It had been raining all day on the mainland. Not the kind of rain that cooled the air, wet the grass and lifted everyone’s spirits after days of relentless sunshine, but the kind of rain that fell on a day that was already wet, fell and fell and fell for hours with no signs of stopping, rain that raised floods everywhere until people had to wade in waist deep water. Until shoes were wet and limbs were cold, and everyone was miserable.
I had been on the mainland all day, and it hadn’t been easy, I was interviewing three people for a feature we were doing on young, successful women in Lagos, and contrary to what I’d assumed, all young successful people did not work on the Island. I had started my day at 7 am by driving to Apapa, then Ilupeju and then Ikeja. Now it was almost 6.pm and I was only just leaving my final interview at Ikeja. Because of the rain, there was traffic everywhere. I frowned as another Okada, as the commercial motorcycles were popularly called, drove past my car causing a spray of brown muddy water to splash on my windows. I hissed and consoled myself with the fact that the interviews had been good…. Read more