I love Lagos, and I
have never denied this fact, the love between Lagos and I, is like the love the
people of Sapele have for local gin (popularly known as Sapele water). The love
I have for this city that never sleeps is stronger than the love my Enugu
people have for Okpa, sometimes it gives me goose bumps.
Life in Lagos is
theatric, the city is a theatre of absurd, and it is impossible living here and
not losing your sanity at intervals for various reasons.
Early morning
sleeps were constantly interrupted by call for prayers from a megaphone in a
nearby mosque, or the sonorous voice of an “Agege bread seller” announcing the
arrival of hot loaves.
Friday nights were
wakeful nights, we were held captive by the deafening sound from a 1000 decibel
speaker and the shout of fire from the Pentecostal church two blocks away from
my house.
While on bus
(popularly called “Molue”) one is sandwiched in between stench especially at
the close of business.
The city birthed
the memory of my boyhood, which transverses across all nooks and crannies in
the state.
Growing up in
Mushin, in the late nineties was eventful, beautiful memories etched on the
sand of time, I remember the week armed robbers wrote us a letter, announcing
their coming, we waited anxiously, made bonfire on the street for more than
three weeks, we scared them away, lol, they never came, someone later confessed
that it was a stunt pulled by some young boys in the neighborhood.
When my age grade
who lived in plush neighborhoods like Ilupeju, Maryland and Anthony revered Captain
America, Samurai X, Godzilla, Earthworm Jim, Timon and Pumbaa, I revered “Budossa”,
I loved him dearly, he was my childhood superhero and fortunately he lived on
my street, not many people had the luxury of sharing neighborhood with their
superhero.
I felt and ruffled the hair on his body, every
morning, before I went to school, I sneak out of the house to pay him
obeisance.
His horn was his magic wand; when he was
charged up, he unleashed it, sending his opponent to the ground with a force
that could crush the panel of a Picanto salon car.
Ogbeni La, the handler of Budossa could
place his bet on him and go to bed, he was sure Budossa was going to win any
fight, he had unrivalry confidence in him; Budossa never disappointed his
supporters unlike Arsenal football club, Budossa was the reigning king, master
of hat trick, lord of all rams in Mushin.
Years later, my family relocated to
another neighborhood and I remember when I visited and I was told Budossa
passed on few years after my family relocated, I was low-spirited for weeks. It
is funny how this ram formed the basis of my childhood and growing up years.
