VENETIAN SHORES

  I have never imagined what it feels like to be completely cut off from the outside world. I suppose being born in a bubbly town makes it hard for me to picture myself existing without basic amenities and contesting for survival with nothing but my might against the strong force of nature. I cannot envision the life but over 30,000 people have for many centuries and still do.

  For some reason, I have become more passionate about people who cannot afford the little that I enjoy. See, It has not been about how much I can spend but about focusing on things that would affect the  lives of everyone I come in contact with ( honestly,it has not been entirely positive but I am making adjustments to that). My trip to Makoko is hinged on this belief of mine. 

  I have heard and read a lot about Makoko area In Lagos but nothing prepared me for the sight of nature at its best and worst forms. I can still feel the rush of adrenaline as I jump-walked with my camera( ok, office property but mine for the day) swung around my neck.  I needed to see The Venice of Nigeria with my bare eyes.

  From the very busy Adekunle bus stop, my visit seemed rather mundane; the sun was at its flamboyant best, the noise rather too familiar. It was the regular Lagos hustle and bustle; Marwas packed in a chronological order, women and men walking determinedly to their never ending destinations. We boarded one of the waiting Marwas to Makoko roundabout. We( my teammates and I) had hired some young residents to act as tour guides. My heartbeat began to thump faster from this point!

  The ghetto, I must admit, is the veritable Lagos ghetto standard life. I expected to see local bars, weed smoking joints, visibly intoxicated young and old, refuse dumps, blah, blah. So, I was not surprised as my expectations were met. 

Excitingly, We passed by Baba Sule's house ( hopefully, I heard that correctly). Green water filled the entrance and children played dangerously on planks that I could swear might break at the slightest pressure. When I asked one of the residents how the children managed to get to their house, she replied with a smile of amusement at my obvious cluelessness "they swim back to their house, after all it is their house". It sounded like a long tale till I saw the waterside.

  I overheard a woman speak angrily to her child in an all too familiar OhafIa dialect. She was angry about someone taking her drink without her permission. Hold on a second... Yes, Igbo people also live in Makoko but from what I gathered, they stick to the area residents term "New Makoko".     Accommodation is cheap in Makoko; newly built houses cost as low as one hundred thousand naira while old ones cost thirty to fifty thousand annually.

  Needless to say that the ghetto life did not give me a good run for my overdrive spirits. I had to see the Makoko without makeup. The waterside is the real Makoko in my opinion; the slum we have heard so much about. This community consist majorly of Eguns( a tribe originally from Benin Republic) with people from Ogun and Badagry as the minority. They speak what I call a very sexy Yoruba that confuses the heck out of me. The women have what I can only describe as tattoos all over their bodies but I noticed a lot of them had a single dot on their foreheads; I was too scared to ask if it was simply stylish or implied something hopefully, I'd be bolder on my next visit. 

  We were supposed to take a canoe to the famous school on water so I tried to communicate with my sailor, a futile effort in summary. I could catch the lines of amusement around the corners of his lips as he stared at me. Our guide took up the herculean task and was able to explain to the sailor our mission and our destination. After some minutes of haggling, I stepped into the sturdy canoe screaming to the amusement of the little children who had gathered to watch my Oyinbo colleague.

 As I examined the life in the murky water, I could not help but be thankful for the fact that I have access to clean water at no cost. Lots of children swam care freely in the water filled with dirt and God knows what else. I tried to capture as many scenes as possible but the people in the water did not seem very friendly. I do not blame them as they have been poked, snapped and scoped like lab rats for years. Regardless, the residents of the waterside are not the scary savages most articles paint them to be. They are just as human as everyone of us. We met and spoke to one of the Baales and it might amaze you to know that he spoke to us in clear and almost impeccable English. Contrary to the notion that this area is hazardous and unfit for humans to live, I think that the area is beautiful. I see diamond in the rough. To be fair to all, it might need a little cleaning up but I stand with the preservation of such a phenomenon. A lot can be done with Makoko without disrupting the system or lives of the people.

I did see their schools both inside and outside the waterside but I only got permission to take pictures of one of the schools outside the waterside area. There is more that can be done for these people through education. They need standard schools built on water if possible. They need standard and affordable education.

   Life in the waterside area of Makoko is a rare and true example of nature and human cohabiting. Sometimes, man wins and sometimes, nature wins. It does not matter that I had to tend to my sun burnt face after my visit, I have nothing but love and joy in my heart at my achievement. I have started my life of purpose!