It’s really hard to live in Lagos.
So, after closing from work today around 5pm, at Oshodi precisely, I entered my apartment at Ikorodu, a distance of a few kilometers, at exactly 8:25pm – more than 3 hours after.
It dawned on my firstly upon getting to bus-stop, & the number of commuters there are almost more than the number of students in my department at school. Poly Ibadan, civil engineering 2016/2017 set has close to 400 students. Whilst the number of buses available barely reaches 10.
After much struggling to get unto a bus, I succeeded in getting into one, & then bus became hell! Hell! Ranging from the stench of sweats cum body odour of commuters like me, to the almighty dreaded Lagos”hold-up”… Ahn! I wanted to die.
All through my 3 hours journey, I saw no traffic warden controlling the already juxtaposed traffic – none. My legs became so stiff, that I soon forgot the stress I accumulated at work, & the pain at present burnt me into silent groans – I couldn’t complain, cause everyone in the vehicle seems to be used to the stress. Who thus am I to talk?
I’m not really good at description, but all in all, life in Lagos is death. Lagos is a living hell! The pressure our brains are subjected to is way higher that what it can accommodate.
Now, this is me lying almost lifeless on bed faced once again with the thought of how to survive this stress cum pain tomorrow.
I sincerely see no sense in hyping Lagos. The city is a death trap to it’s inhabitants.
Man is tired mehn, although not too tired to publish this post… ***runs off to see my food on fire***