A large helping of life in Lagos

In 2010, I was lucky enough to go on a business trip to Lagos, Nigeria. This was the first trip to Africa, despite having worked on numerous projects and campaigns for the region in the preceding years. I was involved in a pitch for a very large project for an international drinks brand, and though there would be some hard work done in closed rooms, I would also get to see the megacity of Lagos first hand.

When I arrived at Lagos airport, the first thing that struck me was the all-enveloping tropical heat. Then, very quickly, I was witness to the daily realities of life for ordinary people when we got our taxis. There were a great deal of beggars surrounding the area, many of whom had lost limbs and were using carts and trolleys to move about. Coming from a developed country with extensive free healthcare (yes, I do realise how lucky I am) it was a shock to see first hand what a struggle to survive the vast majority of people in Lagos experience.

I was invited to go on a ‘trade visit’. This involved being driven into the heart of the Lagos suburbs to view first-hand how ordinary citizens live and buy their food, in the hope that I could come up with some new and innovative ways to use point of sale and packaging for our clients. I remember the drive took quite a while, firstly because the traffic in Lagos is so heavy, and secondly because Lagos suburbs are so vast. I was quickly lost in terms of bearings, and as the colourful houses, market stalls and mini shops whizzed by I grabbed my camera. I was swiftly told by our driver not to take pictures, which I found very frustrating indeed because this was a once in a lifetime opportunity. However, when he explained the reasons, involving people called ‘area boys’… I was happy to keep the camera under wraps. When we stopped at a small shop (Thankfully I was allowed to take pictures here) I was quickly surrounded by children, and though they were friendly and meant me no harm, I felt very vulnerable and well out of my comfort zone.

It occurred to me that Lagos has at least two highly contrasting communities that live side by side. The first is the extension of the world that I live in – the western world with its abundance of food, comfortable beds, and en-suite bathrooms. Then, when you move outside the closed gates with security guards on them, driving in sleek air-conditioned cars, we look out upon a world that (I understand) the majority of the Lagos population live in… with no healthcare safety net, where the struggle to find enough money for a person’s needs is a daily one. I found the time, between business meetings and working sessions for a quick swim in the hotel pool. I did this alone, there was no-one about and the sun loungers were empty. After the reality of life I’d been witness to on the trade visit I felt like a lone emperor in his ivory tower. My swim, although pleasant, was missing something – the vibrancy of life I had seen was outside the gates, and my own community of loved-ones was far away at home in Britain.

In the UK, we live in our own gated community, with the gates possibly set to become thicker and stronger in the current political climate. I know there is real poverty and hardship in here as the rise in the use of food banks is testament to, but in Lagos the vulnerability of the poorest is at a different level. It’s hard to see the gates when they are confined to airports and ferry ports, but they are still there.

In the midst of all this, I was at risk of missing the point that these experiences were going to teach me. All the people I met in Lagos, either wealthy or not, had a real warmth and spirit. I was amazed that whilst we were driving around I would spot a dusty street corner with lots of scrap and detritus lying around and a beautifully dressed and well turned-out man or woman would appear wearing colourful traditional Nigerian dress – and looking stunning! It showed me that no matter what the situation we find ourselves in it is possible to shine.

We didn’t win the pitch, but maybe I came away with something more valuable – an appreciation for the real Nigerian spirit I saw and the power of the human spirit in adversity that has stayed with me.

Sometimes I feel anxious about the future – security, money and means but I realise I must not ignore the chances to connect with my fellow humans and celebrate all that I have, the opportunity to enjoy life and share with others what it means to be alive. So many don’t get the chances I have had. I must also remember that positivity or a smile costs nothing. Yes, life can be a struggle for all of us in many different ways, but it can also be a joy. Maybe the trick is to find that joy where were are, and it seemed to me the people of Lagos can do that very well.

Cover Photograph: Danfos in Lagos by Peter Porteous-Butler