MY TWISTED FANTASY

This is a full version of my submission for @stach short story contest #17. you can get the abridged version in the comments session here.

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It is the city of dreams, the commercial capital of Nigeria. This is Lagos, I was greeted by the three statues. This is the town, so I told myself. We have been mesmerized back home watching Nollywood how fast and easy the boy from village hustles his way up the social ladder in Lagos. How he went from being a conductor on the infamous yellow buses to business tycoon with fleet of cars.

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I got into the passenger bus and paid the #1000 fare from Challenge, Ibadan – let’s go and make the life in Lagos, so I thought. I was terrified by the crowd in Oshodi all the 183 million Nigerians just moved here or something, I nearly took to my heels.

To my right, a man just snatched a lady’s bag, he was on full speed as everyone watches on. The Bus driver was trying to escape the notorious LASTMA, he swerved so much, so fast that the conductor fell off. Nollywood never told me another form of gladiator’s blood and sand exists here.

At home, there has never been light. The Transformer packed up some 6 months ago, people now use the former electric cables as hanger for their wet cloths. My neighbor only comes home when it is 11:00 pm, with brazen arrogance he reaches for his YAMAHA generator (no record of a single mechanical fault a day) and pulls the poor machine. We are all stuck with that noise for another 2 to 3 hours. No sense of consideration for any one, what a curious case of the biblical -to your tent oh Israel.

I have to wade through the wicked traffic in overcrowded buses each day, it gets worse when it is in the evening. The strong coalition of sweats from the various passengers coalesced to give a thick air that never leaves the overcrowded buses. The first lesson I learnt was to choose a seat by the window, with that I get to be the first partaker of the meager fresh air flowing into the contraption.

In the midst of an Unending chaos, everyday with its own unique twists and turn, I was fast loosing body weight due to limited sleep hours. Although I can survive on 2-4 hours of sleep naturally, the quality of sleep was abysmal in this town. Poor ventilation with noisy neighborhood devalues the quality of sleep one can get.

As I lived through each day (rising costs and meager income), I relish my previous life and times in Ibadan. No crowded streets, no wicked traffic. Empathy seems to reside in that ancient town.

I will return home, I will return to Ibadan was my final resolve. As the passenger bus drove me pass Berger, I looked back at the overhead pedestrian bridge - Right there it dawned on me how twisted my fantasy about Lagos was.