Becoming Me

Chapter Two - Episode One: First Night in Lagos

The bus arrived in Lagos at 8:47 p.m.

By the time she stepped down from the bus, her body was tired from the long journey, but somehow, sleep was the last thing on her mind.

She stood there for a moment with her bag beside her, looking around.

So this was Lagos.

The city she had heard so much about.

The city people described in different ways depending on who was telling the story.

Some people called it a city of opportunities.

Others called it stressful.

Some said Lagos could make you.

Others warned that Lagos could break you if you weren’t careful.

Standing there that night, she didn’t know which version of Lagos she was about to meet.

She only knew that it was loud.

Very loud.

She knew Lagos would be busy.

She just didn’t know it would be this busy.

Horns sounded from every direction.

Hawkers moved between vehicles.

People rushed past one another as if everyone had somewhere important to be.

Yellow buses weaved through the traffic.

Drivers shouted.

Passengers called out.

Phones rang.

Someone was arguing nearby.

Someone else was laughing.

The city seemed to have a heartbeat of its own.

She tightened her grip on her bag.

For a second, she wondered if she had made a mistake.

Everything felt unfamiliar.

The sounds.

The faces.

The movement.

Even the air felt different.

She looked around, searching for the one familiar face she knew she could trust.

Then she saw her.

Her friend.

She was standing a little distance away, waving excitedly.

“There you are!”

A smile immediately appeared on her face.

Her friend hurried toward her.

“You made it!”

Before she could properly answer, her friend hugged her tightly.

“I made it,” she said, laughing softly.

“I told you you’d make it.”

Her friend took one look at her face.

“You look tired.”

“I am.”

“Come on. Let’s go home.”

Home.

The word sounded strange.

This wasn’t her home.

Not yet.

Maybe it would never feel exactly like home.

But that night, she was grateful to have somewhere to go.

Her friend helped her with her bag, and together they made their way through the noise.

She kept looking around.

Everything seemed to be moving.

Even when they were standing still, Lagos somehow felt like it was moving.

Cars passed.

People walked.

Buses stopped and started.

Lights flashed from shops and buildings.

She couldn’t stop staring.

Her friend noticed.

“You’re quiet.”

“I’m just looking.”

“At what?”

“Everything.”

Her friend laughed.

“You’ll get used to it.”

She wasn’t sure about that.

But she smiled anyway.

The journey to her friend’s place seemed to take forever, even though she couldn’t tell exactly how much time had passed.

By the time they finally arrived, she was exhausted.

Her friend opened the door.

The room was small.

One bed.

One fan.

One cooler.

Nothing fancy.

There was barely enough space for two people and their things, but the moment she entered, she felt something she hadn’t felt since she left home.

Safe.

She dropped her bag and sat down.

Her friend looked at her.

“So?”

“So what?”

“How does Lagos feel?”

She looked around the little room.

Then she laughed.

“Ask me tomorrow.”

Her friend laughed too.

“Fair enough.”