Lagos at Night

I turned on the air-conditioning;

To battle this scorching heat.

I wait for a few minutes,

hoping that the heavy air will vanish.

But it doesn't.

I wonder why, since the humming

of the generator is loudly heard in my apartment.

In the middle of summer,

I had to endure this.

I know I have way out.

I can always leave and go back to

Seattle.

The sirens outside are maddening.

The clutters all around and the excruciating traffic.

There is a sense of misery in this place.

Sometimes, all I want is to pack my bags and hop on the next plane out.

Who am I kidding, I will never leave Lagos.

In a kind of twisted way, this is my home.

This chaos is my comfort.

The anxiety is my addiction.

Lagos is my life.

And though it is not at all easy,

I will stay

Because, here, in its bosom, I can be me.

The generator stopped.

It is going to be a long night.