Love It or Hate It, Nigeria’s Lagos Is Never Dull

A swarm of taxi drivers descends on passengers as they leave Murtala Mohammed International Airport and walk hesitantly beyond the crowd-control barriers. “Take me nuh, madam,” a driver implores one woman in the city’s pidgin English. Another man tugs at her tote bag. “Remember, it’s I drop you and you sister las’ time, eh?”

“Couldn’t have been me,” she replies in British-accented English, swinging her luggage out of reach of yet another pair of soliciting hands. “I’ve never been here before.”

Later, less than two miles from the airport in her previously reserved cab, the woman gets stuck in a typical “go slow,” where vehicles pack the streets and streams of walking salespeople hawk a kaleidoscope of wares. One trader tries to shove an ironing board through the passenger window of the car just as a teenage boy rolls up to the other side on a wooden cart and slaps his withered right leg against the glass.

“Help me, Auntie,” he pleads, using the common street address for women here. “God bless you, Auntie.”

The propositioning, the hustle, the acrid smell of sewage and belching of diesel fumes continue at intervals for the rest of the 12-mile journey to the woman’s hotel.

Welcome to Lagos. It’s a city most people either passionately love or virulently hate.

While many outsiders shudder at the thought of visiting this metropolis of 9 million people that sprawls across putrid lagoons, residents swear there’s no place in Nigeria they would rather live.

Though overwhelming in size and notorious for crime and corruption, Lagos is a bustling industrial hub, a melting pot of West Africa’s diverse peoples and the commercial epicenter of this nation of 108 million.

Military ruler Gen. Abdulsalami Abubakar is making good on his promise to rid Nigeria of its status as a pariah state. Many Lagos residents hope that increased trade, tourism and positive Western influences will help their city. “Lagos has this allure. It’s like a magnet,” said Dele Alake, editor of the local National Concord newspaper. “It’s cosmopolitan. It’s the hotbed of all activities. It’s the pivot around which Nigerian life revolves.”

Traders at the “moving market”--including women with pots gracefully balanced atop their heads and sleepy toddlers strapped to their backs--sell everything from slabs of raw or barbecued meat to shoes, toilet tissue, sunglasses, calculators, car seat covers and toys. In the scramble to survive, polio and burn victims compete to see whose disfigurement will elicit the most sympathy and cash.

Under bridges and overpasses, boys play soccer--some using tin can balls--while women in patterned wrap skirts and head scarves grill plantains and corn. Elderly men wearing caftans and skullcaps sit cross-legged on mats, playing cards, praying, musing.

Col. Mohammed Buba Marwa, the business-savvy military administrator of the three islands and mainland territory that make up Lagos state, is repairing roads, tackling the housing crunch and cracking down on crime.

Some expatriates acknowledge being taken with a city they once feared.

“I didn’t want to come here and tried to convince my husband not to come,” said Sharon Isaac, an American whose spouse’s oil industry job brought the couple to Lagos in May 1997. “I thought we would be murdered as soon as we stepped off the plane. Now, I love Lagos, and I feel bad that I had these ideas about Nigeria.”

Isaac and 12 other women recently compiled “Lagos Easy Access,” a guide to trendy galleries, nightclubs and fine dining.

“West Africans are very intimidating when you first meet them,” Isaac said. “Nigerians do nothing else but show their emotions, and this can be quite threatening. But [they] are not people to be afraid of. . . . You really will find some nice people here.”

Fortune seekers also flock to Lagos from neighboring nations, including Ghana, Benin and Niger. “For these people, coming to Lagos is like going to London or to New York,” said Femi John Olowoyo, 33, a sales assistant at an eclectic art store.

A mechanic’s apprenticeship brought taxi driver Joel Melvo from Benin 12 years ago. His training eventually led him from under the hood to behind the wheel.

“In Lagos, you can get a job quickly,” said Melvo, 25. “I always visit my home, but I will continue to live here.”