Lagos is tough as a nail.
Nothing like the place of excellence it was touted to be except when vices are the subject matter and focus.
A hybrid mixture of undulated sounds like a broken gramophone. Lagos! It will sap the air from you in a quick gasp and make you blubber like one who is obviously suffocating. It will crush you to powder and leave the debris scattered in Mushin with a foul odour.
It will take off the smile on your face and leave your lips patched and rough like the harmattan season.
It will bring you on your knees with the gridlock and traffic jam. The beggars would chant “Bambi Allah, Nyenụ m ego” to your auditory meatus till you pray for death and damnation. It will serenade your eardrum to chaos and catastrophe until you are forced to shout at them “…Go and work!” “Get something doing for yourself since your hands and feet are intact…”
They will curse you in unknown tongues afterwards with eyes rolling and a heart filled with hate.
Lagos. This Lagos wey we dey so…
It will reconfigure your existence and leave you a complete psychopath without horns and vampiric dentition jumping buses with the precision of a lethal cat. It will teach you to hiss at people and spread your five fingers apart in “Waka”…
Far from Wakanda.
Lagos is a big trap.
It will consume your time that you may never know how you are suddenly consumed in the rat race. The hours don’t trickle by, it actually runs like a horse unhinged, unbridled, and untethered.
All the sane people left, leaving a mammoth crowd of the senile. Look around, they are mumbling as they go on the road, far from control. The other one is knocked down cold from trying to cross the express road with a footbridge few meters away.
The other one in green is spitting phlegm into the plastic bag thrown neatly out of the window with the conductor in a fist cuff with another man in suit and tye.
Chaos got nothing on these people.
A “beautiful” sight!
Mad people, mad city!
It is becoming a mirage to cope with your everyday dramatic justice served cold as night, as the sight varies from every individual viewing this mayhem from their binoculars.
To some, it is a bubbling city, fast as death akin with Sọdọm. To others, it is a prism with a bottleneck grip, suffocating lives, to others, it is BAT’s home. They exist to survive. Whatever the day brings they consume with appreciation and gusto.
About the Writer: Onyeka ChimelieOnyeka Michael is the Director of KSH. A creative writer and Serial Entrepreneur. He is presently working with passionate business owners who specialize in high profit, low-cost marketing and advertising strategies for offline and online businesses. Onyeka is the Author of Nigerian Best Selling Book: "Life as I see it" and "Evolution of the Igweship institution in Oba.