Wasi has something to share

it's going on for 3pm. I have about 9 more hours on nigerian soil, to bask and bake and be whoever it is when i'm out here - some kind of hybrid of my usual self, overlaid with the slightly more boisterous, bolshier bit of me that, along with an undercurrent of custom, seems to be released a little more when i speak yoruba and hang out with *nigerian* nigerians. the day has been spent so far packing and repacking, my mum's prediction this morning that we might not use up all our baggage allowance (2 x 23kg each…) proved just a little too optimistic after all. i'm just hoping there's no bother at customs, what with all the food and other stuff that we're bringing back. buying and selling is in my mum's blood - my grandma was a trader, and my mum has been doing it since she was small.  the entrepreneurial spirit seems to have resolutely skipped me though - perhaps that's my own rebellion, my disregard for commerce and a tidy profit margin, no matter how m...

at 8.06 this morning, i was woken up for a visitor - turns out the tailor had arrived with all my new clothes.  everything fit, and looked like i described it, which is pretty awesome.  personal tailoring is kind of cool when it all goes right. in the living room, a hair-dresser (who'd arrived at something like 7.30) was doing my mum's hair.  next door, the school kids were singing along with their hugely loud drumming.  i felt like maybe i was starting my day a little late. just one more sleep until we leave, and already i've started thinking about work… i charged my phone yesterday, and must the network must have switched itself back on - a flood of work e-mails had got through, a few about a presentation i'm doing at a conference in glasgow in about 10 days.  the thought of it makes me feel a little sick, so i've managed for the most part not to think about while i've been away.  I really wish I'd ignored those notifications… Last night was my most epic ...

got home last night after a 2½ hour journey from a market, weirdly exhausted, so this one's a day late (not that it makes any difference, given i won't be posting them until i get back anyway). so, yesterday was one of my favourite days - it involved a trip to yaba market with my cousin, and with 4 hours on the road, that included a lot of road-side sight-seeing. highlights included: - wheelbarrows piled high with melons, yam, and sugarcane - a number of cars (for some reason, i noted particularly some type of peugeot and a nissan sunny bluebird, which was once our family car) stuffed to the windows in the backseat and the boot with massive bunches of green bananas - amazing feats of balancing - people in the marketplaces carrying all sorts on their heads, often without the needs for hands to steady them.  masses of stuff - huge baskets of peppers and tomatoes, big 'ghana-must-go's (the big shopping bags) full of only god knows what, a row of cushions (seriou...

I took three of my favourite pictures today - the first two were of each of the little boys, Uthman & Sultan, who rent the house next door to my grandma's.  Our family owns the house, which seems to be a common thing - for houses/bungalows to be built as semi-detached, as it were, and then for one of those to be rented out, while the family uses the other one.  I was sat outside, using the last of the daylight to type example questions, when Sultan, the littlest (about 2), walked past, and me and my cousin (another one) noticed that he seemed to be wearing make-up.  His aunt had made him and his little brother up - I always find it quite hilarious how older siblings and parents do that to little boys, make them up and dress them in girls' clothes, but would probably not think it so cute if he turned up dressed like that in about 15 years' time (though perhaps I underestimate them).  Uthman, the older brother (about 7 or 8) approached us with his hands over his f...

i had intended to write about family today - how amazing it is to be close to people i so rarely get to see and seldom interact with when i'm not here, and that wonder of how, with certain family members, there will always be that connection, no matter how long or far apart you are. but… it's 10.20pm, and my mum and aunt aren't back from town yet.  and you're probably thinking, well, hell, they're not children, and and 10.20 at night isn't exactly late.  but that's in london time.  or maybe even in nigeria time, if you are from round here, and so are familiar with the place (i guess just as this time of night in south london feels fine to me, while i know many people not from there who are terrified at the mere thought of being out on our mean streets after sundown - all those hooded youths, with their patois…).  but the thing is, as much is this may feel like home in some ways, i'm not from round here - i don't know the area that well, i don'...

(*snappy title, i know!) so. i just chatted to a friend about what i wrote about last night .  and about the new years' resolutions i made in january - whether i'd actually stuck to them or not.  we concluded that i had managed some (definitely done more photography and more writing, spent more time with friends, and learnt some stuff), a few i've sort of worked on (i'm a bit better at rationalising and actually believing my rationalising of my negative self-speak. a bit.), and some have just been a total fail (getting more sleep...going out less...erm, yeah, right). so, following on from my ground-breaking realisation that i actually need to take some action to stop this pretty blatantly destructive pattern of self-imposed sleep depravation, and all of the emotional issues that seem to be, if not resultant, at least somehow related to it, we came up with a bit of an action plan - three specific goals that i'll be putting into practice starting from tonight. unf...

i think the fact that the highlight of today (apart from watching 'away we go', finally - absolutely loved it/fell in love with the leads - jessica, if you didn't like this movie, please never tell me!) was washing clothes demonstrates quite easily the non-event that it was.  which wasn't a bad thing - i'm just not used to a holiday where i actually get time to sit around not really doing anything… the clothes washing was by hand.  so i'm squatted in the bathroom, thrashing at underwear, thinking i'm hard core as, even as my arms, hands and thighs all start to ache after about ten minutes, while outside, a family friend beats dirty bedsheets, skirt suits, and iro & bubo into spotless submission. the weather decided this evening that it hadn't been quite hot enough yet, and i'm sat writing this, sans fan (sans power), in a pool of sweat quite deep enough to swim in.  i think it's melted my brain, so perhaps it's time to call it a night. ...

