I Believe Lagos Traffic Has Feelings

After years of extensive field research conducted from inside yellow buses, ride-hailing cars, and stationary danfos pretending to be in motion, I have reached one unavoidable conclusion: Lagos traffic is alive.

There is simply no other explanation.

Notice how traffic behaves whenever you're running late for an important meeting. The roads sense your urgency, exchange secret signals with nearby junctions, and immediately arrange a three-hour reunion of tankers, buses, keke riders, and one confused goat.

But leave your house with absolutely nowhere to go, and suddenly the roads become as smooth as a freshly commissioned campaign promise.

Coincidence? I think not.

Lagos traffic also possesses an extraordinary sense of humour. It waits patiently until you tell someone, "I'm just ten minutes away," before introducing an articulated truck that appears to have been reversing since the Second Republic.

Its favourite hobby, however, is creating false hope.

You finally begin moving. Everyone smiles. Drivers thank God. Passengers sit up with renewed optimism.

Then, for absolutely no reason, every vehicle stops again. No accident. No broken-down trailer. No roadblock. Just vibes.

Scientists have spent decades searching for intelligent life beyond Earth, yet nobody has investigated the emotional intelligence of the Third Mainland Bridge at 8 a.m.

I am convinced the traffic enjoys watching us negotiate with our bosses, apologise to our spouses, cancel appointments, and slowly accept that "five minutes away" in Lagos is a philosophical concept rather than a measurable distance.

At this point, I no longer fight traffic.

I greet it. It seems to appreciate the respect.