LAS GIDI – THE CITY OF HUSTLE

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'Welcome to Lagos' was the first sign you would see when entering Las Gidi some many years ago, just like you can still see ‘Welcome to …’ at the entrance to states like Osun, Akwa Ibom and Sokoto. Today, that welcome address has been changed, redesigned if you will and in my opinion, the new greeting is more in line with what Lagos has become, it says, 'Change Your Thinking'.

Las Gidi - the unofficial re-christening - has become the city of hustle, many men have left the shadows of their fathers’ lands in search of fame and fortune in the concrete jungle that is Nigeria's economic capital. A land where being the king-pin of the infamous 'Area Boys' could mean you become an instant millionaire, a land where being an importer/exporter and selling goods in the 'makeet' (market) is a superbly lucrative venture, a land where owning a convenience store the size of a phone booth can sustain your struggle and a land where there are many suit&tie opportunities, take your pick. Lagos is truly a land for all peoples to turn a profit, if and only if they dare.

The beauty of 'Lag', as it is also popularly abbreviated is that it is not restricted to only Nigerians, not by a long shot. In fact, foreign nationals like the Chinese, Lebanese and Indians have become so comfortable here that you would be foolish to mistake them for 'tourist grade' travellers. For instance, I have personally seen on several occasions my people from The People's Republic of China riding on okada a.k.a. commercial motorbikes, a friend of mine even saw a fervent China-man the other day, arguing viciously with a conductor for his change. If you want to speak of adaptability, I present to you the Nigerian-Lebanese (as I like to call them) who have become so fluent in speaking Pidgin English that they can sell you, a native Lagosian, don't test them. I also hear that the Indians have refused to carry last, they now prefer Eba and Egusi (E&E) to Biryani or Chutney - google Indian foods. I don’t even think there is a need to mention that our African brothers; the Femi Kwames (Ghanaians), Obinna Gnassingbes (Togolese) and Bello Yayis (Beninians) are all present, playing the struggle game beautifully.

Now, let me explain why the new warning to first timers - Johnny Just Come a.k.a. JJC - to Lagos to change their thinking is very important. You see, many in the multitude of nooks and crannies of various towns and villages in Nigeria and beyond hear of the riches and allure of Lagos and rush in, only to discover that most of the shine they have heard of is fool’s gold. People forget that Lagos has been unofficially rechristened Las Gidi for a reason, or perhaps the merchants who spin tales of the vast opportunities that lie forget to mention the other side of the story, these merchants seem to sell only the tip of the tail. The other side is that Las Gidi, Lagos, the city of gidi-gidi is hustle personified. So before you decide to pack your bags and come slumming it Gidi style, remember that this is not Nollywood; you may be an underdog in your village but in Lagos, you most certainly may not become a millionaire.

But hey, don’t let me rain on your parade.

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There are a number of legal ways into Lagos - of course the bush paths are innumerable - and all, as one would expect, see their fair share of traffic. There is the Lagos-Badagry expressway which leads to Nigeria’s boarder with the Republic of Benin, Seme Boarder; there is the Lagos-Ibadan expressway that leads to Ibadan and also sets you on the path to the East; the Lagos-Abeokuta expressway passing by Toll-Gate, Ota, takes you to the Senator Ibikunle Amosun transformed Ogun State capital, Abeokuta (ABK); the Lekki expressway takes you through Epe to Ijebu land, home of the infamous Ijebu garri - they need to patent that product - and then there is the Shagamu road that goes to well, Shagamu, where there is a permanent NYSC camp.

Whichever way you may decide to come through, a concrete jungle is nevertheless still a jungle and the jungle rules still apply; kill or be killed! Figuratively of course. So, always remember that there are vultures waiting for their next meal, don’t become somebody's dinner.

Now, enough with the dark sides and grim tales, let’s get to the beautiful sides of Lagos, the reward that awaits you if you beat the odds and make it to the top.

Within the same city where we have places like Ajegunle and Mushin, we have Ikoyi and Victoria Island; the disparity between ‘I don hammer’ and ‘I dey come’ is deeper than Nigerian men’s love for Premiere League, Champion’s League and international football put together. The real gold in Lagos is beautiful, if and only if you can grab it. When you have been through the pits of the city and you survive, the prize is glorious. A massive house in Banana Island, at least four cars: Benz C-Class, one Hummer, two Prado; next, a beautiful #TeamLightSkin wife or #TDH hubby (your preference of course) and then a 9-digit bank account - you live like royalty!

