After close to a month of trying to settle into Lasgidi a few friends finally drew me out for a hangout. Initially, I was reluctant to go this being a Monday. It seemed like a sin to the goddess of work to be out on a Monday night. But alas, PHCN guided my decision as on getting home to discover that the quota for the day didn’t include light before 6 pm. So mind made up I left for the Palms to hook up with my people Monday night or not.
I have often heard about Lasgidi as the town that never sleeps. I never quite experienced it because…(well no point going into that history). So into Soul Lounge the first meeting point I went. Other than the usually over priced drinks the place wasn’t so bad. There was good music and there were people in work clothes. You could see that they made it there straight out of work. Someone said the usual story was that they were waiting for traffic to reduce. Apparently for Nigerians they were pretty patient because by around 10 pm when we were on our way to the next hangout location, they were on the dance floor boogying away to some oldies.
The highlight of the day was that we had a friend from my host country coming for a visit for the first time to our very own Naija. Since she was leaving the following day, she only had limited time to experience Nigeria. The magic word for the night was ‘Nkwobi’. A place was mentioned which I seem to forget the name primarily from the internal clock which was telling me for some reason that I was out too late. After a bit of debating and discussing (some of us were inclined to call it a day) the ‘ayes’ had it so off we left to the next stop.
Seated amongst old friends and new ones amidst plates of Nkwobi to the right and Isiewu to the left (which for reasons best known only to my ‘constitution’ I couldn’t partake of) I finally felt welcomed to Lasgidi. Indeed it never sleeps, except probably for the gateman at the estate gates of my new home who happened to have been drawn out of his dreamland by my knocking on the gate.
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Thursday, September 22, 2011
Safety & the Law
I have had to do some biking since my return and I have come to appreciate our concept of safety vs laws. The seat belt and helmet laws are meant to ensure you are conscious of your safety but it appears that my countrymen are keener on keeping the laws and avoiding LASTMA trouble than their personal safety. In the movies bikers would usually put on the helmet, pass one to their passenger have them put it on and strap up before embarking on the journey. The biking scenario is far removed from such perfect world scenarios.
The bike man parks in front of you, you tell him where you want to go as you are climbing on. You ask the price, do a bit of haggle if necessary and then he is off. Two minutes after you have taken off he might recall that you are supposed to wear a helmet. Or somewhere along the journey his compatriot bikers either through repeated horning or gestures get him to know that his passenger has no helmet. In mid ride you are given a helmet to put on. The straps of the helmet seemed to be designed not to go under your chin and it is usually already strapped up. I don’t know if you are expected to figure out the straps while in motion but I have never tried because I found it doesn’t help the balance much.
Then the helmets are something else. I don’t have a big head but some hardly stay on. Lots of the helmet seems improvised. One I wore recently had packing foam in it, which made it want to slip off. So I had to ride practically holding the helmet like it was some wig I was afraid was going to be blown off. All my notions of the helmet as a protective device was put to rest when I saw one lying on the road smashed. I don’t know if a car ran over it but it certainly didn’t look like it could really protect. So the helmet thing seems to be more about keeping the law than protecting ones self. Same way the seat belt in some taxis are more for show, with the driver usually using his hand to hold down the buckling end because the buckle had long since gone with the fourth owner of the taxi.
One thing for certain is that the helmets weren’t designed with the hairstyles our women carry considered at all. I have seen helmets sit on some female head like the Gele with the helmet being more at risk of harm than the carrier. Others just hold the helmet on their lap because there is just no way it can sit on their head. Given that the total landmass up there was far in excess of the circumference of the helmet. I have since taken to walking unless absolutely necessary. At least on my feet I am totally responsible for my own safety and it’s the most cost effective way to kip fit.
The bike man parks in front of you, you tell him where you want to go as you are climbing on. You ask the price, do a bit of haggle if necessary and then he is off. Two minutes after you have taken off he might recall that you are supposed to wear a helmet. Or somewhere along the journey his compatriot bikers either through repeated horning or gestures get him to know that his passenger has no helmet. In mid ride you are given a helmet to put on. The straps of the helmet seemed to be designed not to go under your chin and it is usually already strapped up. I don’t know if you are expected to figure out the straps while in motion but I have never tried because I found it doesn’t help the balance much.
