fixing new toilet bowl and replacing broken tiles after paying mad money for rent – I no come Lagos to count bridge.
Saw four houses in Ajah, liked none of them. The search continues.
Someone said there’s a place at Oniru, selfcon for N300k. I’ll go see the place after that I’ll meet the landlord and do the “please epp me, I am a corfer”.
I love Lagos at night. The lights, the stillness of the waters and the recklessness of road users. I also love the peppery plantain chips I always buy on the road. I love eavesdropping on people’s conversations on the bus; I know what you’re thinking – tatafo.
Last night, I boarded a bus with really high seats. It reminded me of my Uncle’s pickup truck -lol.
P.S: All these people that like forming oga inside, trying very hard to look all important and refusing to make space for the next person : you’re not too young to have a car. You better shift for me before I sit on your laps.
Source: Nigerian Bulletin
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