When you have made it in the city of hustle, problems like NEPA; no light, house; no food and side chick; no allowance become a thing of the past. You have become a made-man - or woman - and you can more often than not do as you please. In fact, you will even be given police escort so that the people ‘wey still dey come’ no go block your road. At this point it is necessary to inform you that some people are fortunate, they do not need to jump into the ring to sweat and break bones, they simply have to be average and their fathers' names will do the rest. Don’t get jealous, if you have any problems with it, go and complain to your father.

It was once reported that living in Lagos was - and still may be - more expensive than living in Los Angeles in the US, but this should not deter you. If you were born with that ‘I go make am’ spirit like me and you believe deep down that you can survive, then I welcome you to Lagos, the Lagos after you have survived the hustle.

See you at the top!

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JIMI VERSUS AMBO – THE BATTLE FOR LAGOS

“Gbagaun, gidon, gbagaun…(Town crier rings)” My people, the second round of elections is here and the battle is on (Town crier leaves)!  The race to see who will become the Governor of the states is about to begin but of the thirty six, only twenty nine will be holding gubernatorial elections this year. Previous election results that were overturned by the courts are the reason for this state of affairs but I do not believe that staggered elections hurt our democracy; on the contrary, I believe they help it. Now, of those set to rumble, the polls seem already decided in places like Delta and Katsina (judging from the massive one-sidedness seen in round one, the presidential). That notwithstanding, there are still those for whom the decision is far from made, their races are tight and too close to call, for instance Plateau and Lagos. Alas, the tides have changed since the outcome of the first round; allegiances have shifted, smiles have turned to frowns and frowns to smiles, even new words have been created: jega – to be calm and orubebe – to disturb/make noise, so we have to buckle up and hold on to our seats, this is a wild election, and guns are blazing.

These 2015 elections have so far seen the awakening of the average Nigerian; the nation just seems to have woken up from its Snow White like slumber. If you ask me, I think it was hunger that woke the people up, as I am sure you will agree, ‘hunger no dey allow man sleep’. So no matter the evil witches (political parties) or their poison apples (stomach infrastructure), hunger (no need for explanation) is sure to overcome all. The war of the kings has been fought and now, would be generals are lining up, throwing their hats in the ring, to see who will reign alongside the new king of NairaLand. I have already written my letter to President Buhari, maybe he will hire me as a Dark Knight in his new administration.

The general (governor) of Lagos as we should know is like the second president of Nigeria, he is one of the only citizens, except the first lady of course, that can battle the number one citizen and survive (ask Tinubu or Obasanjo). Lagos is a special state, not only for its economic might but also for its vast collection of Nigerians. I often like to believe that the 371 tribes and 521 languages in the country are well represented within the borders of Las Gidi (Lagos). The population of the state (about 21 million) rivals that of countries like Ghana (24 million) and surpasses others like Belarus and Togo (about 9 million each) and the 3,577 sq.km that is Lagos is probably one of the most densely African populated areas in the world. So, permit me to focus on one particular showdown; the scuttle in the South-West, the clash for the commercial capital, the battle for Lagos!

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The contestants in this Lagos 2015 race are Mr Jimi Agbaje of the PDP and Mr Akinwunmi Ambode of the APC, both with female deputies. The two sides have not relented in their campaigns, reeling out slogans and theme songs at every turn, a lot of these are quite catchy (I sing some of them in the shower). The battle for Eko has seen many accusations and counter accusations shot and dodged but neither contestant has been seen to be losing his cool, both feathers are completely unruffled, what poise! The only unfortunate phenomenon in this chronicle is the wedge being driven into cracks that are tribal divides. Indigenes are pitted against non-indigenes, Yoruba against Igbo; we will get to that later.

First, let’s get to know our candidates a bit better. Mr Jimi Agbaje aka uncle JK is a pharmacist by profession, a business man who has risen up the ranks of his industry, owning his own pharmaceutical and chemical company since 1982. He has been elected to sensitive positions in Nigeria’s professional pharmaceutical bodies, working with Lagos and has been a politician since 2005. Mr Akinwunmi Ambode aka uncle Ambo is an accountant, an administrator and a public finance management expert. He is a civil servant of many years and has been one of the key players in the affairs of Lagos state since the times of the new evil genius (IBB is the old evil genius), the godfather of APC himself, Asiwaju Bola Tinubu.

