Chronicles Of A Lagos Ajebutter‘Heroes Of Lasgidi’

I am an Ajebutter. Not by birth, or by formings, or by swag – I am simply an unapologetic Ajebutter by default. I didn’t choose to be born one. God, without seeking my opinion (because He’s God, I guess), gave me the genes of an Ajebutter and a funny Bri-Merican accent . By luck or some twisted work of fate, fortune, Karma (I might have killed ten defenseless puppies in my past life) or destiny, I have found myself in Lagos, crazy Lasgidi, and this is my story…

Lagos Ajebutter

Last week’s episode of this dear column was filled with over 50 shades of despair, laced with a slight leaking ray of hope. That hope paid big. Not in the way I expected, but man it was worth having. This week, I’ll still stay deep in my thoughts, so if you despise the original non-comical feel of good reasoning, then this month’s series is not for you.
I speak about pain this January. Not because I’m some junkie of sorrow. Neither am I trapped in some dark tunnel of depression, struggling with all my being to find the light. I do it because I want to keep it real. Come February, we’ll be all giggles and hiccups of delight.  Then we can smile.
Lagos throws up a number of suffering. A typical day-out in the streets feels like a journey through a labyrinth of pain. Everywhere is littered with various facets of elemental human challenges. People missing body parts, the person stuck in a dark place, with no help to call on.
Then there are people who’ve lost faith in the goodness of humanity, who life has thrown multiples curveballs, jinxing them with poverty and abject penury. They go through each passing day with just a thought – mere survival. Not a future in sight, not even a distant promise to hang onto. But they pray for the unexpected.
A miracle, perhaps some gift from fortune, maybe a little love, or the ultimate: a hero.
 Heroic deeds abound in Lagos. Everyday someone goes out of their way to put a smile on the face of a suffering stranger. They do this with a smile, and a heart bursting with love. Heroes are not the chubby men in suits, Cadillac, and Porsche, who do a good deed in passing, out of a desire to be left alone. They are people, big or small, high or low, who take the extra step to aid the unfamiliar suffering human.
But they are a rare breed, a dying species of love. Their numbers are dwindling too, as the suffering grows stronger each moment. Ask a hero why he does it, and you’ll be sure to receive a smile, and then silence. You will never understand, neither can words communicate the love in their hearts, from which flows their tangible charity.
They do it simply for the love. They do it for humanity, they do it for Lagos.  They save souls, they make the world a better place.
Save a soul today. Give out some hope to a defeated man. Make love, not war. This is not me preaching at you. This is Joey Akan, the erratic Ajebutter. This is my Chronicles.

• posted by FERANMI BLACK