'Beyond the chaos, there's a real human bond': Lagos residents share their stories

Lagos week, we have ventured from the “waterworld” of Makoko to the hectic Oshodi motor park and the blackout-stricken suburb of Ikorodu,
exploring the daily realities and challenges of the city. But we wanted to hear from those of you who live in Lagos: what’s changing? What’s great and what’s difficult? What kind of future do you envisage for the city?

We received memories, photos and reflections on everything from the generosity of strangers to the contentious Eko Atlantic project, and even got sent a richly poetic account of crossing the Third Mainland Bridge – which we’ve included in full at the end of the piece. Thank you so much to all those who contributed and got involved in Guardian Lagos week.
An undated view of Lagos before it became a megacity.
An undated view of lagos

    Where else in the world do you see a total stranger smile at you from his car in the snail-paced traffic snarl on 3rd Mainland Bridge and bellow, seeing the creases of worry as you sit in your own car running late to work, “Ol’ boy, no worry, e go better”? Where else do you walk up to a complete stranger and say, “Bros, I never eat today” and he replies “My guy, hold this hundred naira, go find something chop. E go better”? The sheer shared humanity of Lagos is incomparable. Beyond the chaos, there is a real human bond. Beyond the facade of class, every body eats’ boli’ and ground nuts in Lagos. It is a beautiful city. E go better.

    Ahhh, Eko, city of aquatic splendour, one of the most exciting and frustrating places I’ve ever lived in. The economic growth is phenomenal and it’s truly something to see the ‘Wild West’ entrepreneurial spirit in action. But I really want to know if the state government is content to just allow this kind of continued chaotic expansion.

A ‘go-slow’ in  Lagos.

    The expansion of Lagos is much more than just a question of the (disgusting) Atlantic City project. Whilst the government engages in silly artificial projects such as that, individuals are developing new areas of Lagos rapidly, spreading into the neighbouring Ogun State as well. This development is still in its early stages (even if it’s been going on for 10-20 years) – in many areas you will find houses still being built, roads still being developed, new communities emerging.

    The infrastructure to cope with this is certainly not there, but it’s intriguing how Lagos continues to organically develop (this is more or less the same with Abuja). Lagos was originally small in size (even if big in population), it’s now getting much bigger. If only the government(s) would focus on job creation plans instead of silly gimmicks...

    I was born and bred in Lagos Island. The migration from other cities in Nigeria and neighbouring countries means the infrastructure cannot cope. Unfortunately our leaders did not plan ahead but I think things are changing for the better. I have hope in the present administration of President Buhari.

    I don’t see how Lagos can continue functioning at double the size. It barely functions now. Even if you live in a block with an emergency power generator, you need a battery powered UPS for the telly to cover times when the generator doesn’t have any fuel. The traffic? You can’t describe it. You’ve been there, or you haven’t. It can take two hours to get from your flat on Ikoyi to an office on Victoria. (electricobserver)

    I have lived in Lagos for more than 6 years, and it’s a beautiful place if one has friends; inclusive, charming, full of problems and full of solutions, conversations are easy and free flowing. If roads are busy, there are things you can buy off the road. If there’s no power, small roadside bars in unknown streets serve your needs.

    Lagos has really changed in terms of the people and infrastructure compared to how it was 8 years ago. It has really evolved into a megacity with the help of the former governor Babatunde Raji Fashola, and it has helped people reduce the hardship there used to be. Lagos now has good pedestrian bridges, metropolitan buses we call BRT buses and good roads in the major areas. But the government needs to create more alternative routes for people and expand the roads, because every day of the week there is always traffic everywhere.

    I have been living in Lagos for 9 months. Anything can be done, anything can happen. If you take it for what it is without comparing, you will succeed here; if you want something other, you will suffer. It is what it is. That is what makes it special. Like all cities with a strongly defined but difficult to quantify identity, it will continue to survive and adapt.

    Increasing sophistication of the Lagos social elite means a proliferation of artistic events. These young professionals are the future middle class that a developing society needs, but does the current government understand what is required to deliver the necessary infrastructure to prevent them from leaving?

