sweating through shagamu (and somehow loving it)
rolled into shagamu with my backpack smelling like stale bus station coffee and instantly regretted wearing jeans. i just checked and it's 34 degrees but feels like 37 out there right now, hope you like sweating through your clothes cause it's basically a mandatory sauna session.
the whole place sits on this swampy limestone carpet that makes your shoes crunch weirdly - turns out they've got enough cement factories here to rebuild the entire country.
the markets? absolute chaos in the best way. mountains of kola nuts everywhere like some kind of caffeinated rock garden, and someone told me the oba's palace smells like burnt palm oil on tuesdays (never confirmed, but i believe it). walked past the ewu eleko shrine where these old dudes were arguing about which sacrifice the river gods preferred this week - chicken or goat. your call.
if you get bored (unlikely), lagos is just a short drive away through that infamous traffic jam they call the lagos-ibadan expressway - pack snacks and an existential crisis. spent three hours at some roadside stall eating pounded yam so spicy i saw my ancestors, while the local mechanic next door blasted fuji music that rattled my fillings. the real move? find the guy selling thorn carvings near the central mosque - got one that looks suspiciously like wizkid if you squint.
crashed at the hilltop hotel where the pool water was roughly the same temperature as bath tea, but hey - free nollywood movies on cable at 2am. bring earplugs though, the muslim call to prayer at dawn hits different when you're nursing a palm wine hangover. don't sleep on the medical college campus either - saw more action there than a nollywood drama series, complete with shouting matches over antibiotics. left with dusty shoes, a kola nut addiction, and zero regrets (except maybe those jeans).
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