Then the helmets are something else. I don’t have a big head but some hardly stay on. Lots of the helmet seems improvised. One I wore recently had packing foam in it, which made it want to slip off. So I had to ride practically holding the helmet like it was some wig I was afraid was going to be blown off. All my notions of the helmet as a protective device was put to rest when I saw one lying on the road smashed. I don’t know if a car ran over it but it certainly didn’t look like it could really protect. So the helmet thing seems to be more about keeping the law than protecting ones self. Same way the seat belt in some taxis are more for show, with the driver usually using his hand to hold down the buckling end because the buckle had long since gone with the fourth owner of the taxi.
One thing for certain is that the helmets weren’t designed with the hairstyles our women carry considered at all. I have seen helmets sit on some female head like the Gele with the helmet being more at risk of harm than the carrier. Others just hold the helmet on their lap because there is just no way it can sit on their head. Given that the total landmass up there was far in excess of the circumference of the helmet. I have since taken to walking unless absolutely necessary. At least on my feet I am totally responsible for my own safety and it’s the most cost effective way to kip fit.
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
with Patience and Goodluck anything can happen ...
If I had written this piece yesterday it would have been pretty negative. For some reason two nights ago PHCN figured the honeymoon was over and ensured I had light only when I wasn’t at home. I had come back psychologically prepared for a ‘bad’ power situation only for PHCN to really behave well for my first two weeks in town. All over, comparing notes I was getting good feedback. Someone called in on Wazobia FM complaining that he was about to pack out from his abode because PHCN was giving too much light. He was worried that things may soon start blowing up. It was a joke of course. My pessimism on the power situation was slowly thawing with all these positive feedback then I moved and PHCN hit!
Apparently, there may have been a fault because sometime around 1 A.M this morning power returned and had been on till about 6:30 P.M after a few hours of settling in, doing some quick ironing then they took away their stuff. I had all but given in to another long night of darkness and contemplating how soon that gen had to materialize when they brought the light some two hours later. If it continues at this rate then I will keep pushing the gen matter further and further till I can squeeze the last drop out of the available power.
Even with all the psychological reprogramming, it’s not easy to adapt to the light situation (which I daresay is better than I would have imagined) after three years of practically stable power. First year in the host country, I counted a total of 17 power outages the longest with duration of 4hrs at least in the area I lived in. This year there had been longer periods of 12hrs but only for a day while some major fault was being fixed. I could pick up the phone and call the customer care to inquire as to why I had no light and I was usually told exactly when it would return. Once I called because my neighbours had light and I didn’t and the customer care person asked if I could locate my pole and quote the number on it for speedy resolution. That was the level of efficiency I was coming from.
The power company operated as a business. The power company installed pre-paid meters as part of the revenue generation exercise ie for free and compulsorily. 24 hr customer service, I had a friend (a Nigerian) who would call up the power company at 12 midnight to ask about light (just for kicks) and someone was always at the other end of the line. I used to ask him if he could do that back in home country. I hope we will one day get to that level of efficiency. Hope is a Nigerian and with Patience and Goodluck anything can happen (I just couldn’t help the pun here).
Apparently, there may have been a fault because sometime around 1 A.M this morning power returned and had been on till about 6:30 P.M after a few hours of settling in, doing some quick ironing then they took away their stuff. I had all but given in to another long night of darkness and contemplating how soon that gen had to materialize when they brought the light some two hours later. If it continues at this rate then I will keep pushing the gen matter further and further till I can squeeze the last drop out of the available power.
Even with all the psychological reprogramming, it’s not easy to adapt to the light situation (which I daresay is better than I would have imagined) after three years of practically stable power. First year in the host country, I counted a total of 17 power outages the longest with duration of 4hrs at least in the area I lived in. This year there had been longer periods of 12hrs but only for a day while some major fault was being fixed. I could pick up the phone and call the customer care to inquire as to why I had no light and I was usually told exactly when it would return. Once I called because my neighbours had light and I didn’t and the customer care person asked if I could locate my pole and quote the number on it for speedy resolution. That was the level of efficiency I was coming from.
