The Easy Life

Hey, Lagosians (and other residents of fairly violent settlements), do you know you can live the easy life? Do you know you can wake to the easy life and sleep to same? Is that even a possibility in your mind? Do you even know what the easy life is?

What is the easy life?

One cannot quite describe the easy life (as it is with the definition of most terminologies), but one can safely say that when you live the easy life, you know it.

Living in the north has broadened my mind and shown me different ways to live the easy life. I mean, just this night I had a comfortable conversation with a little boy covered in calamine lotion because of his chicken pox, and as he held on to my hand with both of his chicken pox arms, threatening to give me chicken pox (which I have never had, by the way), I laughed and clucked like a chicken and threatened to kidnap him and take him to my house in Lagos where I’ll feed him only sachet water.

The easy life is good. And weird.

Take for example, this night. Three of my friends and I (4 of us) went out to buy chicken (because school is over and chicken is appropriate for the occasion). When we were done, the four of us stood by the side of the road, waiting for the road to be clear of cars so we’d cross to the other side where we’ll take a Napep back to school. Before we could cross, a Napep stopped by us and asked us where we were going.

We told him not to worry because;

  1. He was not going our way
  2. He already had a passenger in his Napep (and a Napep sits only 4 people – generally)

He shook his head and told us not to worry, he’ll take us to school. One of my friends said, ‘Law School is the opposite direction.’ He said ‘I know. I’ll turn’.

Then I said in sarcastic surprise, ‘We’re four. There’s someone inside already’

Suddenly, the passenger-MAN inside the Napep looked up at us and said, ‘Oh, don’t worry. I’ll get down. You can go in’

All the bells in my Lagos mind were ringing; SCAM! SCAM! KIDNAPPERS! JAZZ! CAUTION!

But he got down from the Napep and we all entered. No one disappeared. The driver did not swerve into Sambisa forest and have us killed. We were not hypnotized. We are fine!

I really had to shout after the man as he trekked to his destination: ‘God bless you sir! You’re a kind man!

And I really just had to ask the driver for his name: ‘BBJ’, he said in the coolest northern accent, ‘What’s your own name?’


The easy life is not difficult at all in Yola!

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