Feeling Safe

As I stepped outside of my house at midnight last Friday, I decided, for some unknown reason, to take in some atmosphere. Just stand in the middle of the driveway, look up to the sky, breathe, and take it all in. As “middle class” Nigerians, a lot of us don’t really set time aside to take in our surroundings. We wake up and move from house to car, to office, to car, to gym (maybe), to car, back to house, to car, to a bar/club (on the weekends), then back to house. We love our enclosed, air conditioned spaces. Yes we do. But as I stood under the midnight sky, with a full moon looming overhead, I began to understand why. For even within the enclosures of my own compound, in what is arguably one of the most secure neighbourhoods in Lagos, I realized that I didn’t feel safe.

I looked around me - The generator remained as always, humming in the corner, giving light to our home as NEPA had not seen it fit to provide electricity for days on end. The illuminated house was beautiful; its magnificence amplified in the moonlight. But beyond the four walls of the compound; literally less than ten meters from where I stood, darkness spread out as far as the eye could see (or not see, as the case was). And Even with the generator engine revving, I could feel the silence; the quietness beyond our physical plane. A silence that signified that at night, Lagos belonged to creatures of darkness; to beings, tangible, and perhaps some intangible, that we would hope never to encounter.
Lagos is not a city where you walk around at midnight; a lot of us hardly walk during the day as it is. But on that Friday night it hit me a little harder; “This is the way we are going to live” - From the safety of our houses to the enclosing barriers of our cubicles in our offices (maybe a corner office if we work hard and get lucky), and then back again - Lather, rinse repeat – for the rest of our lives.

I always seem to draw comparisons to other countries, but can you blame me? Without comparison it is impossible to put things into perspective. In the UK or in the States, I had no fears walking down the streets at night to grab something at the nearest convenience store. Was it the police stationed by the street corner that gave me comfort, or was it the street lights that illuminated the path I walked? Was it the frequency at which I saw people doing the same thing I was; walking with their beloveds, or maybe even going for a midnight jog? Was it the fact that the nearest convenience store was never less than a ten minute walk away from my residence, or the fact that the store felt it was safe enough, and profitable enough, to be open that late? Maybe it was a combination of all those things that put my mind at ease. Or maybe it was just the fact that I was in a country of generally elevated repute compared to my country of origin. In many a street in the New York, outside the main city, crimes rates are high. Even within the main city there are train routes you’d best avoid after midnight. In Hackney, London, there is an alley called murder mile, aptly named for the fact that at least one corpse was extracted from the cryptic pathway every week. In fact, if you went for a midnight stroll in Lagos, chances are no one would touch you; the fact that you ventured out –on foot- at that ungodly hour would probably make most passersby more scared of you than you were of them. Just don’t sport anything too fancy. Wearing designer clothes and a fancy watch is just asking for it.

Now don’t take me up on that. I don’t want to be the cause of one of my friends’ untimely transformation into a tuber of yam. The streets of Lagos may not be that user friendly yet. But even if they ever got that way, would we be motivated to leave the warm, snug, refuge of our abodes? No NEPA means that the street lights will probably not work. A lack of midnight buses or regular taxis means that you can’t really get too far. If you have cravings for late night Mac and cheese, the nearest convenience store is probably a couple of miles away, and NOT open. So what is there to motivate us to leave our homes, even with the safest streets? Pretty much nothing. Now I’m not here to criticize. I’m not going to go on a lengthy spiel about how the stimulation of our night economy could increase employment, reduce crime and make the place generally more habitable. These things you already know. I’m just Captain Obvious, here to save the day – and by “save the day”, I mean just air my thoughts on how miserable I think things are while not doing a thing to sort it all out.

Maybe if I’m lucky some entrepreneur will see this and open a chain of 24/7 Convenience stores/pubs (not nightclubs) around town to get things going. Granted, they’ll probably have to have armed doormen, but hey, it’s a start.

Till then, I remain,
Captain Obvious/Pat II