Independence as a Young Nigerian (Part 4)
“With freedom comes responsibility”
Whoever came up with that quote was definitely not joking. In the little time since you moved into your apartment, your eyes have seen and your ears have heard.
When you had fantasies about getting your space and living alone, you did not factor in the fact that Lagos is a very crazy place. That church you sighted on your first day was even the least of your grudges with your new environment. The incessant vigils with speakers loud enough for rock concerts kept you awake most of the time and when EKEDC decide to be bastards, the loud generators take over followed by those tiny terrorists called mosquitoes. There is no insecticide brand you haven’t tried at this point and yet they still find ways to torture you over the night.
Your other miscalculation was the sort of individuals you would come to know as your co-tenants. From the mother of three annoying kids that keep screaming and littering the compound and her drunk of a husband who steals what little she makes from her stall in front of the house and beats her while at it to the aspiring musician whose antics with women and marijuana have you constantly on your toes every time you leave your apartment and not to forget, the nuisance of a landlord who has made it his full time job to be up in everyone’s business. You found it very difficult to have friends over because of your landlord’s constant nose poking. Being a retired civil servant meant he had nothing but free time to snoop around and be a pain in the ass.
There is always some kind of trouble everyday in that building. Just last week, you had to pull out your ID card from your bag in fear as members of the police force questioned you as you walked into the building (you can guess who they were looking for).
Back to your own problems: Your parents are still salty and while you tried to placate them by going to see them on weekends, you could feel the tension. Your mum has resigned to fate on your matter and your dad is still giving you the cold shoulders (who’s the baby now?).
Your plans to get some appliances for your apartment had to be postponed. The recent crypto bear market wiped almost 90% of your savings (the Ls keep on coming) and it would be risky to splurge on anything not critical to your survival.
Getting (good) food has also been tough. Your stomach violently disagrees with the food from your neighbourhood and ordering food every time has proved to be unwise financially.
The only good thing going on for you is your health insurance plan covered by your job (how ironic) and you’ve become a recognisable face at the hospital due to the unsanitary food and those tiny terrorists.
Even at work, your line manager’s marital problems keep affecting her mood and most of the time, you are at the receiving end of her tantrums. The transport costs you figured you’d save by getting an apartment turned out to be wishful thinking. Fuel scarcity hit the country and the costs doubled. The weapons fashioned against you are prospering and there is no end in sight.
As you lay on your bed in the dark, you begin to question the decisions that got you here.
