LIFE IS THEATRE
Lagos is a place where the stage mirrors life,
Life is theatre, and theatre is older than civilisation. The first drama to be performed anywhere must have been in the Garden of Eden, when Adam and Eve suddenly realised that they were naked. The prologue to that scene would be the devil in the guise of a serpent seducing Eve to eat the forbidden fruit. Was it a conspiracy? Was Eve part of the plot or was she just naïve? The conflict would have been provided by the Adam accusing Eve of deceiving him, and blaming God for putting Eve with him. An honest mea culpa could have absolved him but he welched. Such a wimp! “It is the woman you gave me”, could easily be the punch line in a scene in a play. But that self-serving deflection by Adam to a straight forward question was the turning point in the drama that ended with the fall of man from grace. The epilogue would be the exit of Adam and Eve from Eden in loin cloths made of fig leaves, leading in part to the troubles we now have in Nigeria. A stretch of imagination? Maybe. Can you imagine the scurrying around that must have been done by Adam and Eve when they heard God’s voice and their eventual admission of guilt? Life is theatre.
Lagos is non-stop drama. One day in the life of Lagos is a composite of snapshots from different walks of life. From the young man, who cuts into your lane at the roundabout, without indicating, obviously proving that he “bought” his driver’s license, to the young lady who comfortably rides pillion on an “okada” and is sending text messages as the “okada” rider weaves and bops his way through the narrow spaces he can find in between cars in rush hour traffic. Dangerous living? Not really! A piece of cake if you have no thought of your own future. Wow, look! There are some street hawkers here who can rival Usain Bolt for initial acceleration, if there is likely to be a sale at the end of the chase. Oh! What about that well- spoken lady clad in an Armani style skirt suit, who steps out of a shiny new Kia Picanto and squares up against both the “danfo” bus driver and his conductor with the bulging biceps, for scrapping against her side mirror? Lagos living is about attitude and stepping up. Shakespeare himself would have happily proclaimed Lagosians as “players that strut and fret their hours upon the stage”. What about that gentleman in a bespoke Brioni suit, who pretends to be reading a newspaper whilst his driver and rented police orderly drive him up a one-way street against traffic? All in the course of a day! Lagos has so much soul and rhythm that even when it winds down at the end of the day, it does not sleep. It purrs! You can feel that it is merely catching its breath to start the next day’s race before the break of dawn.
Lagos City is life at a furious pace. It is the throng of area boys gathered around the socialite in resplendent white as he steps out of his black shiny SUV, some with one fist raised in acknowledgement and in salutatory deference, and the others with stretched out hands and upward facing palms waiting to spoon in their own share of the same ubiquitous $43 million, wherever it might be found. It is Igbosere Street with the row of shops that service the law courts. It is the “bread and akara” that nurtured young people in the days before the advent of Mr. Biggs and Kentucky Fried Chicken. Lagos is simply St. Gregory’s College, the oasis of learning and culture in Obalende and one of the most consistent performers in the evergreen and enduring Principals’ Cup.
Lagos is 50 years of existence and counting. It is real time theatre at its best. It is also the $43 million dollars, orphaned and abandoned in a luxury apartment in upmarket Ikoyi, which on a calm and sober reflection translates into many water borehole schemes for many indigent communities in Nigeria, or perhaps many free exercise books for primary education in rural Nigeria, or maybe even meningitis and river blindness treatment for thousands of people.
Lagos City is a place where the stage mirrors life, and life personifies the woven fabric of the struggles that live in it, a way to re-connect and recreate on several levels. It is the large swatches of darkness in the night punctuated only by the din and racket of a massive collection of privately owned and managed power grids called generators. In the plot of the drama that unravels from sunrise to sundown, and in the twist of the interlocking teardrops, the yin and the yang, the line is blurred and reality becomes the drama of the jaded and the cynical. On a lighter note, Lagos is that musical called Kakadu, a “celebration of the infinite possibilities” in life, rich and enthralling, a journey back from Lagos to Eko City, a roller coaster of music, dance and emotions. A powerful narrative of love, friendship and the loss of innocence. Life indeed is theatre and we should give thanks to God for such a gift! Nwokedi,SAN, wrote from Lagos