With Love From Lagos

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After living in 3 countries and visiting several others in over two decades, I solemnly declare that Nigerians are potentially the most insane primates on God’s grey earth. (***Mad cows included in research).

I was not a fan of the foolery that was Big Brother Allstars (Africa) 2010, but I found myself somehow distracted into watching the South Africa located finale on telly. Seeing Uti, the Nigerian winner, dancing ‘Alanta’ as he hip-hopped his way out of the house only to find the (Nigerian) presenter joining him mid-stage in the notorious finger-wiggling, leg jiggling dance caused me pause. How does the territorial jurisdiction that is Nigeria manage to exist without imploding on itself with so many larger than life personalities crammed into the admittedly small space that is my nation state?!? Amazing. Scientists better leave stem cells and get to researching questions that truly matter! I wouldn’t blame a foreigner for wondering; “What is the point of being African if you’re not Nigerian?”

The soliloquy above was a discussion I had with the villagers and elves at the town hall of the Village D’Incroyables, (population:1), located in the deeper recesses of my medulla in the wee hours of the morning. The vitality of the Nigerian forms a substantial portion of my daily intellectual ponderings at the dawn of each new morning (yes, really). I think Nigeria, with its teeming humanity, concentrated chaos and intensified mayhem is VH1’s dream reality show. Lagos in particular with its unique mesh of eccentrics, posers, loonies, deluded, cool cats, gold-digging hustlers and comics amongst others, would be the perfect setting. The show would be a brutally honest expose on life. (Emphasis on ‘brutally’). I can already see it now! It would be titled ‘TIN’; a salute to that oft given answer to every frustrated question on why things don’t work in Nigeria ; “…This. Is. Nigeria!!” (T.I.N). And a subtle dig at many Nigerians' mis-pronounciations of words like the the ‘TH’ in THing. Birds 2. Stone 1.


The show would make for great reality TV simply because there would be no need for the fake acting and simulated scripts propagated by pretend ‘reality’ shows. Yes Kardashians, shots fired at you. The drama will not need to be created, the life of the average Nigerian has some modicum of drama attached to it automatically. It’s the default position in a country where basic amenities are considered luxury provisions. It's no wonder that Nigerians as individuals are one-man riot bands! In some ways Nigeria is Life….Exaggerated. Nigerians are a breathing exaggeration of every action; we laugh loud and hard, we wave our hands and whip our weaves in self expression, we cry long and heavy. It seems like a generalization but watch a group of young Nigerians interact and you’ll see what I mean.

Maybe this is why Nigeria has the awesome power to regularize so many things; things that would formerly seem totally out of place to me, somehow aren't anymore after a few months of living here. I know that lawns are made to be walked (sorry, MARCHED) on and queuing is only for the incredibly foolish, shouting over and bullying your way o the front is always advised. I also know now, of course, that caucasian foreigners are ALWAYS expatriates, NEVER immigrants...jobless or otherwise. Somehow you get used to never actually seeing women who have full front hair, thanks to the abrasive yet exotic-looking effect of tight yet terribly tidy braids. And normal is attending events where you are surrounded by a veritable sea of women with 100% authentic hair.… only every strand a home-grown production from the skull of one Sheeva Patel in Bombay or a Maria santa Monica in Peru. (I will say this trend is worrying for even me; the official face of Women Addicted to Weaves (WAW)). How about the Grief-Free Celebration-Only Zones that funerals in Nigeria are? Add to this mix, tales of daylight armed robbery attacks, head hunters (literally) for voodoo sacrifices, or churches where pastors claim to be able to give women children *pause and medititate on the swindle*. It’s an extraordinary place, this Nigeria is.

What I find fascinating is that in the consistent frenzy of activity and the concentrated mass of humanity, there is a warmth present here that is distinctly African and incomparable to any other place in the world. The disadvantage of many busy cities is the isolation that capitalism, industrialisation and technology bring. Yet somehow Nigerian cities, like Lagos, have somehow managed to remain fast-paced and exciting yet the real citizen of Lagos state (not the fronting newly repatriated 'foreign' Nigerian), is friendly, boisterous and funny. And probably looking for the fastest way to divest you of your best bits. Lol. …story for another day.




I like the spirit in this country. A special brand of welcoming, warm friendliness that manages to straddle that fine line between cool and crazy. Its like visiting that kooky, jolly aunty in the village that always hugs you too tightly and smells of mothballs; she’s a little too loud, often obnoxious but never ever boring.


Nigeria, and Lagos in particular, has worked its magic on me. After almost a month of living like a working-class Island Girl (whooop for finishing my internship in Lagos!), I find Lagos quite enchanting (in a non-cinderella-storyesque way). As I stare from my vantage point at the back of the car in traffic and watch others who, like me, are hurriedly applying a Mac counter full of war paint to camouflage baggy eyes and distract from birdnest hair as we all prepare to face another day in the jungle that is Lagos, Im surprised to feel that in the midst of the madness, I can see myself settling here.

I can almost smell the mothballs.