I think another reason for my immunity to Lagosian stress is my background in Onitsha. Compared to Onitsha, Lagos seems like a walk in the park. I’ve been to the infamous parts of Lagos and I’m still not scared. Growing up in Onitsha has made me very security conscious. If you can live and thrive in Onitsha, nothing will scare you again.— Chukwuma Ezeh, Jakande
Our questions are italicized.
What is your favourite memory about the street you grew up in?
I grew up in Tony Umeh Street, Awada Obosi, a rough neighbourhood in Onitsha. One of my favourite memories is going to some of the fields. Every street had a ‘field’ which was basically an empty plot of land where kids played sports, usually football. It was on one of these fields that I learnt to somersault. Now, I can do gymnastics and acrobatics.
What is the longest you have ever had to travel for something?
I travelled to Abuja from Anambra by road in 2018 and 2019 respectively. In 2018, I went to Abuja to apply for a Visa. I spent 6 hours on the way there and coming back took all day.
What is your daily commute?
I work from home so I don’t have a daily commute. Most days I am at home. Some days, I move from the Island to the mainland. On Sundays, I go to church and I travel when I need to.
When I first moved from Onitsha to Lagos, I was moving around quite a lot because I was volunteering with Chess in Slums Africa and my routine was based on the activities we had lined up. So, one week we’d be in Ikorodu, the next, we were in Makoko. When we did the Oshodi Underbridge Project, I had to go there every day for two weeks. But there were also times that I did not go anywhere for a month.
Moving from Onitsha to Lagos, how were you able to find your way around Lagos?
In my first weeks here, I stayed in Ikorodu and did not know many places in the city. Going forward, thanks to the Chess in Slums project, I got to explore. My colleagues recommended neighbourhoods I could live in and I settled for Yaba. So, I was going from Yaba to Ikorodu, Makoko, and everywhere we held tournaments. I was going to Ikeja, Airport Road, Ojo, to speak and meet with our partners as a team lead. My time with Chess in Slums Africa helped me navigate Lagos better because we moved around quite a bit. In my relatively short time in Lagos, I’ve been to Isheri, Igando, LASU, Ibeju-Lekki and practically every nook and cranny of Lagos apart from Badagry.
What inspired your move to Lagos?
In 2020, I was stuck at home because of the global pandemic and lockdown order. I wanted to do something to spread joy to the world, howbeit virtually. So I started my business, Happivibe, which is basically a happiness-sharing service. We help people reach out to their loved ones to appreciate them, console them, encourage them, apologise to them, and make them happy over the phone. I shared the idea with my online community and they loved it. I was in the east and most of my clients were in Lagos. I realised that Lagos was a better environment to grow my business. I could deliver more value here since it is the home of entertainment, business, and tech. So, I moved here in 2021 and discovered that I liked it.
What was your first impression of Lagos?
Before moving to Lagos, I thought Lagos was going to be a really crazy, stressful place. You know. the usual: wake up to traffic, come back late in the night because of traffic. And I’ll be honest, it is probably one of the most stressful cities in the world. However, because the nature of my work allows me to go out only when I want to, I don’t really experience that side of Lagos.
I think another reason for my immunity to Lagosian stress is my background in Onitsha. Compared to Onitsha, Lagos seems like a walk in the park. I’ve been to the infamous parts of Lagos — Oshodi, Ajegunle — and I’m still not scared. Growing up in Onitsha has made me very security conscious. If you can live and thrive in Onitsha, nothing will scare you again.
What is the craziest thing that happened to you in Onitsha?
Once, my phone was snatched right out of my hand. I mean, I was typing on my phone and someone yanked it out. My brother has been robbed at gunpoint. You see people getting robbed and beaten up in broad daylight. Anyone who tries to intervene will get robbed and beaten up as well. I was almost robbed at Oguta road. A man attempted to steal my phone in a keke napep. It was in my pocket but I had connected it to my Bluetooth headset. So when he alighted and the music stopped playing, I knew something had happened. Best believe I came down from the bus and chased after him. When he saw me charging after him, he acted like my phone had simply fallen to the ground. If it hadn’t been for the area boys coming towards us, I would have roughed him up a bit.
One street code in Onitsha is that once boys start to dey circle you, just know the hunter will soon become the hunted.
Car, Okada, Bus- what do you consider the best mode of transport for getting around Lagos?
If you have your own car, use am. If you get money, enter Uber. If not, enter bus. In the case of traffic, fly okada.
Until the ban, I was always ‘flying’ bikes. I have taken an okada from Ikorodu to Yaba, from Yaba to Alimosho, Lekki to Abraham Adesanya in Ajah. I almost got hurt taking one to Ajah. It’s pretty dangerous to use but it gets you to your destination faster. I’m hybrid and flexible and, in the case of traffic, I’ll get down from the vehicle and take an Okada. However, if you are going somewhere you don’t know, it might make more sense to use a ride-hailing service like Uber.
