When it's dark out

link

‎Some nights you just want to lie down on your couch and watch TV. I could really use this because I had a very hectic day at work. My apartment was at the top. You could have a wonderful view of the city; the tall buildings, the street lights, the streets which got jam-packed most of the time due to traffic which mandated people who went to work to wake up very early in the morning so as to meet up.
‎
‎In the middle of the movie I was watching, the light went off. The neighbours began to sigh, some hissed, while some began to rain insults to the people in charge of electricity—NEPA. That's Lagos for you, where raining insults became a part of almost every conversations. I started hearing the opening doors from neighbours around. I decided to come out as well. By the time I stepped out almost half of the neighbours were already at the courtyard.
‎
‎“You guys should get ready o! Very soon some people will start oppressing us with their generators,” Celestine—the self-appointed comedian of the compound—announced, which followed laughter from the neighbours.
‎
‎Not too long after, we heard the sound of a generator put on. Few moments later, other generators followed.
‎
‎“Didn’t I tell you guys?” Celestine said, feeling proud of himself.
‎
‎“Yes o, Prophet Celestine!” one of the neighbours replied while others laughed.
‎
‎He started to narrate a story of how he nearly made it into Nollywood which made some neighbours cluster around him to listen to his gist.
‎
‎“I was this close, this close,” he said as he demonstrated with the tip of his index finger and his thumb together while he closed his right eye. “If not that the director's cousin showed up at the last minute, it would have been me on that billboard near Third Mainland.”
‎
‎I took a few moments observing the neighbours outside. There were some of them that I even forgot I had as neighbours. Most of them were just engaged in one conversation or the other. It was one of those times people realized that in the midst of the city there was actually a community.
‎
‎At one corner was Mama Esther, who sold provisions downstairs. She had a plastic hand fan in her hand which she used to fan herself. One of her daughters— Chioma—sat beside her, scrolling through her phone despite the battery running down.
‎
‎I found an empty sit beside Chioma and sat on it.
‎
‎She took her eyes off her phone and turned towards me. “You came out too?” she said smiling as she looked back to her phone screen.
‎
‎“I just had to,” I replied. “The heat in my room feels Iike hell”
‎
‎She laughed softly, then looked at me again.
‎
‎“Do you ever think we've gotten used to this?”
‎
‎“To what?” I asked.
‎
‎“I mean the blackout. The noise here and there. Like, this is normal now?”
‎
‎“Well, maybe that's what makes us survive, you know,” I replied. “Getting used to it.”
‎
‎“Hmm...” she hummed as she nodded.
‎
‎We began to hear the sound of rain drops on the roof.
‎
‎“Rain o,” Mama Esther muttered, lifting her plastic bucket from the floor. “Let this not spoil my stock tomorrow.”
‎
‎Within minutes, the rain became serious. People began to rush for shelter—some made their ways to balconies, others to doorways—shouting and laughing. I remained there at the courtyard. It wasn't long before my shirt plastered to my skin.
‎
‎Chioma didn't run either. Instead, she just stood there and spread both her hands apart like the lady in the movie titanic when she was at the edge of the ship with Leonardo DiCaprio.
‎
‎“You’re not afraid of getting sick?” I asked.
‎
‎“If I can survive this country, I can survive a little rain,” she replied.
‎
‎I laughed.
‎
‎After a couple of minutes the rain seized. Celestine had returned to his room, so the compound was quieter now.
‎
‎“How about leaving, have you thought of that too?” Chioma turned towards me and asked.
‎
‎I looked at her. “Leave Lagos?”
‎
‎She nodded.
‎
‎“Sometimes,” I admitted. “But somehow I still find myself here. Like I was just meant to be here. What about you?”
‎
‎“I think the same too,” she replied. “Maybe Canada or something. But then I realized that half of my stories are here. Both the good ones and the bad ones. If I should leave, who am I without them?”
‎
‎That was really deep.
‎
‎Hours passed. People gradually began returning inside. Mama Esther locked her shop. Even the generators began to die one by one. Chioma got up and shook the rainwater from her hair.
‎
‎“I should go get some sleep,” she said.
‎
‎“Yeah,” I replied, although I wasn't ready to go back inside yet.
‎
‎She gave a small wave before heading up the stairs. I waved back. I was just me now downstairs.
‎
‎Minutes later, the electricity came back on.
‎
‎“Up NEPA!” the neighbours celebrated.
‎
‎Within seconds televisions were turned back on and I could here sounds of movies, music, news and the rest from different flats.
‎
‎But for some reason, I still remained where I was.
‎
‎I couldn't help but notice how for the first time in a while the people in my compound had this connection with one another, and it was all as a result of the blackout.
‎
‎Now with the electricity restored, everyone had dispersed, back to their private worlds.
‎
‎I finally stood up, squeezing the rainwater from my shirt as I returned back upstairs. I opened the front door and sat down in the dark, not even bothering to turn on the lights.
‎
‎It was at that moment I realized the beauty of Lagos when the lights went out. Maybe the blackout was a good thing after all.
‎

Posted Using INLEO