Life is full of surprises, but I certainly wasn’t expecting this one.
Yesterday was exactly one year since I decided to move cities.
Everyone loves surprises. Or so we think.
We like the unexpected credit alerts that light up our day. Thoughtful gifts. Random hugs. Personalized, handwritten love notes. The things that seem to make life beautiful. The things that remind us of blue skies and sunshine.
Yet, when faced with the rude shock of unwelcome surprises, we quickly redefine the word and distance ourselves from all they stand for: the loss of a loved one, a fatal accident, lost jobs, heartbreaks, cheating, and red bloodstains on perfectly creased pants.
For me, it was starting my life afresh. I knew it was time to move. Uyo was getting uncomfortably stagnant. I wanted more. Possibilities. Hope. Progress.
I had 24 hours to fit 7 years of my life into a backpack, a midi box, and hop on the next flight to bring me to the bustling city of Lagos.
Armed with the love of God, the blessings of my family, prearranged housing, and the love of my life with whom I had endured a long-distance relationship for 13 months, I felt prepared for this fresh start. I had some money saved up to last me 6 months in this city, pending when I find my feet and start working again.
These were more than enough for me. Or so I thought.
Well, tell that to the small city of Uyo, where the cost of living is low. I could get fresh vegetables from Eka Edidiong, whose small farm served everyone on Urua Ekpa Street. I could book a Bolt "keke" and still revel in its luxuriousness. I could afford a trip to the salon to wash and weave my all back, and fix my acrylic nails, complete with an air conditioner and a movie to keep me company, for a mere 5k. I regularly treated myself to turkey and indulged in my mom’s exquisite fruit sauce—my weekly reward after a demanding week. Evening strolls were not a hassle because the air was crisp, the city was tidy, and the roads were not chaotic.
Lagos hit me like a slap in the face. This wasn’t my Uyo. Something felt different; this wasn't the familiar scent I was accustomed to. At the end of my day, I touched my face, only to find black soot thriving.
I now understand why the skincare industry thrives in Lagos State. In 12 months, I’ve had to adopt a skincare regimen, an aspect of life I was never accustomed to, as my naturally flawless skin had to contend with acne, hyperpigmentation, black spots, and the like.
After depleting my life savings on exorbitant Bolt rides, some as high as 15k for a single trip, I learned to find comfort as I “jumped bus” on a Monday morning or woke up early to catch the infamous BRT buses.
Moving to a new city is like starting life afresh on a blank slate. You write your story one job interview at a time. Every hello from a stranger holds promises of a blossoming relationship. Every new street is ready to create new memories. Trying new places or collecting new items. It is a constant hunt.
Job Hunting
Friend hunting
Hobby hunting
Safety hunting
The thrill is exhilarating. Sometimes. Other times, it can be scary and daunting. Leaving you breathless and wanting to settle into the familiar.
I am here, 365 days later, still armed with the love of God. Promises and prophecies had gone ahead of me. Quietly navigating this chaos called Lagos. Loved by home and a community of new friends. Happy Birthday To Me.
I've felt settled in at the most. Mentally prepared to take everything in. Among all I had to deal with, not a dicky bird prepared me for a breakup just three weeks after moving to Lagos. My 13-month-old relationship came to an end.
Singlehood. Nothing in my mental prep kit could have shielded me from it.
Life is full of surprises, but I certainly wasn’t expecting this one.