Greetings from Lagos!

This is the first chance I’ve had to sit down and collect my thoughts since I arrived. I was warned to expect something of a culture shock when I got here, but the Nigerian work ethic wasn’t mentioned. Thirteen-hour workdays seem to be the norm here, including weekends, although I suspect that is more a function of the demanding client we are working for. Glo is Nigeria’s second largest cellular network, so it’s a bit like working on Vodacom – but with a tenth of the staff complement. We have daily meetings with the Glo marketing department management that can be quite wearisome, a core committee of 6 with a cast of thousands drifting in and out, everyone with their own opinion to add and hotly debate. In spite of that, we have actually managed to present (and sell) some fairly good work. The Glo-world revolves around the omnipotent Chairman, Dr Mike Adenuga who is one of the richest men in Africa – a dollar multi-billionaire. Besides dabbling in telecoms (he personally paid for the only submarine cable from Nigeria to Europe) he owns oil fields and a bank. The size of his business empire notwithstanding, he insists on personally overseeing most of the work that goes on. He's quite a phenomenon. Everyone vies to impress him and keep up with his odd working hours, that start around noon and continue till 3 or 4 in the morning, with all hands expected to be on deck and ready to jump at a moment’s notice. Today’s meeting, postponed thrice since Monday, was cancelled (with his multifarious business interests this is not uncommon), so we’re still waiting to see him!

At the moment I’m living a cloistered life, in Lekki Phase 1, an upmarket suburb on Victoria Island. Kind of like Lagos’s Sandton – the modern business centre with expensive private residences. I’m in Admiralty Way, staying in an apartment on the top floor of a three-storey house with the agency studio and kitchen on the bottom floor and a lounge and small boardroom on the second. Everything’s modern and air-conditioned. It makes going outside a bit like stepping off the plane in the Maldives – a blast of heat and humidity that makes you gasp. Fortunately (at least I think so) we are entering into the rainy season, so most days we have had some solid tropical thunderstorms late afternoon or at night. That cools things down for just a while. It also leaves the streets semi-flooded in places. 

My only forays outside have been in an air conditioned 4x4 SUV, driven by our driver and general sort-outer, an excellent guy named Halim. The streets are incredible – potholes, gravel washaways, half-demolished surprise speedbumps and, everywhere, swarms of motorcycle taxis called okadas. These are mind-boggling – I saw someone carrying a full length stepladder on one yesterday! The okada are regarded as vermin by the other road users; their lack of etiquette and adherence to the rules of the road puts SA minibus taxi drivers in the shade. However, the fragility of their bikes precludes them from the bullying tactics we see at home and, to be honest, they’re what keeps Lagos moving. Actually, everyone here drives like a Jozi minibus taxi, just without that endearing road rage. I reckon the traffic here is so jaw-droppingly dreadful that it’s absolutely pointless getting upset by it. The number of near misses a short (half hour) drive to the client entailed stressed me the first time, impressed me the second and barely registered by the third.

Of course, the routine of living at work and living the life of a harem princess (minus the bevies of women to keep me company) is getting to me a bit. I haven’t so much as stepped past the blockhouse that guards the high, heavy metal gate to explore my surroundings. In the evenings I usually stand on my balcony for a drink and a smoke before retiring, by which time all is quiet and there’s nothing to see, besides the flickering fires of some shacks that occupy an empty plot across the road.  Every day, about 1km up the Way towards the Lekki tollgate (newly constructed, but not yet operating as anything more than a hindrance to the traffic flow)  I pass a hopeful looking bar, but I haven’t had a gap to get out and at it. Even going to the shops is taken care of by resourceful Halim.

It was quite funny on Monday – I mentioned to him that I needed to get some sandals, so next thing this shoe-seller pitches up in the driveway pushing a large two-wheeler barrow piled high with sandals. Dozens of sandals! I felt quite bad that the ones I liked weren’t in my size, but Mr Halim wasn’t put out and shooed the sandalman away to find the right size.  This weekend I’ll make sure I go shopping with him and Nancy (the live in Ghanaian housekeeper who is keeping me very well fed), if only to get out. Thankfully I’ll be attending a TV shoot on Saturday, so at least the location will be somewhere new. I don’t know how long it will be before I get to see the less sanitized parts of Lagos that I’ve heard about, but that’s an adventure I’m looking forward to having all in good time.

As I’m sure you’ve gathered from the trivia, I don’t really have much to report; My life consists of: work, present to client, work, sleep, wake up and do it all over again. Overall, though, my impressions of Nigeria have been good. The people I have met have been really friendly (including the clients, one of whom, a senior dude known as the Professor, hugged me when I was introduced!). Even the airport customs security guy who shook me down for R200 when I arrived (my Yellow fever shot was 9 days fresh instead of the statutory 10) was quite cheerful and as malice-free as you could ever wish a career bandit to be. My creative staff (including three brand newbies – a junior art director/writer team and a DTP guy) are highly motivated and passionate, they work like Trojans and don’t bitch about it (we should get some SA prima donnas up here for a week, that would larn them) and I’m more excited and motivated by my work than I have been in a few years.