I had a ‘long’ flight rather than a long ‘halt’ while coming here. My halt at the Dubai airport was rather dragged as the wi-fi connection refused to cooperate, calling home was not in favour of my small-sized wallet and the forex exchange kiosks ignored my pitiable condition altogether.
In the never-ending seven hours halt at the airport, I did experience a change in my mood with passing batches of passengers, bound to different destinations. Almost all kept to themselves but Africans. When the influx of passengers to board the Murtala Muhammed International Airport, Lagos, the bound flight started, the atmosphere around, changed its texture. They brought music, loud laughs, vibrant colours and a lot of warmth along with themselves. That was my first experience with them!
When I first broke the news that I was to travel to Nigeria, I was fed in with all sorts of stories. I was even warned to stay indoors for the fear of being eaten up, taking me to be a chicken, given my small body frame. Yes, they do walk up to me with their huge frames but rather to say “you are welcome!” I am trying to imbibe that attribute of theirs.
The first question being asked is “Which part of the world are you from?” On my response the next in line is “Mumbai or Delhi?” Now, this has become the norm of the day and I blurt my responses out even when not questioned at all. They call me “white” and I wonder should that make me happy or upset me? Due to my objection, some around have started calling me “yellow.”
Read also: Allure on West Coast
The worst part of Lagos is the poor condition of electricity or is the traffic-jams or the arm-robbers or the street vendors, who sell practically everything; sausages, mobile phones, furniture, crazy football accessories and babies, all on the traffic-signals. Okay! I admit babies were an exaggeration.
Lagosians for hours, without taking a breath, can talk about football, religion, politics and corruption. They believe they can run the administration better than any government. I have even been brainwashed to believe that the South-South, the oil-rich zone, feeds the entire nation and it is the oil-money which Nigerians are “chopping.”
For one of my recent projects, I travelled to Abeokuta, the capital of Ogun State. My first impression of the place was that the “sense of aesthetics” is better than that of Lagos State. The capital city is a lot greener compared to Lagos.
Later, I learnt that Olufunso Amosun, the first lady of the State, has started an environmental campaign project named “Ogun Goes Green” and it is this awareness programme which keeps the state green.
On my way back, I visited one of the most acclaimed tourist destinations of West Africa, the Olumo Rock in Abeokuta, and beautiful it is! Easy as it may sound but mounting the man-made stairs in the rock, leaves one gasping for breath.
While climbing up the staircase, as the elevator was not working, my body though panting, my mind was wondering what if God calls it a day and the huge rock I was mounting on trips and falls? My silent-kid-guide-cum-photographer, who could not speak and hear, performed some terrific stunts; like crossing the safety line on the rock and like disappearing in one direction and reappearing from other.
To summarise, my experience of Nigeria, so far, has been as disorganised as the places I have been to. All I could say is, it is truly an adventurous country and one need not go to special places or shell out great sums to experience the thrill; it runs on the streets of Nigeria.
