I thought this thrilling thought, to attempt a comparative analysis of Naija’s mega cities, but I perished the thought before it took a concrete form. But It has become a leech stuck to my blokos- “what the hell? give it what it demands! thinking don’t kill”- the muse whispered in my ear, so here I am giving it a thought.
Lagos, Abuja and Portharcourt are inarguably the three only mega cities in Nigeria- whatever the definition of mega city might be on wikipedia. I have my own definition, I.e. “how obvious are the Redlights”. Not traffic lights o! I mean Redlight as in Redlight district.
LAGOS: I have lived here most of my three decades + on Earth, and I can put my neck on the chopping block for Lagos anytime, anywhere anyhow. But I cannot bear witness to the light- Redlights of Lagos. Most lights come on to shine at nights, and yours sincerely, I am not really a night crawler. so I miss out on all the twinkling winkling redlighting and moonshining going on and off in Lagos. To this Chibuzor Okoroafor can bear me witness on this claim. Only traffic lights rule my world here. Sometime traffic lights rock not my world, but my boat. I am mostly stuck in traffic jams and go-slows. So, my experience of Lagos redlights is the red tailights of vehicles in traffic.e
ABUJA: Abuja, Abuja, Abuja, I know Abuja-folks are conservative (short of saying stucked-up) I really don’t know about the lights (red, Amber, Orange, headlamps, trafficators, streetlamps). But I have always dreamt of the shaded glows and ambience of the Le Femme De Abuja. I wish, all the time, that I could reach across those dreams, as wet as some of the dreams are, to strip those hijabs and stare full view into those sunshinny eyes. But I have learnt from Gimba Kakanda ‘s letter to his Unborn Son that things bright and beautiful, if maid in this slow-paced city, are like candlelights: they attract moths only to burn them out. So I have not given any significant thought to playing Christopher Columbus in Abuja. I am yet to getting up to exploring the Redlight districts of Abuja, though in my dreams it is easier. I am taking it easy.
PORTHARCOURT: “Oh Good old Pitakwa! fairest of maidens, Jewel of the Niger-Delta, thou art most dear to my heart”. I will not forget soon the royal treatment meted out to moi in such good measure, pressed-down shaken-together, and running-over (you know what I’m saying?) PortHarcourt: home of the sirenes, how I crave to look upon her face again. In Pitakwa, moths don’t get burn’t by “la Lume Rouge” they get sucked in and sucked-off their juice. And man, can those redlip Beautys suck! They can suck the juice out of a banana and the banana becomes a flagpole. The Redlight network in this mega city is state of the EartH perfection. It was a cold, cold night that year, on my maiden visit to the Garden City, I had my cumming of age experience. The redlights never for once stopped blinking Green at me. It was a cold night, when I went a-hunting (for fairies) in the glow of moonlight. I came up with nothing, ‘cos there was no such things as fairies. Only Nymphs. Back in the hotel (which I will not name) I met this mammy wata looking chic. We got talking, but she wasn’t exactly Oprah, so the talk was short timed. It is really a marvel how much you could be taught in such short time. I learn’t how to mount an ass and remain saddled; I also learnt the fine art of milking a cow, I also learnt that money answereth all things. This mammy wata was so hot, that I was kept warm all night by her heat. She was either on heat, or the sireens of Pitakwa are that hot. I am thrilled to think both, I know what I’m saying.
Well, so much for a comparative analysis of Naija’s finest mega cities. I need not bore you with a literary comparison. We all know that literatures are written in PortHarcourt, published in Lagos and read in Abuja. To further emphasize this point may lead me into telling the tale of Icarus who flew too close to the sun and got burnt. I will not douse my ardour for lights (Redlight) with such dark and gloomy tale.
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