I jerked up from the bed. Something felt off. Something I couldn't pinpoint immediately.
I listened but it wasn't there. Lagos wasn't announcing its morning properly. Lagos wasn't awake. I stood up and walked to the window. I listened again, carefully this time. And there it was my confirmation that Lagos was asleep for the first time.
Something must be off, I thought. Maybe I had woken up too early. I quickly rushed over to my bedside clock
"7:15 AM" it boldly read.
I hadn't woken up too early; rather , the city was bereft of its usual bus horn. Or someone shouting at a neighbor. Or the sharp cry of a hawker already selling sachet water like the day was running late. Not even an argument between the couple upstairs who fought like it was their morning devotion. No radio from the security man’s corner. Even though the fan in my room sounded too loud for the new Lagos I had woken up to, I got up and switched it off.
Silence immediately engulfed the room
Although it was weird, somehow I thought I should enjoy it. After all, I had prayed for rest plenty of times. Complained about Lagos plenty of times too. Still, the quiet pressed on my chest in a way that didn't seem normal.
I headed for my bathroom. Silent or not, I still had work to get to. Maybe it was just my compound. Maybe a good number of occupants had travelled.
I got to the bathroom and quickly brushed my teeth. I didn't have time to boil water so I quickly let the cold shower water rush down my body. Soon, I was dressing for work. Pausing at intervals waiting for Lagos to remember itself. Waiting for the city to clear its throat and say, Sorry, I overslept.
But till I left the house, it didn’t.
I stepped outside, to an open compound gate. No noise from any neighbor's apartment. Not even Mama Chinedu who wakes up too early to make breakfast. The road that led to the bus stop was unusually calm. A man swept gently in front of his shop.
I greeted him but instead of a reply, he nodded.
I held my hand bag tight under my armpit and scanned the streets for anything at all that felt odd. Already it was an odd morning in Lagos. I walked cautiously as if the noise might crack open suddenly and punish her for disturbing me.
I got to the bus stop to see cars driving in an orderly manner without their usual chaotic honking and dragging for space. One even slowed down to let another merge. The driver nodded politely, like this was normal behavior. No songs blasting from speakers. Unconsciously, I stopped and stared like I was on an alien planet.
I braced myself to run after a bus as usual but the madness was missing. No bus conductor or passengers dragging sleeves. No insults thrown casually like greetings.
No one shouting “Ojota! Ojota! Last bus!" From bus conductors
Instead, each bus had its destination written clearly on a board in front. Clear handwriting. Correct spelling.
To top it all up. Passengers were queuing to enter.
Queuing!
I gently got in without any hassle. Nobody is pushing me. The woman sitting beside me even adjusted her bag neatly and offered me a small smile. I nodded back, unsure why that tiny kindness felt more unsettling than silence itself. It felt like everyone had attended a meeting she missed.
I sat down and quickly checked my phones for headlines. Any reason at all Lagos was different that day. But nothing at all showed it was a new development. No curfews or strange government orders.
Nothing.
The driver quietly joined the lane and that was when it hit me that even the hawkers were gone.
Lagos looked… mannered for the first time.
And somehow it scared me. It really did
The Lagos that had taught me how to brace for impact and guard my bag. The Lagos that taught me how to sleep through the noise and think through the chaos was now pretending to be tush.
I got down my stop and just like every other place it was awfully quiet. I walked into the office, my shoes clacking so loudly as if it wasn't my regular work shoes.
I tried concentrating on work that day. I lost count how many times I stared at my computer screen blankly. The new face of Lagos was scary to me. Too neat. Too clean. My thoughts were louder now than the loud Lagos that filled every space.
I couldn't take it anymore, I had to lean toward my colleague, Bola.
“Is something… wrong with Lagos today?” I whispered at the same time wondering why.
Bola frowned, turning to look at me. “Wrong how?”
“Cant you see that there’s no noise,” I said quickly. My inquisitiveness winning. “No shouting. No horns. The buses were orderly. I swear, people were queuing. Everywhere is different."
Bola turned to me, with a curved soft smile.
“Zerah, this has always been Lagos. Are you okay?” she asked gently.
My chest tightened. I shook my head violently “No. No, it is not the Lagos I know.”
“Are you a novice in Lagos? Come on, you've been here for years and you know it's a normal Lagos lifestyle.”
I paused. Normal Lagos lifestyle? I thought. How's it even possible to put Lagos and silence together to the extent of calling it a lifestyle.
I sat back on my seat. Hola just confirmed to me that something was wrong somewhere. Maybe I was still asleep. Maybe I was tired. Maybe I wanted peace too badly and my mind had dressed the wish as a dream.
Suddenly my phone rang. The sound exploding into the quiet space. I felt all eyes on me like I had committed a crime.
I froze for half a second before rushing for my handbag and my phone. I quickly picked it up.
“Hello?” I said, in a soft, weak voice.
Immediately, I felt the world tilting.
I opened my eyes to the familiar smell of my room. My neighbor's generator was groaning in the backyard. A horn blared outside, long and angry. The normal Lagos, rude and alive with all the noise.
I quickly sat up, breathing hard.
I checked my time and it was morning already.
I had been dreaming.
I smiled. My phone buzzed again. This time I stared at it and laughed.
"Nice prank. Really nice" I muttered before picking up my phone.