Back to the divides, the Oba of Lagos, Oba Rilwan Akiolu, recently generated some commotion in his domain with a rather unbefitting statement from a traditional ruler. The retired police officer was reported as saying that the Igbo people who are resident in the state would drown in the Lagos Lagoons if they refused to vote for the candidate of his choice. The statement expectedly drew criticism and ire, bringing even the youths (like myself) into the discussion on facebook, twitter and other social media platforms. Oba Rilwan Akiolu’s words were to say the least very inciting but I hear he has tendered some apologies for his rancorous words.

As we have seen from the presidential elections, the polls in Lagos are divided almost equally between the two leading political parties. Certain factions of the people want change in the state just as they have seen in the presidential scenario; others are of the opinion that this is potentially the first time Lagos will ally politically with the Federal Government. As with Nigeria Decides there are pros and cons to each side of the divide. On one hand, I believe a balance of powers is necessary. This balance of powers is what allowed an opposition party such as the APC to rise and defeat the incumbent government, a system of checks and balances is needed in any democratic institution and what better check than the second president of Nigeria going to the opposition. On the other hand, Lagos has honestly achieved a lot without explicit support from Abuja, one can only imagine what possibilities lie ahead of a Lagos receiving its due from the ‘oga on top’. A collusion of two great powers has a potentially limitless bound; I even shudder at the thought of what could be.

As JK mockingly calls for ‘Change’ in Lagos, Uncle Fash (Governor Babatunde Raji Fashola) writes his citizens a letter where he claims that APC has a better track record than its greatest opposition, the PDP. I must, however, cordially and unbiasedly remind him that the APC is a new party and is not necessarily the same as ACN or AC but I cannot argue with him on the issue on Fire service. Call them APC or ACN, the fire on 23 Road - Festac Lagos is a testament to the Lagos fire service. So, should we trust Uncle Fash?

The political season is coming to an end, after this second round, the politics and all its attendant fanfare will be gone with the wind. Will the third time runner, Jimi Agbaje win or will four be his lucky number like Buhari, meaning that he will concede this round to Asiwaju’s anointed, Akinwunmi Ambode. Whatever history will record will be determined by your votes, however, I am disappointed to say that of the about 5.8 million registered voters in Lagos, only 3.8 million collected their Permanent Voter’s Cards (PVC) and even a more abysmal number, 1.5 million actually turned up to vote for round one, out of a total population of about 21 million (7% turn out). Would you be happy if this was your child’s exam score? Please for round two, don’t disappoint me, come out and vote. I leave you with a quote from Uncle Fash:

“They have handed today to you and I, can we secure tomorrow for the next generation” – Babatunde Raji Fashola.

Don’t disregard the labour of our heroes past, may the man with the most votes win. Eku elections (Happy election)!

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THE FIRE ON 23 ROAD – FESTAC, LAGOS

I am starting my own blog, so I am bringing along all my articles that I published on a friend's blog

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“There is fire in house 2! There were children locked inside the house…” those were the words of my elderly neighbour, Mrs A, returning from the scene of some ongoing tragedy. Immediately, my mother went for all our official documents she always keeps in a ready to go bag while, my father, brother and I set off in the direction of the blaze. On getting to the front of the close, T Close, we observed the residents of the first few houses on the left hastily withdrawing their belongings from their homes; stuffing generators, plasma TVs, gas cylinders and the works into the back seat of their cars. Some had already driven their cars away! Immediately, we realised the fire was coming from the next close on the left, U Close.

We breached the front gates of the rectagularly shaped T close to meet the growing crowd, restless and frantic, no fire fighters in sight. The fire was ravaging the first three 50ft by 25ft duplexes in the close. The bellows of smoke we could only barely see from our house were now in full sight [Time check: 2pm Saturday, February 14th, Valentine’s Day]. Amidst the chaos, there was some semblance of organization. The residents of the houses under siege, with the help of the willing, were salvaging whatever they could to ameliorate the pains they were surely already feeling. Kitchen sets, mattresses, electronics and clothes to say the least were sprawled all over the pedestrian walkway beside the houses.

