The bubble and the outsiders

The contrast between the privileged and those who are not, continues to fascinate and even horrify me. I often wonder whether the indices in these two separate domains are even aware of each other.

For the privileged, my take is that they are in a bubble – insulated from the grinding and brutalising realities of day to day existence in Nigeria. Take a look at a life-style in which the rich live it up in swanky places like Ikoyi and Victoria Island. The children are ferried to schools in exotic cars – in such learning centres like the British International School or its American equivalent.

And for relaxation in the evening, the watering holes are places like Ikoyi Club, the Boat Club and possibly the Metropolitan Club.

Come summer time, the family jets off to places like Miami, Madrid, or somewhere in Mauritius. I have even heard a boast from an acquaintance of mine that for months, he could live on the Island without ever venturing forth to the Mainland.

Such is the life of the man/woman in the bubble. It is, as said above, far removed from the life of the ordinary man or woman in Nigeria. Now and then, however, as a social being in the midst of life in Nigeria; I often try to imagine what life could be like on the other side. Now and then, I get a glimpse into what passes for life on the other side i.e, the ungainly platform.

For instance, I read very recently about pensioners who receive on a monthly basis, pensions in the order of two thousand naira or at best, ten thousand naira. Such pensioners are complaining and rather bitterly too, that they are having to contend with the hard grind of life in the light of these miserly sums.

You often wonder about how such people are able to survive. Invariably, and at the risk of sounding stark – many of these people will just die off. No wonder, life expectancy in these parts is regarded as very low. But only for some people. Those in the bubble will not have to contend with this kind of life – threatening existence. Incidentally, one highly privileged man came forth one day to tell journalists that he earns five thousand a month as pension.

But he quickly added that he was in the bubble since his son happens to be the governor of a state. This kind of exceptionalism simply goes to prove the contention, that, if you lack that kind of privilege or support, then you may well begin to prepare and meet your maker, albeit, prematurely.

The interesting thing here is that such is the insularity which passes for life here that for many of those in the bubble, bliss is the name of the game. Such bliss can usually be experienced when you are sitting in the back seat of an air-conditioned Prado car. Courtesy of the moving traffic, you are whipped around the city by that chauffeur of yours whose salary is in the region of say sixty thousand naira per month.

How do you expect him to get by on this sum, you sometimes wonder. But then, that is even if you think along that line at all. Such I dare say, is the chloroforming effect of insularity. But even then, the contradictions of an urban crush, which typifies Lagos can always catch up with you in your comfortable ride. You are caught in the traffic now and then.

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And to use a decidedly Nigerian phrase, you are in the go-slow. So slow that you are on the same spot. Since you are transfixed, you want to look around. There is the bus stop on the ever busy Ikorodu Road, close to your car. Then you see the lines of men and women, seeking to enter the BRT Bus. For a moment, you want to lower the glass so that you can see properly. Instinct tells you not to, for what you can see are the anguished faces of what one sensitive writer has called: the bus-stop man.

Yes, the bus-stop man is always there with us. For him, the car is a rarity and not part of his daily existence. You look harder at the bus, after all, you are at the moment immobile. The bus is packed full – some sitting and standing. Then you remember those words of Fela – 99 standing, 49 sitting, suffering and smiling. But then, even a Fela got it wrong here. For indeed, there might be suffering, but in reality no one is smiling.

And then, talking of contradictions, bubbles by their nature are prone to getting burst. This incidentally is what is afoot at the moment if care is not taken. I am referring here to the ongoing ASUU strike and the class dimensions of this particular saga.

Apparently, many of the children of those in the bubble are not in our public universities. Rather, they can be found in the private universities. And in any case, many of them have been spirited abroad for their own education. Thus, many of those students in our public universities are those whose parents cannot afford the private equivalents and who obviously cannot study abroad.

As things stand, the umbrella student body NANS is spitting fire. That, as long as the strike lasts, the children of those outside the bubble are out of the classrooms. And as such, the government should brace up and attend to the striking lecturers. That major roads will be blocked and as such dear Mr and Mrs Privilege your bubble is about to be invaded.

Such indeed is the contradiction in our society that on this and other issues, those in the bubble should be careful, lest they be over-run by those outside it. The situation is that grim. And on that note, dear reader, do not regard me as an alarmist. It does not take much to appreciate here that despite the huge gains which accrue to the few in the bubble; there is still a lot of pain for the many in the land – who obviously are outside the bubble.