On a rainy day in Lagos

Many are mad, but few are roaming the streets of Lagos.

It had rained heavily overnight. While the rain brought sound sleep for some people with its cold atmosphere, it brought terror and trauma for others with its violent wind and endless pour. What the morning would look like had already been flushed away by the vicious current of flood that had submerged properties in the neighbourhood, rendering many people homeless, hence roaming the streets with their soaked clothes. Victims could barely salvage their lives, let alone their academic certificates, whereas others painfully watched as their love for Lekki and other areas was washed away by the flood.

What seemed to be a sad and tense night for some people was a shower of blessings for other neighbourhoods. In fact, some residents saw the torrential rain as a heavenly call for waste collection. Out of fear that their disobedience and hard-headedness had made them miss the Ark of Noah again, they resorted to feeding the flood their leftovers in kind and in excretion. In their large numbers, they rushed to empty their waste bins and pails of poo into the strong current of the flood. Some of them even waved farewell to their used rubbers and sanitary pads as they drowned into the brown water. 

Finally, when the morning came, the streets of Lagos wore the ornaments of different colours, adding to its superficial beauty. People walking the streets received the material donations with scornful smiles.

The invisible madmen who never wondered if their gifts had receivers also roamed these streets. They live amongst us, dressed in the finest of clothes and suffocating in the scent of body spray. You could never find them out in the crowd; they have the habit of speaking the truth and eating with clean hands, at least in the restaurants. They know Lagos ‘smells’ and they fight tooth and nail to defend their claim. For them, the weekly sanitation is not enough. They cry foul to the media that the state government is sabotaging their personal hygiene and lament that they have the fundamental human right to sanitation officers in their houses to wash their butts, gutters and pack their dirt after them.

Whenever government and NGO adverts paint them badly for relieving their waste into the heavy water, it is a hard pinch in the earlobe for them, but they smirk their face to mask the pain. What the government will not do, God will surely do it. Rain is from God, so they revel in their answered prayer. Without any cost, the rain carries their dirt away. 

Contrary to reports that their answered prayer is the cause of flooded homes and streets in the state, flooding is the consequence of foundational personal oversight for many house owners and tenants. For instance, residents of Ajah, Lekki and a few other areas on the Island that suffer from flooding were blinded by their materialistic taste. They shifted their eyes from the lurking endangerment in the area they have chosen to reside in to the class living in such areas confers. While they considered chilling with the big boys and girls as the absolute prize, they forgot the occasional visit of the maa-mee, since they live in her neighbourhood. 

When the sea level overflows, it pours its overflow into the nearest containers. That could be the house of our studded screen stars or niche TikTokers. The fact that some wealthy real estate moguls have reclaimed some portion of Eko land from the Atlantic Ocean is pleasing to the ears, but it should also dread the heart about the possibility of occasional torrential rainfall that could repeal their hard work. After all, land ownership in Lagos often comes with some touch of craziness and trouble chilli. But when capitalist ambition embroils the heart, it wears a fancy cap of foolery. What can a capitalist do when there are demands from people who are ready to part ways with millions of naira just to live next to the Atlantic Ocean? Absolutely nothing!

Forget about environmental awareness or compliance, at least not in the face of profitable business. Different calibres of customers come with bags of dusty cash and magical teleport of cash transfers. Though some of these people have fought dirty and rough to leave their childhood shanty areas, they prefer the trauma of occasional floods to the noise of the mainland.

Therefore, on a rainy day in Lagos, when the gate of hell is let loose, different madmen roam the street. Some are wealthy enough to afford their trauma, while others are victims of their knowledge deficit. 

Pelumi Ojo loves literature, arts and intellectual discussions surrounding them. You can find him on X via @Gen_SamuelO where he boldly propagates his fanship of Arsenal FC.