What is a route you know by heart?
There are a lot. I stay very close to Jakande and if I was going to Oworonsoki, for example, I’d take a bus from Jakande to Obalende. Then I’d take a bus to Oshodi where there’ll be a bus going to Third Mainland Bridge and I’d stop at Oworonsoki. Or, I could find a bus going to Oshodi straight from Jakande which will take me through Oworonshoki. Or, I could take a bus heading to Lekki Phase 1 and take a bus to Oworonsoki. It’s pretty straightforward.
What is one place everyone should visit before they turn 20?
There’s a stream in Umuchu, my village in Anambra, and we call it Ugbò. It’s a beautiful, mountainous spot with a valley and spring. For me, it is a perfect picture of nature. My forefathers used to fetch water there and even today, people still fetch water there. The water runs so clear that it is preferred to sachet water.
What is a notable difference between Onitsha and Lagos?
I’d say culture.
I grew up in Onitsha and I live in Lagos now. Lagos culture supports creativity more. Onitsha is more rural, communal, and triangular — church, work, school. From what I can recall, there was no deliberate provision for recreational activities. At the time I lived there, there was no cinema in the entire state of Anambra. In Lagos here, there are a lot of events, parties, cinemas, waterparks etc. You can go anywhere and do anything you want to do.
What do you miss about Onitsha?
I miss the food. I miss the rice and beans and plantains, soups like ofe akwu, egusi, oha, okra. Lagos is not part of Igboland so there are some foods that you cannot get the correct Igbo version of. I miss my mother’s yam porridge, yam and egg sauce. Lagos’ jollof rice is pretty good but it’s quite different from the one I had at home. Lagos’ stew is different as well. Here, you just blend tatase, rodo, tomato and onions and add a lot of oil. In Onitsha, you’ll put fresh fish, meat, vegetables, spices, nutmeg, thyme, and curry. We’re quite elaborate in our cooking.
I also miss the language. In Onitsha, there are a lot more dialects of Igbo because it’s a metro area, a meeting point for people from different rural areas. For example, I’m not from Onitsha although I was born and raised there. I’m from Umuchu, a town in Anambra. We’re one hour away from Onitsha and our dialects are quite similar but still different. It is like how, in Lagos, an Epe person’s dialect is not the same as that of someone from Badagry, even though they both hail from Lagos. I love the language but I don’t miss it enough to want to go back. I’ve lived there all my life and this change is very welcome.
What’s one distinct, irreplaceable feature of Lagos?
The energy. I’ve been to some of the poorest parts of Lagos (Ajegunle, Makoko, Ikorodu) and the wealthiest parts (Banana Island, Eko Atlantic City)- a common denominator is the jaiye jaiye energy. From the agberos to the guy in the tinted S Class Mercedes, the upbeat energy is glaring and contagious.
When was the last time you visited a new street?
This Sunday. I went to a new street in Oniru, Lekki for a church meeting.
What is the most you’ve had to pay to get from one place to another?
That’ll have to be my air ticket. I paid 62,000 Naira for a flight to Asaba and 50,000 Naira back to Lagos. This is a big leap from the former price of 25,000 Naira. It was my first flight and I shared my experience on Twitter. It might not seem like a big deal but it inspired a lot of people to find the beauty and joy in things that we might consider ordinary.
What is one thing you always look forward to seeing on your street?
For me, it is not so much about my street itself as much as the area as a whole. I like that my area is really chill, really calm. There’s food in every corner- a stand for noodles, a buka for rice, a shop for fufu- and it doesn’t tear my pocket. It also helps that there is a nice balance of classes, a good mixture of ajebutter and ajepako. The indigenes of Eti Osa live among us and then people are developing property here. So you can get Mama Put’s spaghetti and the big man’s burger on the same street. The best of both worlds.
The last location you texted or tweeted about is where you’ll live next. It is: ___
Victoria Island.
Chukwuma Ezeh is a self-described ‘happy soul’. He resides in Lagos where he volunteers and coordinates an online community, Happivibe, which is dedicated to ‘making the world a happier place one call at a time’.
About Routes
Routes by GatePass is mapping African stories one route at a time. This project sits at the intersection of life stories and mobility in African contexts. Through Routes, we explore how African lives are shaped by mobility, migration, journeys, and modes of transport; and how places take on the stories of the people who have visited or passed through them.
Do you or someone you know have an interesting mobility story? Do you have a hack for moving around your city, or know something about your city’s history that not too many people know? Tell your story. We’re open to submissions and looking forward to reading!
Email: routes[at]gatepass[dot]io
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Editorial Team
Editor / Publisher — Wale Lawal
Sub-Editor — Muyideen Dosumu
Interviewer — Ore Oyinlola
Illustrator — David Akinyemi
