Fope's Blog

As I sit here in Murtala Mohammed Airport Lagos, waiting a gruesome four hours for my boarding time to come (thanks to over-factoring in the Lagos Traffic), I can't help but reflect on the most memorable moments of my eighty three-ish days in Nigeria. Was it worth it?  Most of the time it was, but there were definitely some  meh  days. Somewhere around day 60 of 83, I started getting tired of everything. I got frustrated with the amount of time being in traffic wasted, frustrated with how many hours in the day I lost because I had to factor in the security of travelling in dark hours and then there was the need to wait on someone to take me out because going out and looking like a clueless "I just got back" wasn't really an option ... there are plenty people out to milk you.  Yes this picture again... Nike Art Gallery is such a beautiful place. Some of my aunties and I in my late great-grandma's living room. Moneywise , I didn't spend a lot.

Yours truly made it to the Island this week!  Well... it is quite posh. I don't know if it's the idea I have of it in my head that's making me look at it through rose-coloured glasses, or if the island really is more 'chilled' than the mainland. I think it's a little of both. So far, there have been no potholes on the roads, just weird highs and lows that must be because it's still Nigeria and road maintenance isn't a serious thing. Let me list some similarities I've observed: 1) Traffic. Theirs might even be worse than ours is on the mainland. 2) People are still aggressive and oblivious to the rules of the road. 3) NEPA is still unreliable.  4) Houses are still ridiculously massive and beautiful. I can't keep taking pictures, but really, our people know how to spend their money! As for differences... 1) Things are more expensive here.   2) All those things I saw on Instagram that I wanted to do in Lagos are here!!! There

In other personal news, I've been sick for about a week and a half. It hasn't been the overwhelming type of sickness where I can't do anything, but it has been hitting me in bouts. Long story short, I have malaria but I don't. There's this weird explanation that because I'm taking anti-malarial medication every week, the malaria parasite can't stay in my blood. However, because I've been exposed to mosquitoes and the novelty of my church's camp environment, I'm showing symptoms of malaria and possibly a lingering infection. But I won't fully break down because my antimalarial is working and so is the antibiotic I started earlier. I don't even know how I feel about that. Is that what I paid all those plenty dollars for in form of travel medication? To be semi-sick? Lol. I'm seeing food and I have no interest in eating it? But I need to shed my newly added 2kg anyway so maybe it's a win. Image Source   I have no idea why I spe

I like to think of myself as a retired amebo. If people ask me what I used to do before I started living for Jesus that I no longer do, I'll point to amebo behaviour. An amebo is a person who displays a cluster of behaviours ranging from gossiping to backbiting to excessive gist-scouting and really just thriving on idle talk. Hopefully you get the drift. I believe that deciding to intentionally live for Christ has caused me to become more aware of ways in which I still display traces of my old self. So maybe there are still traces of this amebo 'skill-set' that make this week's post possible.  From the conversations I've overheard and the things I've seen, people are becoming very health conscious. Before I left Nigeria, the adults in my life used to get upset about 'meatless meals' and portion sizes that didn't correspond with their physical sizes. But now, I'm seing that older educated folks are forgoing dinner, replacing white carbs with w

Did you notice that we dropped the '.blogspot' in our name? Yeah we're now about the .com life. Please who's the "our" that I'm referring to? Lol.  I feel like an adult blogger now. Not that it's a measure of anything, but I didn't like the blogspot part anymore and I did something about it! (Such an adult-y move eh?). Shout out to my web developer friend Lemuel for all the help...yes, go see his work. Okay, moving on. Twice this week, I got asked if my nearly month long experience of being back in Nigeria has helped me decide on whether or not I'd like to move back to Nigeria for good. Has it? I don't know. I'm just taking stock of what I love and what I don't want to deal with, so that when it's time to decide, I'll have some things to consider. I love that it's very normal to see beautiful, grand houses here! I love the architecture. I now want to build beautiful, grand houses with lots of chandeliers, marble

This week started out being uneventful. I slept way more than anyone should in one week. It was very called for. As for "how" or "why" it was called for, let's just say laziness called and I answered.   On the days that I went out, I was reminded of the little things that can frustrate you about being in a developing country. How can one go to three major hotels (including Sheraton), and not be able to find a well functioning fax machine? I guess you could blame it on the transition from fax to email, but still it was annoying. Let me quickly add that I was impressed by the customer service at Lagos airport hotel. We Nigerians are generally well mannered people, but we tend to suck at customer service. Despite being the most scruffy of the three hotels I visited, the staff at Lagos airport hotel were very courteous and fun. So fun that they made our 50-minute long attempt at faxing my documents less-frustrating. Keyword: attempt.  Yes we ended up not being

I had a pretty eventful week! I've been in three states, I've commuted back and forth Ibadan and Modakeke for three days, and now I'm back in Lagos. It was fun and not really tiring, except the bumpy rides that I ranted about  here . As for a fun discovery this week, let's just say I burn through data real real quick! It's probably because I live on my phone. For me, everything goes on Snapchat and I always have something to Google.  I'm beginning to think of solutions to my surging phone bills. Maybe it's time to go sugar-daddy hunting, after all I'm in my sugar-baby prime and in the sugar daddy headquarters! Absolutely loving Lagos weather! Even the rain knows to fall at night! How cool is that? Potential Sugar daddies apply within...Ok, I'm just kidding. Today, I had the strong urge to laugh in the middle of a serious conversation. I asked a simple question that I had anticipated would take less than  5minutes to answer. But thirty minu

I counted 7 churches, 1 mosque and 3 major accidents in 2 minutes of traveling on Lagos-Ibadan expressway. They weren't the fender-bumper type of accidents. They were the car on fire, bonnet removed, and tiny-car dragged by a huge truck and wrecked beyond repair types.  So I started thinking: Do our leaders travel these routes too? Or do they fly everywhere in their private jets? Do the citizens in charge of these road-building and maintenance contracts not hear anything in the churches and mosques services that keep us up at night?  Really-no one should have to hit those sizes of potholes at expressway speed.  We almost had an accident too. We had a flat tire, and not only was it flat, we could see how much air the tire was losing in real time because the car was fancy like that. A roadside mechanic charged us to fix it, but our dashboard warning let us know that it was back deflating within seconds. So we pretty much had our hearts in our mouths the entire trip.  Then ou

You know one thing that comes with looking at old things with new eyes? Interesting discoveries!   For those of you who do not know, I have been in Nigeria for thirteen days and I will be here till the end of the year. So, I’m writing about what it feels like to go back home after half a decade. I already said in my last post that everything seems familiar except that it isn’t. And by that I meant that I’m now noticing things that have probably always been there, but had managed to go unnoticed. Every time I notice something, I wonder if I'm thinking and acting like a foreigner in my own motherland. It's a weird feeling. But it is what it is; I've been out of touch.  Let's move to today's story. One night last week, Oye knocked on my door because she had been sent to get something called a “ruler”.  Oye is the amazing maid, who really has been my right hand person. She's been helping me relearn the art of crossing Lagos streets, perfecting my haggli