The power company operated as a business. The power company installed pre-paid meters as part of the revenue generation exercise ie for free and compulsorily. 24 hr customer service, I had a friend (a Nigerian) who would call up the power company at 12 midnight to ask about light (just for kicks) and someone was always at the other end of the line. I used to ask him if he could do that back in home country. I hope we will one day get to that level of efficiency. Hope is a Nigerian and with Patience and Goodluck anything can happen (I just couldn’t help the pun here).
Monday, September 12, 2011
Re-installation issues...
After a three year stint in a foreign country, I am now back to home country. My holiday is officially over and I now have to face simple realities like owning a generator and viewing every artisan with a high level of suspicion. It’s yet another new beginning for me except in an old country. It’s a new home (finding it is an entire story) and a somewhat new beginning (in Fashola’s Lagos).
So here I was feeling like a cowboy a few weeks back. I had heard all the stories about how tough it is to find accommodation in Lagos. I knew they were true but I put it down to mainly cash. I figured with what I was looking for and my budget it shouldn’t be a problem. It didn’t seem so at first. Within two weeks of my reconnaissance trip I had found a nice pad. The negotiations were practically done with so I took a trip back to Ghana feeling like a superstar. In just two weeks, I had found apartment in Lagos, paid for it and ready to plan moving the rest of my stuff back.
Then the gist started. First the landlord doesn’t cash the cheque, and can’t produce an agreement because their lawyer had an accident and was unavailable. Then the lawyer was available but for some reason, they still won’t cash the cheque but offered alternative accommodation at the same price. Then the landlord returns the cheque and then I am back to square one. I tried to analyze what the problem could have been; did they want more money or what? Well in such cases answers are not usually forth coming. I spoke to a friend who assured me it was normal. He once paid for a house and on meeting the landlord and the man discovering he was from a certain tribe the offer was withdrawn and his money returned. It was consoling to know the universe wasn’t against me. This meant another reconnaissance trip but this time I wasn’t going to move an inch until I was safely installed in an apartment.
Within a week of arrival another accommodation was being negotiated yet again about two houses from the previous one. This time, I wasn’t feeling like a cowboy. I was suspicious all the way. The assurances of the agent fell on deaf ears (he had congratulated me on the first one). Payment was made, the money was withdrawn then the keys to a main gate took a while to materialize. I had the keys to the inner sections of the house but none to get me into the compound. Two agents working together who didn’t quite trust each other were now playing Russian roulette with providing the key. The key finally arrived and I move in and it’s a whole new set of challenges. The holiday is indeed over!
So here I was feeling like a cowboy a few weeks back. I had heard all the stories about how tough it is to find accommodation in Lagos. I knew they were true but I put it down to mainly cash. I figured with what I was looking for and my budget it shouldn’t be a problem. It didn’t seem so at first. Within two weeks of my reconnaissance trip I had found a nice pad. The negotiations were practically done with so I took a trip back to Ghana feeling like a superstar. In just two weeks, I had found apartment in Lagos, paid for it and ready to plan moving the rest of my stuff back.
Then the gist started. First the landlord doesn’t cash the cheque, and can’t produce an agreement because their lawyer had an accident and was unavailable. Then the lawyer was available but for some reason, they still won’t cash the cheque but offered alternative accommodation at the same price. Then the landlord returns the cheque and then I am back to square one. I tried to analyze what the problem could have been; did they want more money or what? Well in such cases answers are not usually forth coming. I spoke to a friend who assured me it was normal. He once paid for a house and on meeting the landlord and the man discovering he was from a certain tribe the offer was withdrawn and his money returned. It was consoling to know the universe wasn’t against me. This meant another reconnaissance trip but this time I wasn’t going to move an inch until I was safely installed in an apartment.
Within a week of arrival another accommodation was being negotiated yet again about two houses from the previous one. This time, I wasn’t feeling like a cowboy. I was suspicious all the way. The assurances of the agent fell on deaf ears (he had congratulated me on the first one). Payment was made, the money was withdrawn then the keys to a main gate took a while to materialize. I had the keys to the inner sections of the house but none to get me into the compound. Two agents working together who didn’t quite trust each other were now playing Russian roulette with providing the key. The key finally arrived and I move in and it’s a whole new set of challenges. The holiday is indeed over!
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