day started well - best sleep since i've been here (am i obsessed with sleep?) - perhaps linked to the fact that, though i slept on a mat on the floor, it was in a room on my own, that didn't depend on a fan to not be stiflingly hot.  i recommend these conditions, with a comfortable bed seemingly an optional extra. very long car journey + hottest day since i've arrived = queasy lack of appreciation of the passing scenery.  which was a shame, as there was a fair bit to observe - houses on stilts, with access via wooden pathways, reminding me of crazy gym at school; hills covered in a network of troughs, goats lined up around each, waiting to be sold; the market places with their inescapable smell of freshly peeled oranges, the sight of tomatoes stacked in formation, and the sounds - bus drivers picking up passengers, calling out their destinations ('oshodi, oshodi, oshodi, o' 'mile 12' 'ketu'), hawkers offering 'gala', 'pure water', an...

A few years before he died, my dad bought some land in nigeria, in an area called alagbado - a few hours' drive north of ikorodu, where my mum's family is based.  i don't know why he chose this area, not somewhere closer to the city, or at least closer to where his family is here.  but he did.  he intended to build a home for us out here, but wasn't able to before he died 6½ years ago.  one thing i learnt, growing up first generation in london, with parents with both feet still firmly planted in nigeria - they always want to go back home, but doing it remotely takes an age, especially as other things take over. so along with other things, my mum inherited my dad's dream, to build a family house out here for all of us - partly for us to have somewhere of our own to stay when we visit, but partly in that eternal hope that one day at least one of us (me and my siblings) will want to move 'back home'. today i came to the house for the first time in almost 6 ...

today has been the epitome of total chilled-out-ness.  which was nice - for me, given i had nothing really to achieve - not so great for people trying to be productive. it was also jumaat prayer. which was also good. but now it's gone 11pm, and there's still a plumber in our house.  whilst it's nice that he's sorting out the taps, so that we don't have to keep carrying water from one room to another, i would just rather he goes home, and comes back another day to finish.  he's been here at least 5 hours. which is just ridiculous.  if i were him, i would no longer be doing my best work.  i get the impression he's feeling the same way. the day started before 7 am. again. with lots of waking up in the night. again.  at one point, i found myself just sat up in bed, staring at the full moon.  and also wishing the rooster around our way would learn when dawn is, and stick to crowing then.  it's going to be weird if this whole getting up early busines...

i woke up scowling this morning, and have only just about stopped (it's about midday now). my bad mood persists, though. i woke up before 7am - or rather, was woken up by my mum who decided we needed to get up and clean (first reason for the day's mood, perhaps?).  being made to get up and clean the house at 7am when i'm supposedly on holiday, after a third night of little sleep (once again, combination of the heat, and sharing a bed with my mum). second reason for foul mood - the other day, my uncle came home with these truly horrible mouse traps - they are basically mini mats of glue - the mice are attracted on to them by some scent thing, and then stick to it.  they're the most horrendous things you can imagine - i walked into the living room this morning to find two mice, stuck and struggling to get off.  and that's it - they'll just stay and struggle there until they starve to death, or give themselves a heart attack from pulling, or just curl up and gi...

I left the house today, for the first time since I arrived.  A stone mason from Ibadan came down to talk business with my Mum - she's expanding the school she's built here, building on new plots of land not far from the original school. Driving in Nigeria is… a consummate skill (is that a tautology?).  There is no room for timidity or poor technique, because if you display either, there is a great possibility you will die.  I have much respect for anyone that commandeers a vehicle on the roads of Lagos - and cannot fathom people who seem perfectly happy to put their lives into the hands of okada (the small motorcycles that act as taxis) which flit in and out of other traffic, often with the bags carried by the passengers brushing the trucks, buses and cars that they zoom between.  And yet, perhaps because of the difficulty of manoeuvring the roads (at least, in the areas in and around Ikorodu, where my Mum's family all live), from what I can see at least, there seems...

So, while i was away in nigeria, i vaguely decided to keep a sort of record of my time there. it's not a proper blog, definitely not a travel-log, and at times reads like a 12 year old's diary - ah well. i plan to post a new entry each day. and once i get sorted, there'll be photos. - - - - - Since getting home, I have learnt to value water and respect heat to the proper extent, I have slept fitfully, 3 of us to a bed, full grown and learnt that sleep really can be an enjoyable alternative wakefulness I have become relaxed in dressing, learnt the ridiculousness of vests and socks, the superfluousness of sleeves, tights have been replaced by a silky sheen of perspiration, and I have become used to feeling its trickle down my temple, or edging over a nostril I befriended the goat in our compound, untied it so it could roam and nose and butt in the hour before I saw its throat cut, and family and hired cooks cut and cleaned it, preparing the Eid feast I have conside...