No Man's Land

By

Mutiu Animashawun

admatt30@yahoo.com

 

Riddled with adjustment to every man-made constraint known under the sky, it is where ignorance is bliss.  Where is that truer than cosmopolitan Lagos?  Individualism is as real as the filthy air, trash-strewn streets, and baking heat combined.  Amidst the hustling and bustling, beggars still eke a living in its mean streets-- from three pieces suit to birthday suit ones.  An all-embarrassing tolerance is what is high in livability factor of Lagos.  Come all, come one!

 

"No man's land" spawns habitual uncleanliness-- not necessarily personal hygiene but lack of pride in communal one-- so much that it qualifies as a sort of deranged mentality, feeding on no one cares about how individual actions directly shorten the overall quality of life for everyone.  Surprisingly, that mentality has followers from new arrival to those who are yet to find suitable footing in the ebbs and flows of this money-hungry and fun-loving state.

As much as the residents wish it were about grabbing money bags only, life is more than that.  Trash deserves attention.  Huge swaths of the state are street markets for anything and everything to garden variety of humans.  That is reflected in the ever-growing mountain of hi-tech packaging materials litters versus common trash.  Well, almost every goods are imported from overseas.  The lion share of which comes from China.  Those modern conveniences in heavy packages from faraway places spawn pollution problems at the end-users, if not on par with the Chinese industrial smoke stacks or vehicular emissions of the developed nations.       

 

As sand dunes are to the landscape of Sahara desert so are trash dunes to Lagos state.  Not too long ago, they are ignored and considered other things to make adjustment to as parts of market reality.  If they are eye-sores to visitors, residents-- a good percentage is  well-traveled, and a better percentage is well-informed-- accept them as parts of the landscape.

 

Trash dunes demand attention through natural feedback, which is certainly wired into almost everything to checkmate humans.  In rain season, dunes erode in size just as the wind whips sand dunes about.  Trash chokes the drainage system, causing massive flood in surroundings to impede commerce and comfortable living.  Still water-- in gutters, open cans, used tires, and others-- is heaven for breeding mosquitoes and hell for nearby residents because of high demand for blood.  The ensuing malaria fever turns them into sparring partners-- through repeated uses of anti-malaria drugs-- on its way to becoming drug-resistant form, the so-called super bug.   

 

Either your olfactory organs agree with the lingering smell or not, the stench from dunes is one sign of ongoing industrial activities by micro-organisms, insects, rodents, and others.  These workers may not build chimneys to vent gases and other by-products.  But odorless gas like methane (cooking gas) builds up and rises to the top: a good explanation of why old dunes burn when smoldering cigarette butts or flints land at their highest points. If such should threatening properties or lives or both, passers-by and residents organize them into emergency fire brigade before the long arrival of the Lagos State Fire Brigade with a question mark-- proper equipments  Otherwise, who cares?

 

Dunes are factories of biological decaying as well as bio-hazard outsize petri-dishes.  And they are also outsize chemical test-tubes as the baking heat works through.  The resulting concoction of chemicals weakens the tarmac.  As for the top-soil, the effects are dual.  On one hand, it may improve nitrogen content and other factors of non-farmland.  Depleted top-soil is a precursor to dusty wind, muddy rain-wash, and sinkhole. 

 

Rain washes disease causing micro-organisms and toxic soup into the rivers, streams, and much-abused Lagoon.  The same will seep into underground water tables, which have been serving as sources of portable water since demise of Lagos State Water Authority-- in charge of water-borne pipes-- via deep-bored holes.  Whatever can go wrong will surely go wrong according to Murphy's Law: wells do dry up or become toxic soup so that no known state-of-the-art water treatment machine can effectively purify such.

 

To complete the puzzle of deranged mentality, traders-- some are two or more generations deep in the state-- loathe federal aids to help Lagos State in dealing with problems of waste disposal.  Amazing Nigerians!