Market place in Lagos

Markets in Lagos are no different from the markets in other parts of the world except that you need to be prepared to face the heat that is quite cruel. In reality, one should be happy to visit the air-conditioned malls which sell almost everything and shopping in style should be the norm of the day. But if we come all the way to Africa, we are likely to be curious of a local market. After much cajoling, my cousin finally agreed to take us to the local market. First things first, we had to remove all the jewellery, wear cotton clothes, carry minimum of cash and carry lots and lots of water. Surprisingly, markets are clean. There is lots of crowd in this particular market and branded goods are available at throw-a-way prices. There are rows and rows of shops selling the same items at competitive prices. There are many more hawkers seen on the road causing traffic jam ( called ‘goslow’ ) and the market there is called ‘goslow market’ The streets are colourful with women dressed in bold block prints and a head scarf. They greet me with a smile and wishing me a very good afternoon. I want to buy a fish and she quotes astronomical price. “Wat, are you mad? It is too much” I say “No mamma! Price very good. I tell you, you no get this price nowhere.” “No, price too high, I no buy. You my friend? You no like me? You no want to sell? No? “Mamma, price very small, I make it small for you, for you only, I make it small, how mush you pay hah?” After much discussion, I finally get a good bargain.

Learning Art of Nigeria

There is no limit to the art world. Every country has its own signature into the art world. I was fascinated with the art world on this side of the globe. In Africa, there is art in the motifs and bright color pictures. I went to the local market and there was a display of African art in most of the stores. My cousin, who is also interested in art, wanted to learn this art from a local native and I decided to accompany here and be a silent learner. Moses, the local painter and artist, agreed to share his talent with us. We drove to his studio to learn his art. While my cousin sat on the hot seat, painting, I learnt it from a distance. We went for two days. On day one, they drew lines with glue cone to create embossed effect and coated with the primer of glue and distemper. They worked on three canvases, Two canvases were on motifs, the third one was on knife paintings. At the end of two days, my cousin had created three beautiful painting. While my cousin was busy painting he was creating more designs He was quick, within one hour he created three more paintings.. We learnt the different motifs, his style of painting and blending of colors. He worked with much ease and style, with no drawing or planning, letting the brushes move freely on the canvas, each stroke plucked from his memory, just creating whatever came to his mind and all were amazing…….

April....in a strange land.....

The branches of the tree are just few inches away from my first floor balcony. I stare at it as I sip my tea. I marvel at the large, green and brown leaves that sway with the warm winds. I slowly shift my gaze towards the blue sheet at the pool that glistens with sunrays. Two small heads plop in and out of the pool, their happy squeals cutting the silence beneath the trees. In this month of April, I am far away from my home town, in a dark continent, in West Africa. Same blue sky of my home town is above me, but, here I am surrounded by healthy, green, clean, fresh air, and a sweet fragrance. The birds sing a happy song. So close to the nature, I should be swinging with joy. I am but only for few hours. I am spoilt by my electronic world and I miss the glossy patterns of bytes and words. I take two hours to complete my work which would normally take only ten minutes in my home town. Slow internet connection drains me out and I wait patiently, furiously pulling the strands of my hair. There is shortage of power at all times of the day; luckily for me, most of the houses have transformers that run on petrol or diesel. My mind drifts to the village home, just few miles away, and I see the discomfort of a native in this primitive land. The weather is too hot and my inspiration has no wings. Is April the cruelest month? I feel sad, but momentarily. Glow returns with the radiance of smiling faces around me. An idle chat of poetry and song, a game of cards, a fancy cuisine or drives through the green winding roads towards the beach shifts my moods and I am happy once more. But, driving through those lonely roads, I am reminded of the armed robbery through the streets that are more common now and I cup my ears to hide the reflections of the stones that dangle through my ear lobes. My heart stands still till I see the familiar secured gates of my holiday home. Safe, once more, I take a chance to enter my virtual world. I am home away from home This April is the cruelest month It is not, or is it?

On the busy streets of Lagos

The car has stopped in the middle of the road and needs immediate attention. Due to bad oil, there is dirt in the carburetor. While the car is being repaired, I am waiting in the car. My car is parked under the shade of the tree, just below the bridge. On my right are palm trees. Each tree is labeled, it has its scientific name, tree name ad its uses. There is a royal palm tree which says is uses for decorative purpose and other shorter tree called Palm tree has its uses listed as edible oil. There are several hawkers resting under the tree. These hawkers are the ones who were hawking in the traffic jam. Here the traffic jam is called ‘goslow’ and these hawkers sell all kinds of wares at ‘goslow’. On my left, there is a bridge and I can see more than 50 hawkers in that small strip of the bridge. They sell all kinds of stuff and run after every car. It is so sunny and hot, and they have their clothes soaked with perspiration, when they are tired, they come here, on my right and rest under these trees.

Visit to Beauty salon in Lagos

One of my cousins was leaving for USA,so she decided to have a make over, to get a new look after her trip to Lagos. She wanted to do streaking and blow dry....we went to the salon, where the owner was a male hair style artist. The salon was full of beautiful paintings covering all the bare walls. There were Indian magazines on the magazine racks. Salon was quite expensive. For dyeing and blow drying my cousin paid about one hundred US dollars whole my couin who did streaking and cutting hair paid almost one hundred and sixty US dollars. It is quite expensive if we compare the rates with India, In Mumbai I normally pay Rs1000 (about 25 US dollars)for dyeing my hair, and that too in a good salon.