By Jackie Jones
There are two passages in the Holy Book I really take to heart, Ecclesiastes 10:7, and the one that speaks about ‘the meek inheriting the earth’. I would have loved to write about the ‘meek’, but not until I meet my friend ‘who is now the first Nigerian Marketing director of a multinational; I just want to shake his hand firstly, and tell him ‘korokoro’ that I saw it coming. In spite of all the eye service, and activities put up by his office mates and superiors at that point, I knew clearly that someday ‘the meek would inherit the earth’. But today, I want to dwell on Ecclesiastes 10:7.
About two and a half decades ago, I gained my freedom of movement from my mother, so I took two vows, to know the street inside out and to find a good woman. I wanted to know the street because I had been shielded from the street all my life. Even in boarding school, I wasn’t totally allowed to experience the street. I knew the street was intriguingly dangerous, and desirous of people like me. I was one chap who could tell you at the least, your next 3 moves, before you could think them. I also had the ability to read minds and sense danger from afar. I was a bit rugged and good looking, so you couldn’t see me coming. Most of all, I had charm, charisma and was witty. I never believed any lady was less than another, no matter how gifted one was, so I respected all. My desire for a good woman was just for my peace, knowing well that the times would get more dangerous by the time I come of age.
Soon I realized that a certain class of people controlled the rest of the people in everything. I realized the boys who worked out at the national stadium felt they were the finest boxers; even Samuel Peter thought so before his last bout. I realized Ikoyi children made the rest believe they were the richest and so the whole city gok’d. There was also this belief that Lag chics were the hippest, even when it was glaring that they were mostly patronizing Tejuosho-bendown. Yoruba boys still believed they owned jand, even when ibo boys are bringing more quid home than ever. Biniboys think they are the smartest, Onitsha and Aba boys believe they can date any babe, after all na money matter. Igbos believe they won the civil war, but the south-west will never accept they sold out during the war and during 2015 elections, Ok, start arguing that one.
Back to Lagos, Ikeja boys claim na them ‘soji’ pass, Lere boys and gals are the cutest no doubt; but can somebody tell mainland people say ‘I get am before no be property’. Ikorodu till tomorrow has nothing to offer Lagos. Then, we didn’t even know it was a part of Lagos. All them Agege, Ajah, Agboju, all the Iyana-whatever are strictly for touts and dropouts, Na joke o. Festac na for upcoming artistes and con men, So on, and on.
The bragging rights were healthy and had pedigree. We knew the Lagos boys and gals because they had history. If a boy drove a drop-top in Ikoyi then, you knew exactly it was either that Obaro boy or a general’s son. If he drove a Pan, You know he’s one of the top civil servants’ son. All the girls who had an accent could be traced to at least Heathrow or JFK, no one took a day or night bus to this town to come show us how they stamped mud off their feet after farming and said it is that stupid dance called ‘leg work’
Boom! From nowhere Lagos lost it, the Nolllywood industry started rearing its ugly head. Gals from the Niger-delta and the east, whose parents were far away, started throwing caution in the wind. Surulere was set to live its full and final life. The city wanted something new. The older generation was about to retire, so they embraced the newly born nollywood, filled with actors that could barely string clear and correct words together. New crop of politicians were all over town, most of them uncouth, so there was no need keeping up with the joneses paying for escorts, the game changed- crass or razz as long as your front or back has razzmatazz you are in. Fortune fell on deaf ears and the movie ‘DOMITILA’ fully birthed a new career, it was called ‘RUNZ’ it wasn’t a full time job, it was just that past time that took care of the full time obligations. They kept modifying the rules of engagement, until young gals became young wives and even the corporate world caught the fire.
At this point it was posh to live in Lekki and also drive your own car to work in Victoria Island or your shop somewhere around admiralty or Ikota axis. Young gals desired this status with everything; men took advantage of the situation. The Ajao estate and cocaine avenue guys in Satellite town took offence, increased crime rate and mostly relocated to Lekki phase1, dragging some of their Festac and ‘Lere’ boys along. Every boy wanted to look prosperous to cut their own piece of cake with all the works buried in promises. Quickly everybody moved to the Island, while Festac boys finally found a new lease of life apart from jumping into the studio and trying to gain admission to study at LASU. Young marriages got the backlash as ladies became financially empowered either by hook or crook. My darling Ikoyi was finally subdued. The control of Lagos social life had been taken away, and the wave almost took economic control, but Jagaban no gree.
