It is not difficult to see the depressing spectacle as you worm your way into the womb of the state with an estimated 22 million people, from the Berger end of the endlessly rehabilitated Lagos-Ibadan Expressway, and traverse its aquatic landscape, The expressway, as important as it is to the nation’s economy, has taken the whole of the last 22 years, involving all the administrations that have ruled the country since then, to fix. Every New Sheriff in Town comes with a new completion date that never happens. Agony subsists. Incidentally, the Abeokuta end of its entry point isn’t exciting either.
As you descend from the scary Long Bridge that has now turned into a haven for herdsmen killers and night marauders, then to Kara Bridge, and face what ordinarily should be the allure of Lagos, pockets of cudgel-wielding fierce-looking youths, menacingly commandeering buses and trucks bearing farm produce and sundry products meant for the millions of residents, welcome you instead. The brazenness is unimaginable. What a contradiction it is, the centre of excellence introduced by a less than excellent visage.
If it is at dusk, it is even scarier and messier. The traffic on the road is obstructed, so the wearied drivers could compellingly pay unreceipted levies. But, at all times, it is a spectacle that tells the tale of a state whose government, as an institution for law enforcement, fights a losing battle for space with unaccountable non-state actors, and most times and in many places, surrendering the space to them.
Ironically, the felons, or are they recognised miscreants given the refusal of the government and security agencies to rein in on them, strategically congregate near the place where the uninviting board with the iconic inscription, This is Lagos!, that welcomes a visitor into the state, used to stand. That is what makes Lagos unique, its residents say. Nobody welcomes anybody into it. You are only urged to behold your subject of fascination and aspiration. While some live to tell the tales of triumph later, others aren’t that lucky. Curiously, many are “shuffering and smiling” inside it.
Those who gleefully superintend over the affairs of the state, and eat of the good of the land, delightfully trumpet it as a megacity. Of course, by population, it is, as it trumps many African countries like Burkina Faso (20 million), Guinea (12m), Togo (8m), Chad (15m), and Benin (11m). But it is a city bedevilled with frustrating mega issues that border on its governance. Or lack of it. It is not a sane city, pretensions notwithstanding. Evidence abounds. With all its wealth, Lagos should be better. In 2019, it was ranked, for the third consecutive time, as the “worst liveable city in Africa” in the Global Liveability Index by the Economist Intelligence Unit. The state government, understandably, protested. But we know. If in doubt, drive to the Ijegamo area of Ikotun Egbe.
It is not even too far to see as events at the “Gate of Lagos” at Berger, the popular “border” town with Ogun State, show daily. Because I ply the route daily, I do not cease to wonder how the state authorities appear helpless in the face of such brigandage on display at their entry point. There is no city of note in Africa I have visited that I have witnessed such unsavoury sight. Not even Arusha in Tanzania. Why then is the abnormality so normalised that no action of note is executed by agencies of state to clear Berger of the miscreants who daily and brazenly harass and extort buses transporting traders and their goods, mainly agriculture produce, into the state? To make it more ludicrous, by the right hand side of the road is a police patrol van permanently garrisoned there, with the operatives absent-mindedly watching, or unconcerned, most times, as this perfidious act of extortion unfolds before them. Or, are they working in cahoots with the extortionists?
Just by the left hand side, however, this time as you exit the state, is a lay-by built by the Ambode administration to contain what used to be a monstrous gridlock that always snaked into Otedola Bridge. The lay-by worked wonders as commercial bus drivers complied with the traffic regulation, not to drop off passengers on the roadside. Or risk arrest and possible prosecution. For months, sanity reigned. Now, it is not so again. Nobody enforces the regulation. None even fears the law enforcement agents within. The facility has now been turned into the old Oshodi bus stop, with drivers turning it into a parking lot for stationary vehicles while petty traders have a field day. Bedlam is the new normal now. Okada riders now heading to Mowe park there. Yet, a police truck is parked beside, helplessly, while some folks busy themselves collecting forced levies from cursing drivers.
If you drive to its Central Business District in Alausa, a few kilometres away from the seat of government, every parking space is controlled by touts or “area boys”, who forcibly collect fees not remitted to the state coffers. Some even print their own receipts to give a seal of officialdom to their perfidy. The loss to the revenue of the state is humongous, an audit firm report said. Were the state to plug all the leakages in its revenue till, its basket of funds will be fuller than it is now. But does it have the political will and sincerity of purpose to so do? And if it can, will it? It is even worse on the Island. Terrifying and stupefying.
That is how you are introduced, or inducted into Lagos life. And that is also the lived reality, from Berger to Badagry, Somolu to Oshodi, Ikeja to Epe, Mushin to Ojuelegba. It seems like a territory concessioned to menacing touts and louts, of different shades and shapes. All beyond state control. Or, so they make it appear, sadly. Reminds one of Somalia after the Siad Barre regime collapsed, leading to the emergence and proliferation of warlords controlling swathes of territories and enclaves of their choice in the country, the most notable of them being Mohammed Farrah Aideed. Woe betide anyone whose vehicle develops any fault on any part of Lagos roads. Or bridges. Touts hiding in street corners and roadsides will swoop on you to fleece you. It gets worse if you are driving into or around the city late in the night. The neighbourhoods are awash with drugged dragons. With vicious cultists multiplying like fearsome millipedes. The okada menace too has since quadrupled, bold and unchecked.
The renovated Apapa-Oshodi Expressway is not spared, as serpentine traffic has returned. Commercial bus drivers now abandon the lay-by situated after the Armed Forces Resettlement Centre and block the expressway, to pick passengers. A subsisting traffic law criminalises this behaviour. But the state isn’t enforcing it to the letter. The result is the gridlock that confronts one as one descends the bridge from the international airport road daily. The traffic warden I asked why they allow drivers to obstruct traffic one day, replied indifferently, “Oga, dem no dey gree comot for road.” Meaning, the drivers disobey them with impunity. That is a crying indictment on the state.
Sadly, everybody sees it as normal. But Lagos is not just an ordinary state; with a projected N60bn monthly IGR, it is by far the richest state in Nigeria, accounting for over 80% of its foreign trade flows, and generating over 50% of the country’s port revenues, according to reports. Were it to be a country, Lagos would be the fourth-biggest economy in Africa in terms of GDP; contributes 30% to Nigeria’s GDP, and is home to 10% of its population. But it is a state heavily hobbled by a lack of effective law enforcement capability, therefore turning it into a palace of lawlessness and gangsterism of sort. That itself is an evidence of institutional weakness.
Since assumption of office, Governor Babajide Sanwo-Olu has applied himself to improving the road infrastructure in the state. New roads are being built, with the Pen Cinema Bridge and five arterial road networks in the area recently inaugurated, to the relief of motorists. Earlier, he had opened the Lagos-Ogun state boundary roads, Phase II in Agbado Oke-Odo LCDA and other road rehabilitations to ease traffic across the state. Commendable as this seems, it pales into insignificance with the failure of the authorities to get the kneel of menacing touts, cultists and marauding deviants off the neck of the state so Lagosians can breathe freely. The dream of a smart city will remain elusive if impervious elements, seemingly enjoying state backing, hold it in a chokehold. When citizens flout the law with impunity, it’s either the government is weak or captured. Or, the leader is part of it. Can the governor then dismantle this seeming altar?
jnwokeoma@gmail.com. 07085183894
*Azuka Onwuka’s column returns next week
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