Nonstop flow of...

queenofthequad:

yes… summer is HEREEE

unexpected.

Hmm… found this interesting piece in one of my reading assignments for my GEOG 204 class (BTW, DO NOT take this class if you don’t have to… lol). I guess I should read assigned readings more often…

The following excerpt is from a research paper on the attitude of the people working in Lagos’ informal sector.

I stopped one day toward noon at an intersection; a young man in a black T-shirt that announced “I’m a Quiz Genius” was standing between the median strip and a lane of cars, holding out a fistful of dog leashes. His name was John Cheku, he said, and he came from Edo State, about 200 miles east of Lagos.

“I’ve been doing this for seven years,” he said, keeping an eye our for some sign from a driver. I couldn’t remember ever having seen a dog in Lagos. “I might sell six leashes a day for 150 naira [$1.25] each. I don’t make much profit.” Not enough to send money home, in any case. The sun was beginning to hurt; he turned his green visor around to shade his eyes. Two lanes of cars rolled past; the fumes and heat were painful. No dog owners so far.

“I always work this intersection,” he said. “I came to—how do I put it—we don’t have much money in our situation.” It was awkward, but better than saying “I came because I’m broke.” “I came by myself. I don’t want to involve myself in any bad gang, that’s why I’m doing this. I would like to be a musician on a stage, to entertain people.” I stayed with him half an hour; he didn’t sell a single leash. “No, I don’t get discouraged,” John Cheku said, “because I know that God is life.”

If the spectacular energy and tenacity that Lagos’s millions expend on sheer survival were to find some means of producing tangible results, the city could have real hope of becoming, as Aregbesola boasted, “the capital city of the black race.”

As it is, it’s every man for himself, hoping for the best, praying like crazy.

Yes… hoping for the best and praying like crazy.