Now if you remember, a certain part of the country always had hard working girls, they never believed in exchanging their body for anything, at least it wasn’t very public. They started moving into Lagos with good grades and taking up good jobs. Almost all of them came here with a dream, to make it in life and marry the man of their dream. They quickly realized the gals they met here were about the cheddar and parties and painting the city red, the Lagos born and bred were too consumed in their ‘Iasgidi’ syndrome, that these new entrants took over the corporate world and wanted more.
The problem began when they started hitting mid management and near the top. All the while they were closely admiring the life and leisure of the city which the corporate world nicknamed ‘work-life balance’. They suddenly started bringing in the rugged ones amongst them. Who could do anything the Lagos gal could do and equally live like the nollywood gals.
Suddenly they’ve became the Lagos gals, Lekki gals, and the corporate girls who can party like runz girls. They are fast teaching the ones they met here how to break the rules at home, and get involved in illicit relationships while married. They’ve taught them how to sleep with anyone you fancy. Taught them eye service, malice and opened their eyes to the value of naira. In return they are unable to learn proper etiquette so they opt for fake. They deny their route, and roots. They divorce quickly, and fighting for positions and offices come very easy. They strive to be socialites, ha! Even in this Lagos? Yes! In Lagos. They want to date billionaires, so they can afford to pluck all their fats and push them up in particular areas. Most of them learnt how to dance at 30+, so when they attend parties they always dance more than the celebrants; this so called shaku-shaku has exposed them. They drink like they have never seen alcohol before. They keep visiting until they sleep with your husband and his friends to destroy their homes and yours. They are not afraid of late nights, just mention the venue and you’ll find them there. The painful thing about them is that they have made their way of life the standard in Lagos now.
How did the real Lagos gals allow this happen, how did leaving your husband become so easy that out of every five working class married ladies, three are solidly out of matrimony and still jumping around. How come these gals are working hard, taking over positions and changing the narrative, while the gals of substance are learning bad things from them. They are the ones championing ‘inclusion’ and equality just to have an umbrella to hide and live carelessly. They are no longer smart, because they have brought their clan and clandestine life style to this town. They know the way to all the Babalawos, and they know all the hideouts in this town. They even sing in all the choirs in town, their negative energy is unmatchable so it won’t be easy to rival them now. They have native intelligence, tenacity and worldly wisdom. They don’t look before they leap, they travel for summer yet they bring back no good manners. They want designer shoes and bags yet can’t lay a bed in the morning. They want breakfast in bed, yet they have never made any man dinner since their last promotion. Lagos gals, na so we go dey dey?
Can someone tell everyone to look around and spot these gals about to ruin our homes and eventually ruin Lagos? They have made it too cheap for boys to cheat. They are mentoring our young naïve gals who just got into the corporate life. Can I shout at this point; GALS NO BE SO OOO, NO LET ANYBODY TEACH YOU LEFT HAND FOR OLD AGE O. STAY AWAY FROM THEM, THOSE WOMAN WEY DEY DANCE SHAKU-SHAKU, OR THROW THAT LEG-WORK AT 40 FOR WEDDING AND INSTAGRAM.
But I must put this disclaimer before I land, not all of them are bad. Some are still great and have the good womanly virtues. I have seen the good ones and I have known the bad ones too. But the bad ones are everywhere and crazily spoiling this town.
See, look me, look wetin I wan tell you. I wan breakdown life for this town for you, I wan let you know how e dey be. Na IBADAN GALS WAN SPOIL LAGOS FINISH SO!
Disclaimer: this article like others in this column is dedicated to light hearted banter meant to ease tension and pass on useful tips. It does not represent the opinion of Merge Magazine.