Preordained #ProjectNigeria

67- A Memoir

Song- 'Heya' by Brymo

Nwanyieze's POV~

It feels good to be back in Lagos.

"Babi gial, buy plantain chiss!" a street hawker calls to me through the window of the Danfo I'm sitting in. A smile tugs at the corners of my lips as a soft, male voice whispers the endearment in my head. I oblige the hawker, purchasing three packets of plantain chips and thinking of how Adanna will enjoy them during my next visit. She thanks me and moves onto the next vehicle.

Another hawker seizes the opportunity and moves to replace the plantain chips vendor.

"Aunty buy chilled drink for better enjoyment," he tells me, turning so I can see the carefully arranged stacks of colourful bottles in a huge bowl he carries on his head. Not minding saving a few bottles in my refrigerator for later, I purchase two bottles of Coke.

Fresh off the National Youth Service Corps (NYSC) boat from Abuja, I returned to Lagos last week, rented an apartment in Yaba, and restarted my life. Already I have readjusted to living in the Centre of Excellence, immediately switching to Pidgin and the little Yoruba I know. Lagos makes one do things a bit faster than the average Nigerian: waking up earlier than normal, walking faster, even speaking faster. It's like it has a fast-paced rhythm of its own, and you automatically dance to the tempo without even knowing.

Excitement runs through me at the thought of working in Lagos, with so many events and tourist attractions, so many opportunities to create content with colourful, vibrant pictures. I have been blogging for a year and I'm working on a book I want to publish- with a pseudonym, of course. It was during my youth service that I had been inspired to blog, to share stories of my past and my everyday life. I mean, if I have to live with my pain, why don't I create something out of it while inspiring and encouraging other people?

Blogging has been lucrative for me so far because I have been dedicated. For now I run advertisements and influence brands through reviews for good amounts of money, I post stories that people send to me via email, and share tips on whatever I know- from hair and skin care, to relationship and life advise. My traffic generation is steadily rising and I'm hopeful that next year, it will get better.

Nothing had appealed to me about getting a job- it's not like they're out there in abundance, anyway. Employment rates are very low, especially among the fresh graduates. It has me wondering what the whole point of an education is if you can't get a job because you don't have a minimum of five years of working experience by age 25.

I had just wanted the luxury of having my own time to myself and working with it as I wished. And on the plus side, it didn't put me out there in a society that would more likely turn their backs on me if the knowledge of my past ever reached their ears.

Getting to my apartment, I change into more comfortable clothes and put my groceries in one place. Tonight, I have to start creating new content for my blog, and so I must ensure that I have enough food to last beyond tomorrow. Tope is also visiting, and we have a lot to talk about.

Tope and I have become close, after that horrible night at Tasha's party. She had taken me home where I'd packed a few of my belongings and followed her to her place. Tope had searched for an apartment for me at my request, helped me move, and kept in touch with me over the year.

I, in turn, had encouraged her to follow her dream by stopping prostitution and pursuing a degree in the university. She was always interested in Theatre Arts, and with my help, she had passed her Joint Admission Matriculation Board (JAMB) exams and gained admission into University of Lagos. There are times when it saddens her that she is in her twenties as a first year student, but I always encourage her that it's never too late to start something good.