Lagos Nigeria, one of the fastest growing and most populated cities in Africa and the world with a population of around 16–20 million people (estimates suggests). A city filled with bright yellow buses, eateries, busy people and of course music at every corner. There’s almost no escape from music in Lagos, it’s like the fuel which keeps the city alive. After over a decade and a half I was fortunate enough to return, having not visited since my early teenage years but this time as an adult and more importantly solo.

Lift Off

My return to Lagos was impromptu, even by my standards. Although, it fails to hold the record for my most spontaneous trip as that record is held by my first visit to Morocco in 2018. I’m talking waking up from a Saturday afternoon nap, feeling bored, finding a cheap flight, researching into things to do in the city, then finding myself in Marrakech airport the next Tuesday… yeah that quick.

Wanderluster tendencies? I’d say so. However, this year I had planned to only do short trips in Europe and limit them to one or two max. Normally, I prefer to plan my trips somewhat in advance or at least have a rough idea of where I want to go for the year, but this trip just sort of happened.

Like an alignment if one can call it that. At the same time one of my friends was on his own journey back to his country Sao Tome in West Africa, so it definitely felt quite special. My trip was booked for 2 weeks and there were several key motivations for me going:

1. My Uncle had already planned to visit the country around that time.
2. My Grandma has been asking me to visit her for ages.
3. I wanted to reconnect with some friends.
4. I was keen on finding out what the city is like as an adult.

I managed to find a relatively decent priced flight with the new and not so new airline called Air Peace. The carrier boasts direct journeys from LGW— LOS (London Gatwick to Lagos). The flight itself was a fairly short one. Around 6 hours to exact and the plane itself was most likely an old Emirates one. The dead giveaways were Arabic signs scattered across the aircraft and the bins which had a smoking symbol in the toilet. Yeah they used to allow smoking on planes, yuck!

Landing in Lagos, I was hit with that infamous lagos scent. If you’ve ever been to Nigeria you’ll know exactly what I’m talking about. It’s a mix of heat, slight petrol fumes and muskiness… and damn did I miss that concoction.

My plan for my return was simple. This trip was solely about enjoyment. Shortly after landing I was met by my Uncle and extended family from my mother’s side who came to rescue me from the airport hustle and bustle. Although the majority of my family are born and raised in London I still had my mums cousins who lived in Lagos.

But before I was able to meet them I had to get past the Nigerian immigration officers and that was a funny encounter. Unlike other passengers who all seemed to have a Nigerian passport, I arrived with an e-visa. Upon reaching the front of the line, I was requested to go to the other side to fill out forms and get a permit on arrival. The officers and I had a good chat about Jamaica because of my rather long locs. They kept calling me “Rasta” and were singing lyrics of the Bob Marley songs they knew. Then suddenly the question was posed to me, the one I have heard a million times over.

“Hey, where are you from?”

My face widened. Whenever people ask me this question I always respond exactly the same. “Do you want to take a guess?”

One of them responded “Jamaica!” Then the other guy sitting behind a rather old computer said:

“You no fit see hin name, na Jamaican name to you be dat?”

Indeed the man was correct, but he only knew this because he had my passport in his hand. Without it, I’m confident he’d assume I was Caribbean too. I get it literally all the time. For some strange reason the country most people assume I’m from is St Lucia. A tiny island in between St Vincent and Martinique.

Don’t ask me why they always guess that place in particular. It could be because of my locs, but true say I’ve had them for six years and even prior to my loc journey , I would get guesses from various islands but hardly ever where I’m actually from. Others say I give off a Caribbean vibe. I kinda believe that.

Here was my interaction

 

Settling In

Getting used to Lagos was a complete shift. Firstly, getting used to the pace and busyness of the city was nothing like I had encountered in London. It was like the people were moving at supersonic speed. From the moment you step out your house you’re completely surrounded by people. People walking on streets, people selling stuff on streets, people sleeping on streets. If you’re not a people person I’m not sure how’d you survive in Lagos because you’re surrounded by them. Fortunately for me, I like and love people (at least some).

Secondly, was the traffic. Not really surprising since the city has so many occupants. However, nothing had prepared me for the this kind of traffic. My first encounter was on the way to the hotel when I first landed but that was nothing compared to the next day when I ventured to the island to visit the Nike Gallery (pronounced Nee-k).

Nike gallery was an amazing experience. It’s this massive multi-floor building with art works from mainly Nigerian/ African artists. And I was mind blown by the creative talent I was seeing. Paintings and sculptures of famous city squares, parties, traditional dances and religions, you name it and the gallery had it.

Here are some images I captured but the camera can never do it justice, you just have to see it for yourself.

 

 

Lagos geographically is divided into two parts. There’s the mainland which holds the majority of people. Then the island which can only be reached by crossing one of the few bridges that connects the two areas. My hotel was on the mainland and the gallery was on the island, mistake number one. If you’re on the island, you got to stay on the island, at least till the traffic dies down around ten-ish. Mistake number two, was me thinking leaving the island around 5:30PM to head back to the mainland was anything remotely good of an idea. Surly it couldn’t be that bad. Boy oh boy was I wrong.

A journey which normally takes 35 minutes took us around 1 hr:30 minutes. Now bare in mind this isn’t just regular stuck in traffic traffic, this was Lagos traffic baby! Picture every car which passes you by horning, industrial trucks beeping, buses, the whole lot. Oh and did I mention the heat? This is what nightmares are made off.