While cars were nonchalantly passing by on the street in front of U close and onlookers were calling to their gods, some brave young men were busy trying to put an end to the burning. Some of these had direct interests in the outcome of this match of man with fire, others, not even a penny to gain. These young men who had climbed the scaffoldings used to support water tanks were fighting back, hacking at the rooftops, removing potential fuel sources that would add to the strength of the flames and pouring all the water they could get their hands on (there had not been light for more than two straight days, there was not much water available). One person in particular lifted a generator filled with gasoline, hurried on top the edge of a 7ft fence and handed the machine to safety. The young men who had succeeded in breaking through the roof at this time met with the consequence of this action. The raging winds swept in, raising the inferno higher, smoke gushed into the streets of U close and the flames were now clearly visible from blocks away.

If you have never been to Festac Town (Festac for short) or you don’t know about the houses in Festac, then let me get you up to speed so you will appreciate the urgency of the situation. In Festac there are several housing unit models: Type-9, Type-8, Type-7, 16 flat blocks, 32 flat blocks and the self-developed houses. T9 or Type-9 is a stand-alone house covering 75 by 50ft. T8 is a 75 by 25ft semi-detached house, sharing only one wall with another T8. T7, the model of the burning houses is a 50 by 25ft model sharing each side wall with another T7, except the first and last houses of every close.

The grape vine was already filled with rumours of how the fire began, the most common of which was, as repeated in pidgin, “I hear say na gas cause am!” The fire had eaten into the core of the buildings, the intense heat could be felt from more than 30ft away (more than three Honda SUVs bumper to bumper), glass began to spontaneously shatter and cracks began to appear on the walls of the houses. Personal effects were still being hauled away, buckets of water were still being hoisted to the brave boys on the scaffolds and even the people too scared to go closer contributed their quota, pelting the burning building with sachet water, from a safe distance.

Stealing myself away from the snare of the crackling fire, I realised I had parted ways with my father and brother. I should say here that I am older than 20 years and I am the youngest member of my family so, no need to worry. Going into U close itself to get a different angle of the situation, I caught up with my father who said he was just fresh from the Fire Service office in Festac but to his dismay, they were not equipped, they had no fire truck! The personnel at the Fire Service office, however, contacted their sister stations at the Ojo, Surulere and Ikeja local governments.

More than an hour after the battle had begun, the cavalry arrived. To my surprise, but not really so because I could empathise, the people turned against the Firemen, blocking the path of their vehicle and chanting them to go away, “Na now them dey come!? After the houses don burn!” the people raved as they were beginning to mobilize against the Fire Fighters. It took the counter action of people like my father, other rationally reasoning individuals, the few police men present and I to sway the crowd to let the men do their job. It was a Lagos state fire truck that had come from some other local government fire station.

The service men came out of their vehicle kitted, set up their equipment and began to spray the fire with foaming water from their truck, the fight was going to the people. The brave young men popular among which was Mr Onyeka, did not relent; they joined hands with the official fighters receiving pointers and warnings from the crowd. While the battle was going on, another fire truck arrived. [Time check: 4pm Saturday, February 14th, two hours after fire start]. With the help of the second firefighting crew, the match was set. The now large and boisterous crowd was moving back and forth in waves as the wind blew smoke and firefighting foam in their directions. The battle was now finally won but the wordings of what will be the tale of the fire on 23 road was still in its infancy.

Now, time to criticise, allocate blame and proffer solutions. The fire is rumoured to have started from the third house on the line of T7s and there were reportedly three children, all younger than 15, locked inside the house as at the time the fire started. Their mother was said to have locked them inside the house and gone out. Given that there has not been light in the area for more than two days straight (I can testify to that), an electrical fire was easily ruled out. This left to reason that somehow, the children in the third house had started the fire. This can be ruled as negligence of parents leaving their young children locked in the house unsupervised.

Next, it was rumoured that the resident of the second house was met by the brave young men when the fire had just begun and was only in house three, for permission to attempt battling the blaze from said resident’s house. Access was denied. It may be worth mentioning here that the ground floor of house two has been turned to a mini-restaurant. Unfortunately, however, house two was eventually consumed in the fire episode.

Lastly, from the grape vine, it was rumoured that while the fire was still in its early stages, owners of vehicles parked close to the scene rushed over to remove their assets and while doing so, turned deaf ears to pleas to assist with fire extinguishers present in their vehicles.

This is the narrative as viewed through my glasses, facts as seen with my eyes, laced with fresh rumour-wine from the grape vine. I believe this situation could have been prevented if only young children were not left unattended in the first place. I believe the fire would not have destroyed so much if Festac had its own fire truck. I believe a few more caring Nigerians than just the brave young men and even the water pelters would have made a difference.

What is your opinion, what do you believe?



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