LAGOS has always held a fascination for me. The sculpture masterpiece by Ben Ekanem of the warrior Queen Amina of Zazzau straddling a horse, sword in hand, at the National Theatre, Iganmu had quite a hold on the visiting schoolboy back in the 80s. So did the iconic theatre itself. And so too did the awesome waves that ceaselessly pounded the Bar Beach, attracting enchanted visitors as well as small-time pickpockets and budding magicians. And what about the intricate colonial architectures overlooking the marina, and the stocked libraries where you momentarily got lost in the world of books before it hit you that you were very far from home?
Lagos was bold and loud, buzzing with its teeming crowd. In those days the molue was not just a mass carrier; it had a life of its own, complete with all manner of hawkers selling everything from shaving sticks to medicine for all ailments.
In the daytime the city was a wonder. At night it was another world crawling with…