Muhsin Ibrahim
@muhsin234
Starting with an apology to the 19th-century great novelist, Charles Dickens, whose title inspired this piece, the contexts of the two texts cannot, however, be related. The article chronicles my short stays in Mumbai, India, and Lagos, Nigeria, comparing the two and contrasting them with my birthplace, Kano. This was motivated by the striking parallels I have discovered between the two cities. For instance, both are the commercial capitals of their countries; both neighbour seas; both are like convergent points for different ethnic groups; both have headquarters of one of the world’s leading film industries; both are lands of opportunity; both are populated by the posh and the poor, etc. This is a continuation of my Facebook status update from a couple of days ago, while I was still in Lagos.
In response to the status update, some people said I haven’t seen anything in Lagos yet. Those people are only slightly wrong. I have, of course, seen something, but, indeed, not everything. My seeing is different from that of other people who care not to see with the type of eyes I have to see things. I learnt lessons, inferred meaning and, seldom, drew a conclusion from the actions and inactions of so many people I interacted with during my less than 48-hour stay in this crowded city that wakes up much earlier than the rest of the country, or, at least, the country’s far northern region.
I was not, by and large, disappointed by what I saw in and around the riverine city. In more ways than one, going through the city had my memories of Mumbai reverberate and rekindle. I was at the latter for three days in June 2015 on transit to Nigeria. I did not stay in my hotel room as many people do; my wife and I, along with two other friends, spent days touring the city’s picturesque areas and famous places. One of the most striking similarities one can quickly notice between the two cities is how everyone looks: engaged, nay, hasty. The word “docility” does not exist in their dictionary. The cities are not, apparently, places for the lazy.
As the multi-billion-naira film industries in Mumbai and Lagos are slums, there are. The exotic Indian Bollywood was named after Mumbai’s former name, Bombay. Today, it is the world’s largest entertainment industry. The Nigerian Nollywood occupies the second position in terms of production, not quality – I guessed you might be thinking which scale was used. Likewise, Mumbai housed the world’s largest slums. Without any data at hand, I have rated Lagos as having the largest ones in Africa.
The secret to living happily in both cities is money, at least enough to feed and pay for one’s daily services and utilities. No one does anything for anyone free of charge. Perhaps that is why the people don’t live idly. Almost everyone is up to something. There is, however, a considerable difference between the two commercial hubs. In Mumbai, things are dirt cheap compared to what you can find in other Indian urban areas, while the story is remarkably different in Lagos. Things are expensive, and services are much more so.
I saw people paying N100 to pee in an open, unkempt place. I also paid to pee, but I couldn’t do it outside. I insisted on using the dishevelled toilet nearby, as that would at least give me some sort of privacy. Some people demanded money to offer even a small measure of humanitarian assistance, like providing directions to a stranger. A simple photocopy of a page costs N500 while a direct printing of a similar page attracts up to N1000! In Kano, these services cannot attract more than N20 or N100, respectively. For other assistance, oftentimes, no one would bother to collect your Kobo.
In Mumbai, Africans are racially, subtly, though, mocked and called “Baba”. We were also derisively greeted by touts, drivers and other lowly-spirited dimwits, while others dealt with us suspiciously as “most of [us] are scammers, drug traffickers and specialists in all sorts of shady businesses”, an Indian acquaintance confided to me. There is no such thing in Lagos, a city in West Africa. However, different ethnic groups are stereotyped here. Oftentimes, a Hausa man is called aboki. The word means “friend” in Hausa and has, elsewhere, no negative connotation. Not in Lagos, and perhaps other southern states. It is a carrier of contempt and condescension. Somebody may use it without any ulterior motive; nevertheless, a northerner should not always regard the word as an insult to his identity. There are always exceptions.
No doubt, there are, of course, several unschooled or less educated northerners. It is frequently mistaken that every northerner is ethnically Hausa. This is false. Several northerners/Hausa people are also doing white-collar jobs. From the little I observed, though, the overall (mis)perception of Hausa men is thus: they are not wise, educated and cannot speak any good English. I was a ‘victim’ of such sweeping stampings twice, though only one deserves narrating.
I booked a flight online. I arrived at the airport and went straight to the airline counter with my e-ticket, asking them to print a copy for me. The guy did that after showing another customer the e-ticket on my phone and asked her to check her email. In sum, he did his work effectively. I moved to the other side to collect my boarding pass. The lady receptionist held back the printed ticket after giving me the boarding pass. I calmly asked her to hand it back to me. She not only refused to do just that, but she snobbishly smiled and told me that I didn’t need it. I shook my head and left, saying, under my breath, “Alhamdulillah, I can print it out myself once I get home”. I know I don’t need it to board the flight, but what is a record for?
For her information, I was once exasperated because I was asked to board yet another flight after crisscrossing continents on other airliners. I don’t consider boarding a flight to travel a luxury. It’s more or less a necessity. With the ongoing, seemingly unabated kidnapping cases on our roads, whoever can avoid using the roads should do so. This is beside the usual incidents of armed robbery and accidents that have claimed thousands of lives of poor Nigerians.
In Mumbai, however, a customer is a king. Whether you are Punjabi, Malayalee, Kashmiri, whatnot, or Muslim, Sikh, Hindu, etc., or black, white, yellow, etc., everyone is treated equally. On this note, I greatly admire their business acumen and place it above ours. Often, Indians will warmly welcome you into their shop and offer you tea or coffee as you bargain. They will also give you their business card to give to others.
In commercial hubs, one expects a lot of hustle and bustle all over the place. There are, of course, people all around; everyone minds their business. There are so many vehicles on the roads. I admire the discipline of motorists and other road users in Lagos, compared to what I am used to in Kano. Since the infamous corruption charges against the leadership of the Kano Road Transport Authority (KAROTA), the once-feared traffic warders have been weakened, and road users emboldened. Although this has its significance, its drawback is evident every day in the way people break road laws. Virtually everyone parks their vehicle wherever he/she choose, and cares less, some not at all, about traffic lights, and other road offences. The same is not seen in Mumbai and Lagos.
The above is not exhaustive. There are many more divergent and convergent points between these cities. I reminisced about my few days in Mumbai throughout my stay in Lagos. I observed that even their airports are alike: while Mumbai’s was only recently overtaken as the busier of the two than New Delhi’s, Lagos’s is still ahead of Abuja’s, and so on. There are many more stories to tell, but they cannot all be told in a single article. As a last note, I recommend that any Nigerian visit Lagos. I think Abuja has yet to outshine Lagos in terms of infrastructure, cleanliness, at least in the highbrow areas, and so on. Open your eyes by visiting Lagos.
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