Its Night, and my heart is in Lagos

It is 9.30pm in the city of Lagos as I walk down the steps of my office building on the way to the parking lot. Outside the sky is like black satin with occasional flashes of lightning in the distance signaling the coming of rain to the island. As I settle into my car, I am grateful to God for this night, like every other night. For although I have seen over eight thousand nights in my lifetime, each one is different from the last, and each one ushers in a better morning. Each night tells a different story, some days the stories are funny and other days the stories are serious. Some days, the stories are wistful and filled with longing, and other days the stories are hurried. But in every night are some things that do not change. For at night I can see what others may never see and hear what others may never hear. I see the weathered faces of the gatemen and their relief because at last they can rest their tired bones. In my imagination, I see the mischief on the face of the white cat that resides in the parking lot because finally she can come out to play without anyone shooing her away.

As I drive out of the office and away from the security lights, the darkness envelops me in its tantalizing satiny folds and I resent having to turn my headlamps on. I sigh in relief as I settle deeper into the seat, the leather caressing my skin because I have taken my jacket off. I turn the music on and 'Light Years Away' by Mozella is playing. The music soothes away all the remaining anxiety I may have taken with me out of the office. I ease the car onto Bourdillon road, where the streetlamps are working and the road is smooth as a baby's bottom. Ahh the stage is set for me to dream.

At Night, I am free to dream. Not the dreams of one who is asleep, but the one of someone who is wide awake and knows the things they want. Not the unattainable dreams of someone who goes through life dreaming and not doing, but those of someone who strives to achieve, and achieves their dreams. Yes I am such a dreamer and the night gives me leave to dream. Night takes away every thought of impossibility from my mind and tells me that as surely as it must fall that my dreams will come true.

At Night I am free from the soot and sounds from Buses and Okada riders. I am free from street hawkers trying to coerce me into buying things I neither want nor need. I see shop owners closing down for the day and in my mind I can hear their sighs of relief. The struggle of the day is over and whether they have sold anything or not, they can go to their beds. I hear them calling out to each other, wishing each other a good night and praying for dreams of a better tomorrow. You see, they can only do this when night falls. The relief I can see all around me is mirrored on the faces of Sex sellers and night security guards for night gives them the opportunity to earn a living. Even the madman is grateful for nightfall, for the drop in temperature to ease the burning from walking barefooted all day, grateful for the respite of the madness as he finds solace in sleep.

At night I can hear the sounds of music, the food of my soul. Music from within and that of the outside. I hear the music my soul sings for it rejoices. I hear the music my heart sings, because it is happy. It is night and I am restored. I hear the music on the outside. The music of crickets and frogs. The music from the constant 'whoosh' as cars speed by me to their respective destinations and those from bars just opening up for business. I swear that I can almost hear the stars tinkle as they twinkle. It is night and anything is possible.

So as I drive home to my bed, I dream, and I smile as I do so. I listen for the music for I know it will come. This is night, it is in me, and I am in it.

Sent from my BlackBerry wireless device from MTN