Sometime in 2017, late morning glow, somewhere between 11 am and 12pm, I pulled up around Adeniyi Jones, Ikeja, for one of those lowkey, high-potential meetups that held the promise of bigger plays.
Aunty Dolapo Otegbayi of Peak Milk had linked me up with someone. It wasn’t just about the handshake but an intro laced with mutual respect, silent calculations and unspoken possibilities. The agenda? See how we could trade value, stir waters, and maybe run a few bold shows together that could wake the streets.
At 9 am, I ponddered on my balcony.
‘Oh, its just about 45 minutes’ drive away from my Okota home’,.
Then I remembered the Oshodi traffic. That alone could scoop an hour.
Ooops.
I started thinking of different options of bypassing Oshodi.
I could drive into Ajao Estate, into 7 & 8 junction, and through the Airport toll gate, but that might be a trap for me. I might have been declared wanted at that toll gate. Two months earlier, I distracted the toll collector and scaled through the barricade without paying. The poor guy booked me and threatened to get me apprehended if I ever use that route again. I couldn’t ignore that threat. A N5000 fine was too much for me.
Going through Ikorodu Road becomes the next option. That means I had to drive through Cele bus stop, Ijesha, Itire and Lawanson in Surulere area to emerge at Ojuelegba, then link to Ikorodu road and drive straight to Maryland; and then turn in to Ikeja. Sigh. That’s too long.
Or what if I take Laspotech – Iyana-Isolo – Daleko Market route, burst out at Mushin and link to Cappa area? That seems good enough. So I jumped into my Army-green Toyota car and zoomed off.
At Ago Palace Way Junction, I changed my mind because the Ilasamaja route that will lead me to Iyana-Isolo was totally blocked. So I faced the opposite direction and drove straight to Cele to link Oshodi-Apapa express way.
Now on the highway, I took the service lane from Cele, through Ilasamaja, Iyana Isolo to Toyota, then turned left around DHL and over the bridge. Now, I was on the other side of the Oshodi traffic and I smiled impishly to celebrate my achievement, pitied those that were helplessly stranded in the traffic, and how the traffic hawkers are ‘cashing out’.
I drove on.
Just before I hit somewhere opposite the Army Resettlement Center, I turned left into core Oshodi metro and left the traffic behind me. With few turnings and twisting, I was at Bolade-Oshodi; and from there, I joined the Ikeja-Agege expressway and zoomed off.
Whoops! Eko.
I drove straight down towards Ikeja under bridge, and shortly after, turned right, then drove through the Computer Village, Awolowo Bridge, and faced Oba Akran. A few minutes later, I turned right and was on Adeniyi Jones.
Then, a rain had started falling heavily and traffic struck.
At ‘long’ last, I got to my ddestination with a huge sigh of relief.
Smooth talks. Sealed deals. Document exchanges. Laughter. Handshakes. Two hours later, I was out to face again the jungle called Lagos. My next destination was Centrespread in Anthony.
Through Oba Akran, I drove straight into Mobolaji Banks Anthony Way, facing Maryland. Then there was this loooong traffic spreading from the Police Barracks/Customs office through Sheraton Hotels area, I managed to crawl to Isacc John junction, turned in and connected to Adekunle Fajuyi Road in Ikeja GRA.
The traffic there was worse and the rain beat harder. I pushed further to come out in front of the Army Barracks in Maryland, then went right in again through Onigbongbo Market area. Five minutes later, I’d joined Ikorodu Road, driving towards Anthony Bus stop.
To get to Centrespread (around Corona School) from my location, you still have to turn in near this GTBank at Town Planning Way in Ilupeju, then link up with Oshodi traffic facing Gbagada/Oworonsoki, then turn right again by GreenSprings Schools, then left into the private estate where my destination was.
It was a tiring journey, and I was physically drenched and fatigued, having spent such long hours in ‘competitive’ Lagos driving.
I had my informal meetings, and was there till about 6.30pm.
At last, I was ready to move and my route was through Ikorodu road to Ojuelegba, still trying to avoid Oshodi. The plan was to link Cele Flyover through Ojuelegba-Lawanson-Itire route, but at Obanikoro (along Ikorodu Road), a terrible traffic struck and I wished I’d taken Oshodi route. I was so bored and apathetic that I missed my turn at Jibowu and headed straight to Yaba.
At Yaba, turning into Tejuosjo market area took me about 30 minutes, and from Tejuosho to Ojuelegba took another 30 minutes. I was sleeping behind the wheels but the sight of a traffic robber that was apprehended and pulped by Lagosians kept me awake. I pushed my phone under the seat.
I needed a stimulant. The Coke or the Coco.
At last, I passed the Ojuelegba test, moved on to Lawanson and inched home, hitting traffic here and there, bad roads eating the grips of my tyre, an inch at a time.
I got home at last, but alas, someone had parked a car in front of my gate. My frustration soared to the high heavens. There was this wine bar near my house whose customers were adept in the art of nuisance. After few emotional outbursts and ‘vision recasting’ with Abddulahi, my security man, the car owner was fished out, drunk, mumbling and gibbering sheepishly.
I ignored his inaudible apologies.
I drove in and parked, breathing hard. I took a bottled water and had a long sip, then picked my diary and wrote a word by Marcus Aurelius:
‘The art of living is more of wrestling than dancing’. Especially in Lagos.
#EKO!