The Third Mainland Bridge

The long bridge is a story. You can feel her curves beneath you as you move, and if you’re still you can feel her sway and vibrate like a drunkard. There’s an incessantly honking Toyota Camry behind you. Outside the window a guy selling pirated DVD’s walks past, followed by another selling red oak plantain chips. Your eyes meet his, he pulls closer. You don’t need to honk or beckon him over; if you didn’t mean to patronize him, you wouldn’t have held his gaze for more than a millisecond. You wind your window down, and make the transaction. Two for N200. He gives you your change before you hand him the money. You both know the drill.

You can look to your right at the sleepy lagoon, with its bare chested fishermen canoeing sharply, awake to the early morning opportunity; past it, the three housing blocks of the University of Lagos, tower above the city’s newly crowned technology capital, Yaba. Drive further down and you can see the shanties of Makoko, stilts rising up from the water in proud defiance, a story of too many clashes with the governments of any given day. If you look hard enough there’s the blue roof of the floating school, evidence of the charity of Lagosian millenials and talented architects.

You can be forgiven for not taking in the sights though. There’s more than enough to occupy your attention in the busy traffic. Unless you leave your house before 6.30am or after 10 am – in the evenings, before 4 or after 10 – you’ll be stuck in it. The Olympic slap-slap-slapping of rubber slippers as hawkers chase seemingly interested drivers, the grifting confidence of the ones who sell fake windscreen wipers, dog leashes, jump cables that only work for one week after purchase, and that pink rubber hose thingy for transferring fuel from a jerry can to your car, during fuel scarcity – Chinese solutions to Nigerian problems.

On any given day, there’s a minimum of four lanes formed on the bridge. You want to stick to the inside left when you're tired or in a tranquil mood. It's the sanest lane, the first lane. You can't swerve left so it moves more predictably than the others. The only problem is this is where all the cars that want to breakdown, breakdown, and that can be infuriating. Also, sometimes, in really bad traffic the man in front of you will come out of his car, pull his zipper down, and piss shamelessly on his tyres. He won’t look at you when you pull up beside him, honking about decorum and proper manners. When you gotta go, you go.

The second lane from the left is for young people in Elantras, Second-hand Accords and Kia Rios. They're slightly late for work, but they're not ready to scratch their nice cars. The drivers here are sensible, but a lot more aggressive than first. Second is safe, second is quick.

Third is quicker. Third has Land cruisers with newspaper reading, bankers in the back seats, Danfo buses with conductors trading insults with their passengers, some lorry with Julius Berger construction workers crammed in its back like sardines. Third has a station wagon full of kids‎, the driver swerving like a drunkard. Third is in a hurry. There are people really, really late for work; there are taxi and Danfo drivers, for whom time (and fuel) is literally money. You don't argue if your car is scratched on third. You know what you signed up for.

All the trouble on the bridge starts from fourth. Half the traffic on the bridge is because fourth lane drivers are so very badly behaved. At Oworo, the bus drivers stop abruptly on the road to pick up passengers. Horns blaring, the drivers behind them swerve into third, and cause everyone else to move left into poor first. Traffic. At the Ebute-Metta exit, fourth drivers try to be smart and cut the line, causing that insane bottleneck when the others refuse to let them back in. It’s not uncommon to see drivers fighting on fourth.

Third Mainland traffic heaves along in the early morning, sound tracked by the inspirational tapes and music of its sleep-deprived travellers. The evenings belong to the radio. Hilarious complaints and political commentary on Nigeria info, the Britamerigerian accents on The Beat fm or the brash pidgin humour of Wazobia fm keep you company as you crawl home. Everyone knows the rules. It's slow and steady, with the assurance of an end. For most Lagosians, that’s a good enough deal.

Every now and then some rich Oga or Madam comes along in their bulletproof cars and wailing sirens, and distorts the delicate equilibrium of this body of traffic. Once the convoy passes, there’s a slight maddening: some smart ass corolla driver who was waiting patiently beside you ,swerves into your lane, hazard lights blinking, trying to follow the convoy, to cheat, to pretend like he is one with this speeding comet of upper class oppression. He doesn’t get far. Third Mainland Bridge is just. The cheater moves a maximum of three cars ahead, till a smarter fellow cuts in front of him, hazard lights on, trying the same formula. Balance is restored. He switches his hazards off and pretends to take a phone call while you all judge him as you pass. We’re all in this together, except we can afford military convoys.