#LAGOS_HUSTLES (WOMAN, RESPECT THYSELF!)

I got myself a spot at representing my Alma mater with five others at an international Geoscience - related competition. I looked forward to being on the island yet again, to enjoying the beautiful views of the beaches and the coastlines, where I could go to and just let the cool breeze caress me or let the tides chase me, to admiring the lush buildings that spoke of extraordinary class, like the Radisson Blu, the Oriental, the Intercontinental, the Peninsula, the Four Points by Sheraton, to gazing at the high class cars being driven too meticulously for fear of getting unceremoniously bashed. I looked forward to seeing the overly dramatic and coordinated people (the ajebo),  some of who feigned phonetics with American and British accents that almost made one feel inferior for not having traveled abroad, they always made a part of me laugh about how fake some people could be. A part of me would always think that the hustle is always real in Lagos, that everyone is a hustler in Lagos, be they on the island or on the mainland and lowland (the outskirts). Everyone. Lagos always has an effect on the people who live there.

At the venue of the event, during one of the dinner sessions, it was always an avenue to let oneself at ease, after the tensions and nerve - cracking presentation sessions where every participant was a little too edgy. Presentations always made one edgy with nervousness, no matter how good one is at public speaking. Dinner, in its buffet style, was an awesome opportunity to network with industry personnel, the kind of opportunity that was inevitable, so everyone was involved. Having carefully placed what I called appropriate proportions of balanced diet meal on my plate, I made my way to the table where my mates were seated.

The atmosphere was social, calm and jovial, where everyone was at peace. Glasses clinked, spoons, forks and knives hit the fine china plates with the gentle kind of tap common with stainless steels. People were talking and laughing, I wasn't left out. Someone in my table was cracking all of us up and it took severe effort to restrain myself from laughing too loudly. Darn! Everyone was struggling on the very edge of courteousness (famzing).

In the middle of all the gregariousness, I caught sight of this lady just across from my table. A pretty one, she was. But it was not the prettiness that struck me. It was the act she put up that got me shocked, confused at my own disbelief. The lady in question apparently picked up everything from the buffet onto her plate until she collected a mountain of different assorted food. She went on to bring out series of nylon bags from her hand bag where she meticulously poured the food into and the bottles of drinks were not left out as she willfully placed about four bottles of drinks in one of the nylon bags. When all the nylon bags were laden with food, she went back to the buffet and collected more, asking the waitress for extra take - away packs, to which she was given a generous amount. She had not a care in the world for whoever was looking. I could have sworn this girl wasn't married, for I could have pardoned her if she was going to feed her children or the dog, but this was a pure spinster who was going to take the food straight back to the hotel room and down it all in one stomach. Because the table where she sat was next to the one where I sat, I could just as easily hear the conversation between her and one of her mates (a guy) :

" Are you going to finish all that food? " The guy asked. 
" No, I can't finish it. " She replied. 
" If you cannot finish the food then why did you take so much? This is not the last day of the event! This is bad! " The guy probed further, astonishment written all over his face as much as it was on mine. 
" I will wake up by 2 am in the early hours of the morning to finish everything. No big deal! " The girl countered in defense, the I-dont-care tone in her voice very evident.

I turned away, unknown to me that my mates at my table had seen the little drama acted out. The guys made a joke of it, while a female classmate whispered in a low voice about how she must have forgotten that she was a young lady with this horrific expression I couldn't describe. But this case scenario is very common especially at weddings and parties and the likes, where women struggle for food like we are in the Nigerian Civil War era, where it was survival of the fittest strongly at its peak. The irony of it all is that this food that is being fought for is something that will end up being excreted after digestion. A waste eventually. It's ludicrous to see such happening where some women behave like they haven't seen food in ages.

Oh, Nigerian woman, I am not against you going to a party or event and taking extra food with the intent of taking it home. It is a mainstream kind of thingalmost - but not all - everyone does. But except you are going to feed your children or dogs or some other person other than yourself who isn't at the event but at home, please wise up and don't give in to the shameful act of gluttony. It's bad for your image. Get a grip, give yourself prestige and respect thyself. You never know who is secretly watching.

Lagos, where the hustle is always real and everyone is a hustler!