I
have lived in Abuja for six years. The city is a virus growing and
taking over the cells of memory in your head, so that after a few years,
you begin to act like you were born here. My viral attack is complete--
I struggle to remember my life before this. Sometimes one can benefit
from the thoughts of an outsider. Pearl Osibu, a writer friend of mine,
is endlessly looking for reasons to elevate Lagos over Abuja. But I
prefer the written word to a shouting match. Find below some of her
thoughts on visiting (the more concrete parts of) Abuja.
- Elnathan John
I
go jogging/speed-walking with my younger sister, Debbie, every morning.
It is a delight. The roads are so wide – the pedestrian walk as wide as
some Lagos roads, and asphalted within an inch of their lives – make
you want to roller skate. Maybe this is the reason why there are so many
people out jogging In Lagos, you must be determined, and even then, you
would approach jogging with gritted teeth, especially if you live in
most parts of the mainland.
In Abuja, the day begins at least two hours earlier than it does in Lagos. The downside is, Abuja drivers are pampered. I see people take turns in so wide an arc they gulp huge swathes of road, ending up on the other side before re-aligning themselves. In Lagos, you learn road economy. The drivers also seem to have a problem with using their indicators. We screamed at several, as well as engaged in some mindreading: are you, or are you not turning?
Debbie issues a warning as we set out, “watch the manholes.” They are almost all open, mouths agape. I remember Metropole Columnist Elnathan John complaining about this, but from what Debbie says, it is not a government problem; it is a citizen problem. Obviously, the covers have been fitted – and stolen. I hear iron-workers are the culprits. Reminds me of when the U.J. Esuene Stadium Calabar hosted some of the matches during Nigeria ’99. The floodlights were fitted – and promptly stolen.
As we pass by a fellow jogger, I do the to-the-side solidarity clap that joggers do when they meet in Lagos to mean 'hey, I see you, I know it’s not easy, you are almost there.' What it does not mean is 'hey, I am looking for a rich balding lover, please give me your blackberry messenger pin or phone number,' or whatever meaning this man’s mind conjured as he ignored me. Debbie, however, tells me that I should not blame the man. It would appear that many young women take to the sidewalk for that very purpose here.
A lady jogs past us and I think that’s one of ‘em. She is slim slim. But I quickly berate myself; I am the person who always says that slim does not mean fit, and even skinny people need to work out and eat healthily.
I see a lady jogging with her Jalabiya, hijab and trainers . It is truly funny, I mean, I could have guessed what else would she jog in? Still. But then a man also jogs past in a kaftan and I wonder what gives? When I think I have seen it all, I see another jogger in a burqa – not niqab, mind. Well, it’s all terribly exotic to this Lagos girl.
Unless it’s an emergency, you will scarcely get a friend to meet and hang out during the week in Lagos-- people wait for the weekend to really get down and party hard. Not so Abuja. Everyday might very well be a weekend-- it’s the unhurried pace of the city, the sanity. Tuesday night is as good as Friday night.
– PEARL OSIBU
To be continued next week…
In Abuja, the day begins at least two hours earlier than it does in Lagos. The downside is, Abuja drivers are pampered. I see people take turns in so wide an arc they gulp huge swathes of road, ending up on the other side before re-aligning themselves. In Lagos, you learn road economy. The drivers also seem to have a problem with using their indicators. We screamed at several, as well as engaged in some mindreading: are you, or are you not turning?
Debbie issues a warning as we set out, “watch the manholes.” They are almost all open, mouths agape. I remember Metropole Columnist Elnathan John complaining about this, but from what Debbie says, it is not a government problem; it is a citizen problem. Obviously, the covers have been fitted – and stolen. I hear iron-workers are the culprits. Reminds me of when the U.J. Esuene Stadium Calabar hosted some of the matches during Nigeria ’99. The floodlights were fitted – and promptly stolen.
As we pass by a fellow jogger, I do the to-the-side solidarity clap that joggers do when they meet in Lagos to mean 'hey, I see you, I know it’s not easy, you are almost there.' What it does not mean is 'hey, I am looking for a rich balding lover, please give me your blackberry messenger pin or phone number,' or whatever meaning this man’s mind conjured as he ignored me. Debbie, however, tells me that I should not blame the man. It would appear that many young women take to the sidewalk for that very purpose here.
A lady jogs past us and I think that’s one of ‘em. She is slim slim. But I quickly berate myself; I am the person who always says that slim does not mean fit, and even skinny people need to work out and eat healthily.
I see a lady jogging with her Jalabiya, hijab and trainers . It is truly funny, I mean, I could have guessed what else would she jog in? Still. But then a man also jogs past in a kaftan and I wonder what gives? When I think I have seen it all, I see another jogger in a burqa – not niqab, mind. Well, it’s all terribly exotic to this Lagos girl.
Unless it’s an emergency, you will scarcely get a friend to meet and hang out during the week in Lagos-- people wait for the weekend to really get down and party hard. Not so Abuja. Everyday might very well be a weekend-- it’s the unhurried pace of the city, the sanity. Tuesday night is as good as Friday night.
– PEARL OSIBU
To be continued next week…
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