Shagamu’s Green Groove: Can a Dancing Chameleon Survive Here?

shagamu’s got rhythm in its concrete veins-or at least that’s what my blistered feet keep insisting at 3am when the generator fumes slap me awake. i’m a pro dancer stranded here for a gig at the *Arómic Road Culture Hub, and let’s just say this town’s sustainability report card feels like a drunk limbo contest. the air tastes like burnt plastic on bad days, but hey, the Ìbàdàn-Lagos Expressway nearby means you can bolt to Lagos’ chaos or Ibadan’s crusty museums in under two hours when it gets too real. current mood? the sky’s sweating buckets today, and my pirouettes keep sticking to potholes filled with last week’s rain.

dirty soles, dirtier streets

you wanna talk trash? shagamu produces roughly 300 metric tons of waste daily (Ogun State Waste Board report, 2022), and boy does it show. tried filming a routine near Oyingbo Market last tuesday-stepped on six plastic sachets and a dead chicken before the chorus hit. rent’s cheap though-N50k/month gets you a box with questionable wiring, which explains why half my gig money goes to charging power banks at Mama Tunde’s Café. overheard a bàǹgà drummer muttering: "they call it ‘pure water’ but my stomach’s protested thrice this week."

the Ìjàlè Creek whispers

found a shocker: grassroots collectives like the Egba Eco-Warriors planting ukwa trees along polluted waterways. met a tie-dye artist dumping zero chemical runoff into the creek near Sabo Quarters-her instagram’s a mood (@AdireRebellion). but safety? police patrols thin after dark on Shagamu-Ikorodu Road; stick to crowds unless you fancy becoming tomorrow’s r/Nigeria crime thread topic. job market’s brutal too-formal gigs scarce, but hustlers thrive. Frank, a wheelbarrow recycler, told me he pulls N3k daily hauling PET bottles: "better than waiting for government magic."

green beats in concrete jungles

the wildcard? Obasanjo Horticultural Village-15 acres of manicured lies hiding behind barbed wire. locals say politicians photo-op there while groundwater’s laced with factory runoff (Yelp reviews aren’t kind). danced with teens at a repurposed fuel depot turned dancehall-roof’s 60% zinc, 40% flattened Pure Water sacks. sustainability here’s patchwork, like my homemade knee pads. but the Sotubo artisans? legends weaving scrap metal into sculpture gods. check their Etsy knockoff on Jiji.ng-tell ‘em the twerking yogi sent you.

bottom line: shagamu’s greener than Lagos but browner than Abeokuta’s fantasies. would i rhythmically survive here full-time? only if they fix that Akinsanya Dumpster* stench blowing into every open-air rehearsal. pack pepto, solar lamps, and zero illusions.

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