Can I pass? No way!

Driving is an art wherever you go; you have to understand the contours and temperament of any city to be able to adjust properly to their driving style. I have always known that in order to be able to drive in Lagos one has to have the right balance of daredevil and clinically deranged. Road etiquette is considered a hindrance to proper driving and anything that shares the road is seen as a target.

Being driven in Lagos even takes time to get used to but in time you stop ducking behind the seat and covering your eyes with your hands whenever you see an okada whizzing through spaces that would make you believe that they were two-dimensional.

I have to comment on the fact that there have been some improvements made on the roads in Lagos, there have even been traffic lights installed. The craziness of the Lagos driver has been spoken about countless times and at this point one should have adopted the "if you can't beat them, join them" mentality.

The most spectacular thing about the roads is exactly who or what one has to contend with:

Things with wheels: one would expect to have to deal with other cars, some buses and maybe even a tanker or two but in Lagos you have to take into consideration that everything with wheels believes it has a place on the road. Of course you have the okada, which now has a 2.0 model with a backseat and aluminium casing known as the "keke Maruwa." There are people with wheelbarrows/ carts transporting everything from gallons of water to an improvised pharmacy (tip: the heat does not bode well for the condoms so... take heed). These are not difficult to deal with; if they have wheels then they can wheel the hell out of my way!

Things without wheels: one would never expect to deal with these entities but they believe they have a place on the road as well and woe betide you if you tell them different. There are dogs, chickens, rams, horses, markets, and of course people. Many, many people, people having conversations, people fighting, people washing your windshield without your permission, people selling things and even people having a shower (I've always wanted to shout "hey! You haven't washed behind your ears"). One has to make provisions for these or you will have to deal with getting blood off your car on a daily basis.

I have to actually give credit to the LASTMA officials who try to keep order on the street with their series of roadside calisthenics. They are fully equipped with a chord on their shoulder and a baton to beat people into submission or a stupor (whichever comes first).

Oh well...

Xo, Nola