Once upon a JJC

Hiiiiii, 

It's me again, the reluctant Lagosian😊. No, this isn't a “Diary of a New Lagos Wife” entry. Just me, reminiscing

In the spirit of throwback, the JJC has clocked one year in a town she labelled strange. A year in and she can hardly wait to get out. My first time in Lagos wasn't exactly as dramatic as I'd expected it to be. I mean, all my life, I've stayed in the north only visiting some regions which did not cover the western side region. It also didn't help that I didn't exactly have the right notion of Lagos. It was always portrayed in the negative light; "shine your eyes o", "hide your phone o", "don't ask questions, don't ever give yourself away as a JJC". Phew, the cautions were (and still) many. Don't do this, don't do that. Have I mentioned the traffic? Geez, but I won't  go there. It's old news. 

Considering how I'd come from a relatively sane and serene environment, I kept wondering how I'd cope in this jungle. This no man's land. And then one day, it hit me. When the children of Israel left Egypt for the promised land, what was their instruction? Possess it. So I told myself to possess the land and speak into it. Lagos will not give me trouble, I will enjoy myself here and to the fullest. I realized that a whole lot of patience and guidance from the Holy Spirit was gonna be needed to live here in peace and soundness of mind. And gisting about my experiences definitely does help. 

So back to my first visit. It'd been after my dad's burial, I needed to not go to work immediately. So I detoured to Ajah where I hid my face from the world for a while. That first trip was quite uneventful, seeing as I practically went nowhere. But, I was finally in Lagos, that was what counted. . 

As it were, fate had its own plans too and so it was that I landed here, the land of the “buzzites” (busy bees), vampires, night crawlers and face changers. Nah, just messing with you 😀 

And that's that, ciao. 
My diary entries still continue here (Please tap on the link), that's where most of my Lagos living are journalled. 

Be safe, burbye...

Diary of a new Lagos Wife💍: The Job Hunter 🔫 🏹

Dear diary,

Boy, do I have a lot to say, especially as it relates to these elections. But let's start with the most pressing of them all (as it relates to me of course), job hunt!!!

I've gradually come to the realisation that job hunting in Lagos, is an etirely different ball game. I'm afraid, I won't be going into specifics but believe me, it is. 

I remember while back in Abuja, sitting in my cozy office, chatting with a Lagosian friend about the scarcity of jobs in Lagos and I'm wondering how that could be when job vacancy ads were swimming with them? Let's just say, I understand better now. Then, I simply couldn't. 

When I look back, I laugh because I now understand what his response, “you won't understand” meant. I so understand that nine times out of  ten job ads one may come across are fraudulent. Yes, Lagos is indeed a prowling jungle cat which reminds me of a poem I once wrote about it👇🏼

I also now understand to an extent how hunters feel when they go to the bush and come back empty handed (infact, I'm now understanding a number of things, no thanks to Lagos). It's not a nice feeling. It's a demoralising one. But do they quit and decide to pack up their tools and fold their arms? No. The very next day or week or month or whenever, they cock their guns and head back into the bush.

So what have hunters and bush got to do with me you may ask? If you don't know by now, you probably didn't read this post from the beginning. Do so now? 😁

Well, I'll still answer, a lot. Cos you see, I'm now a hunter. With Lagos, the jungle. I'm tempted to claim to be king of the jungle, but nah, I leave that for the agberos*.

And so, with all the little idiosyncrasies I've noticed about the city so far, I think it's time to state that there is Nigeria and then, there is Nigeria (Lagos). 

Meanwhile, I came across a facebook post, that any neighborhood built in the midst of fuel stations should just say odaaro** to constant electricity and ekaabo*** to epileptic power supply. Ain't that the truth? Honestly, I pondered on this submission and I think he's right. Because:

1. This is Lagos. If this had been said about an Abuja neighborhood, nah, wouldn't believe it. But here in Lagos, anything (if not all things) is possible. 
2. I live in such a neighborhood and what he claimed, I'm experiencing. So yeah, I believe that. 

Next time and up next, the Lagos driver travails.
Cheers... 

P. S
*Touts 
**Goodbye 
***Welcome

Diary of a new Lagos Wife💍:The wedding party 🎊

Dear Diary,

Today I attended my first ever Lagos party  aka wedding aka owanbe *cues in Banky's “ain't no party like a Lagos party”*. I highly doubt my kind of party's what he was singing about, but still, “ain't no party like a Lagos party”. Hehe.

