Lagos Is Not a Real Place

"Lagos is not a real place"

You think I should have clocked that earlier right?

No I didn't! It took a lot for me to actually realize that this city and the things that happen in it can't be real; they must be a figment of my imagination.

Seven months. That's how long I've been here, and and I’m still not convinced this is real life. Every day feels like a fever dream that I need to wake up from. It's not necessarily bad. Just… unreal.

One thing Lagos makes very clear very quickly: everyone here is the main character.

Not “feels like” ooo — IS.
The woman pushing you aside at the market? Main character.
The danfo driver zigzagging through traffic like road signs and traffic lights are optional suggestions? Main character.
What's worse? The conductor putting his armpit directly over your face? Crazy things for real!

There are no supporting characters here. No extras. Just millions of people starring in their own movies, all being shot on the same set, at the same time, with no director. It’s so so chaotic.

If there's one thing Lagos has mastered, it's consistency. Not the kind of consistency you'd want, mind you, but consistency nonetheless. The city is reliably loud, perpetually rowdy, and has a signature odour that stays the same (and may be a bit worse as you proceed) whether you're in Ayobo or Oshodi or Obalende or Eko Hotel Roundabout! Disagree as much as you want o but Lagos dey smell.💔😭

Let me tell you about Lagos transportation, because this is where my brain officially gave up trying to make sense of things. The math will simply never add up.

Why am I paying full fare when I'm dropping halfway?

Talmabout "ANY BUS STOP 500 oo"

Can someone explain this to me like I'm five? And why do the prices change like cryptocurrency? Monday to Friday, one price. Weekend, different price. Early morning, another price. Evening, outrageously high price!

I've given up trying to understand it. I just bring out my money when I can and pay.

And then there was the day I entered a danfo bus and watched the driver secure the door with a padlock. If you think I'm kidding check the gallery at the end of the post.

There was also something I realized: there are too many dishonest people here. Too many people who would climb over you without a second thought if it meant getting ahead. The hustle is real, but sometimes the hustle has no honor.

It’s tiring. Being guarded all the time is tiring. But Lagos teaches you that trust without discernment is expensive.

Seven months later, I’m still here ooo.

Some days I love the energy, the boldness, the resilience. Other days I want out. But Lagos has a way of staying with you. It irritates you and intrigues you at the same time. It strips away your assumptions and replaces them with thicker skin.

Now, before someone clears their throat and says, “So if Lagos is doing you like this, why not just leave?” — relax. I hear you.

I’m not here because I’m emotionally attached. I’m just here for the plot. Purely for character development. Once the lesson is complete and the season finale drops, I will exit quietly, without announcements and very much without plans of returning.

Lagos is not a real place.
It’s a chapter of my life. And I already know I’m not staying till the epilogue.