Eventually we managed to get some traction and I remember googling halfway through the trip that I wonder the top 3 cities with the most congestion. As a researcher these sort of fun facts bring me joy. I was in no way surprised by the number 1 answer. I was in it.

 

Lastly, another thing that needed getting used to was the overall feel for the city in the sense that a lot had changed since my last visit back in 2009 but at the same time… a lot hadn’t changed. Billboards were everywhere. Constantly promoting a service, investment opportunities (which was a bit strange since most people couldn’t even dream of earning that much talk less investing it), church adverts for attending their prayer service which claimed to break chains of poverty (whatever that means) and the latest Netflix movies and TV shows. I couldn’t remember it being this abundant. Something which failed to move an inch was the lack of decent infrastructure and the sudden power cuts. Nepa would take the light regardless of who needed.

Another interesting change was the lack of cash payments accepted almost anywhere. It was chip and pin payments only. Luckily for me I had a bank card but it made me wonder.

What about the millions of people who don’t have access to a bank?

I pocketed the thought and continued with my day.

106 & 107

The food experience was tantalising on the trip. There really is a stark difference in flavour from Nigerian food in the UK to one in the native country. And as food critic, dear I say that you have not eaten proper Nigerian food until you have it here or at least in Africa. Everything tasted so different. The various meats, bread, yams and my favourite the plantain. If you’re a foodie then Lagos has an abundance of food joints for you to dig into to.

Most of my trip was spent eating different dishes the city had to offer. In terms of aesthetically pleasing places, the island took the crown for that. It also took the crown for the pricer ones (but again nothing my British Pounds couldn’t handle). But for the more local feel the mainland had all the nicest spots.

One of my favourite places was this eatery that served traditional pounded yam or Iyán as they call it in the Yoruba language. A spot in the Ikeja area called Ilé Iyán. I’m talking traditional all the way down to the attire worn by waiters, straw mats with no shoes to the songs played.

Classic yoruba tracks by King Sunny Ade (Legend) was playing in the background befitting of the experience. The portion sizes were hearty and the pounded yam was everything I remembered it was over a decade ago. Pounded yam is simply yams which have been pounded in a wooden mortar and moulded into a ball. It’s high in fiber, potassium and vitamin c which makes for a super healthy diet. After eating, it made sense why they had mats and pillows in the first place. You’ll hardly be able to stand up. Another great touch was the nice chat with one of the managers at the restaurant called Yoshi about Lagos life and other nice places to visit.

 

Another good chunk of my trip was spent chatting with locals. I always manage connecting with locals no matter where I travel. The main language in Nigeria is English but there are over 500 different languages spoken throughout the country. Yep 500! Another common lingua franca is pidgin english which is similar to Caribbean Patios or Haitian creole. I speak pidgin english fluently. Although my accent gives it away most the time I fit speak am well well wid mi people dem. 

What are the weekends like in Lagos I hear you ask? Filled with activities. Mainly bars and clubbing/party sort of activities but again plenty of it. If you like enjoyment, Lagos is the place for you. It was a Friday night and this time I planned on staying on the island. I wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice this time. Ikoyi to be precise was where I booked a hotel when the strangest coincidence happened. For those who believe in energy alignment (raising my hand) this was nothing short of it. Check this out.

So I was messaging one of my friends Gunju who I intended to meet at some point but not confirmed where on island. We hadn’t seen each other since our engineering undergrad days at Brighton University (UK) about 10 years ago. The plan was to meet up on the island at a club called Silk with another one of my mates but Gunju slept off and I got this message in the morning.

Were my eyes deceiving me… no way! He was in the exact same hotel as me. We verified we were talking about the same place by arranging to meet for breakfast at the hotel restaurant, and low and behold it was him! We couldn’t stop laughing.

What made things even stranger was finding out we were literally at rooms right next to each other. He was in room 106, and I 107. We caught up on life, work, travels, football and everything in between and just before he checked out we arranged to meet up at the same hotel next weekend. Talk about a coincidence.

 

Driving back to the island that evening, I saw a little girl no more than 7 years selling biscuits at the traffic lights. My heart sunk. I reached into my wallet and gave her the remaining cash I had. This in turn sparked a conversation with I and my Uber driver Deji on why there needs to be a revolution in Nigeria not tomorrow or soon but right now. The system had failed her. And millions more like her. To make matters worse, there was an abundance of money on the island. I could see it, feel it and damn near smell it.

Why was this wealth so concentrated and not equally distributed for the betterment of Nigerians as a whole?

My pockets were starting to bulge at this point because of all these pocketed thoughts.

On the mainland and about a 5 minute drive from my hotel, our car came to a halt. It was a police officer… reeking of alcohol and flashing a bright torch into our faces holding a camel brown AK-47. Any slip of the hand and it could have made bullets fly in any direction. I took a deep sigh.

“Oya get out of dis vehicle!”

In an attempt to circumvent the situation I silently asked the driver “I beg you get anything on you?” (cash) to which he replied “no”. I quickly opened my wallet and saw nothing but brown leather then I remembered, the last cash on me I had just given that girl. Damn it!

My first encounter with the Nigerian police force.