My city, My Lagos

The Art of Living – Ruka readers, sincere apologies.,

Several people have reminded me that I haven’t web logged since November. Hmm. As if I needed reminding!

Well, the thing is…I’ve been zapped by Lagos living. I am not even sure that the word ‘zap’ is in the world’s lexicon, but zap is the only way that I think could describe how I began to feel physically after nine months of being in Lagos.

The thing is, I have carried on as if I was in Accra, London, or any other ‘normal’ city of this Planet Earth. The timetable and activity list remained much the same: work (including international travel), church stewardship, MBA, gym, family time and me-time. No change management plan, here.

All well and good, but this is Lagos.
The 5am latest rise. The jump into the car to the gym. The sighing on the way to the gym as a 30 min journey becomes a journey of one and half hours. The rush to thump on the treadmill for 40 minutes. The mad rush to get into the showers and freshen up for work in amidst 20/30 odd other women. The determination to get to work on time. And the determination to have 10 minutes of downtime and me-time riding to the office.

Then the office...
The demands of the deliverables. What is outstanding? Hmm. Ok, must resolve that today. The demands of the boss and bosses. The demands of the client. The demands of office business management and adminstration. The demands of….

The ride of the client site. On a good day 40 minutes. On a bad day two hours. Upon arrival at the client site the meeting that was scheduled for 2pm has now been cancelled. No one thought to call to notify. I drive back to base – praying that there won’t be traffic on the way.

Today’s a great day and there’s no traffic. Back at base. I remember that I haven’t eaten breakfast, let alone lunch. I send the driver out – literally down the road – 10 minutes at most – to buy lunch. He gets caught up in traffic. He returns at 4pm. I eat breakfast, lunch and dinner at one meal.

I continue work. At 7.30pm I figure I should probably go home now. Traffic would have died down. It has – somewhat. Catch up with emails in the car. Make a few calls to friends. Read a bit in the car. I get home at 9.25pm.

There’s a power outage. There’s no fuel for the generator. Driver has to go and buy fuel. I wait for 30 minutes in candlelight (hmm, sounds romantic, no? Not when you are in your suit, sweating. Sorry, perspiring).

Driver returns. Generator fuelled and there’s power. I undress and put on my slacks and the TV. Half an hour of peace. Call my Mum (who thinks, by the way, that I am still in Accra and never came to Lagos because she probably saw more of me per annum whilst I was in Accra).

Laptop comes out. Reading for MBA comes out. Work reading comes out. The generator is pounding in my head. Never mind, this is Lagos. Grin and bear it.

It is a quarter past midnight. I must sleep. The generator is pounding in my head

Then church…
The weekly reporting. The membership database management. The people management. The meetings.

Then the MBA
“Ruka, is there anything I can help you with? You haven’t logged on for a couple of weeks now.” Need I say more. I am reading, for goodness sakes! Reading to catch up on what I am supposed to be doing so that when I do log on I can sound somehow comprehensible....!

Dearly beloved readers: do you empathise a bit?

Pretty please, do. Handsome please, do!

Here’s to the New Year 2009! A year of possibilities and great, uncommon testimonies!