So, I'd attended with a certain mindset (the things I'd heard? Hmm) and I wasn't disappointed. What stood out for me most was the plethora of high class fashion(?) on display. *shrugs shoulders* I'm no fashionista, so I can't tell what's high fashion or not, but what I mean by high class fashion in this context, is the variety of styles that were on display. Wait, is it high class fashion or high end fashion?*facepalm* This is beyond me. Bottom line, I liked what I saw c'est finis. Them sisi ekos (Lagos belles) sure do know how to dress up and turn up. 

At some point I began to feel like the odd one cos guess what, I'd tied iro and buba, young sisi like me. Lol.

I really dunno what's obtainable in the iro and buba game, whether it's strictly for mamas (that's the general consensus) or young 'uns like us can also participate. I hear friends say they can't wear them and yours truly was once in that boat until she saw the light in person of a young girl who rocked it. 

My take though on fashion in general's that, whatever rocks your frame and is comfy and is carried by your conscience, why not? As for me, I tilt towards the conservative and laid back spectrum. In all, it was a lovely fashion parade wedding with me making mental notes 📝 of styles to sew next, haha. I kept musing about how I finally get to witness the "Lagos turn up" folks shout about on social media.  If anything, Lagosians ain't playing.

Hubby though was of the opinion that I was yet to see anything, that that was a precursor of things that were to come (pls bear with my grammar😂). 

But outside of fashion, I couldn't tell much any difference between a Lagos wedding and that of others, like say, Abuja. I had a swell time though, regardless of having arrived the venue feeling tired and drowsy. Why? Seven letters, one word, go!









Traffic! 🚥

Peace...

Diary of a new Lagos Wife💍: Imagine Dragons

Dear diary, 

I have a confession to make, I'm a scaredy cat. Never knew how much of a scaredy cat I was until my relocation to Lagos. Lagos, the monster that devours the hapless unsuspecting victim (at least in my head). I've been asked to not see it in that light, na God go help person. It brought out all my fears, both real and imagined and it turns out that the latter's the worse.

So, hubby practically pushed me out of the nest today. I'd been assigned this mission for a long time; “go to Egbeda” but I've been terrified of doing that on my own. Emphasis on “on my own”. At least I've passed through several times heavily "guarded", lol. Fear sha, smh. For those that know the distance between Igando and Egbeda, it's not such a big deal. I mean, I only get to enter one bus. This has made me remember my first individual trip at night to Ikotun *shudders*, another time. 

So I did and mission was successful until my return journey where instead of going to Igando, oga bus driver took me to Ikotun. Didn't notice in time because I was busy composing this. 

Well, to God be the glory, none of my imagined fears came to pass like missing a bus stop which technically (wasn't my fault) happened or being told that my English is too much or the bus leaving me because I'm walking too slowly (which nearly happened) or one conductor insulting me on top of my change because, reminder.

Ah Lagos, it's well. 

Shout out to hubby for pulling off a typical mother hen or is it eagle routine on me, you do well 😏. Lagos sha, it's not for me. I know this.

Peace...
Trivia: today's entry subject matter's a band name. Yup. I love their song “Believer”, check it out. 

Diary of a new Lagos Wife💍

Me coming outta my hiatus

Still me wondering if anyone's here

Oh bloggy, bloggy, bloggy, I've missed you so.

Hi there guys, howdy? This has been a long time coming but only until yesterday, courtesy of a comment on a post concerning my Lagos travails joys which I'd shared on facebook, have I decided to run with it. This title/series is courtesy of that and God willing, I shall be reposting the said post here. It'll be our first journal entry 😁. Timely, if you ask me cos I've encountered one time too many, stuff I'd rather not. In this Lagos.

I'm sure it's no longer news what brought yours truly down west right? If it is, I'm sorry and owe you guys a major throw/flash back. Click here to get the gist of how the Northern belle traded the North for West, epic.

So encountering Lagos was a huge culture shock for me all in all. Gist for another day seeing as this is us officially launching the “Diary of a new Lagos Wife💍” series. Sit back, put your feet up and enjoy the journey. Seeing Lagos through the eyes of a newbie. 

Ekaabo. 

Peace