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Osisiye Tafa: Here’s How to Spend a Saturday in Lagos



Wake up early!
Aha! I know I’ve lost half of my readership in one swift three-word-sentence, but this is with good reason too. Don’t believe I was ill-advised. Stay with me. I’m a master storyteller.

You wake up early even though there’s a beautiful lady splayed across your bed. Spooning at 5 a.m. (as we all know) is a spiritual experience.

Head to the jetty and board a banana boat. This will take you to Makoko. On the scenic route there, enjoy the view of the bridges that traverse the city – concrete structures that have watched time pass and witnessed transformation.

Now, you’re at Makoko, centre of glamourised poverty. Some will take shots: a happy child smiling among the rubble, a beautiful woman rowing her canoe and selling her wares among the decadent buildings and happy puppies at play on the floating houses. Images to remind you that there is happiness here and these are a people living peacefully among the poverty and rot. This is a lie. Makoko is a beacon of our collective failure: a place in need of intervention not sporadic soup kitchens and photo shoots.

You pick up Taiye, a fisherman who doubles as a guide. Then you head to the filling station, a woman on a canoe with bottles of fuel mixed with engine oil. They will tell you you need 30 litres for the trip, don’t let them play you, you need just 20 litres.

As you head out of Makoko, you see it, the city bathed in golden light, canoes dotting the water like dark outlines on liquid gold. You take a minute, maybe more, to take in this moment. You even swallow. It’s beautiful, the way the sun shines, not to provide heat but to give beauty. The way the water accepts these rays then spreads it all over. The clean, cold air. Then you understand the story of Makoko, that even in these pitiable conditions, there is beauty. Even in despair, there is hope. It is beauty and poverty co-existing side-by-side.
You head out to Ikorodu to meet the fishing communities on their dashes.
Here is the Asikowa (Yoruba word for ‘It is our Time’) Fishing Community. Fishing communities are structured with a leader and they meet to decide on fishing times and activities. They even have an off-day, Thursday. You row out to the leader, he’s the oldest one wearing a frayed cap and bored expression. You ask for permission. He looks at you then nods. There is nothing new in Lagos.

It is time to fish. The boats row out and form a circle around a portion of water. At a signal, they throw their nets into the circle, then pull. There’s gracefulness in the throw and strength in the pull. Be careful, your boat hand is an idiot so he will row into the circle and one of the fishermen’s nets will get snagged on his boat. I told you. Now you have to apologize and watch as the fisherman pulls it, gentle enough not to tear it but with a sense of urgency cos no one should have his net in a wrap when it’s fishing time.

A fishing boat consists of 2-3 persons: one throws the net, the other paddles the canoe and the third (The Learner, mostly a child) sorts the catch. Now they are pulling. This fisherman has caught nothing except some rotten wood and he throws it back into the water. You think of apologizing but think better of it. This puts your worries into perspective, you were worried that the Passport Office was still delaying your passport but here is someone bothered with survival and the reality of rowing home with an empty canoe after a day on the sea. The other man has some catch, three silver fish glistening in the sun, they are called gla-gla. They will be roasted and sold in Makoko. These are quite small fish, the sort used for animal feed.

You watch this process for some time till the actions become rote: row out, get into formation, throw net, pull net, sort fish, throw again, pull, sort fish, row boat and survey.

These fishermen speak the Egun language, a French and Yoruba fisho-speak and most of them hail from Badagry. They are aquatic nomads, they moved here in search of fertile waters. They also have a sense of humour and one teases you that you’ve not been snapping him because he has not gotten a lot of catch. Truth is you felt he would be irritated by camera clicks when his net kept turning up driftwood.

The boredom of the water soon gets to you and you row off to meet another fishing community. This is the Dako Fishing Community, you will recognize them by their coloured boats and rock star outfits. This is a happy group. The leader welcomes you with a smile and actually holds up his basket like a trophy for you to snap. He has the largest catch you have seen on these waters and should understandably be proud. Is fishing about skill or luck?

You get into circle formation with these ones and watch the process. They have a better catch than the former group. The atmosphere is bubbly, there are jokes, someone scoops some garri into a bowl and has an impromptu breakfast. Another throws his hand into a peace sign so you record him. You are happy that they are happy. You row around and smile at the rapid exchanges between them. You wonder why there are no fisherwomen.

The sun is out and the previously cold air now moves slower. Your new friends will be here till dark, getting into formation, throwing and pulling, that’s a fisherman’s life.

There’s something solitary about fishing that reminds you of biking, they remain in a community but they are alone. There’s glory in their solitude. There’s something peaceful and forgotten in the open sea. It’s in the canoe rocking softly alone. It’s in the tired fisherman taking a nap, arms splayed out and tired from the throwing and pulling.

For you, it is time to head home. You arrive the Lagos jetty at 9:30 a.m. It is still morning but your heart is already full.

Osisiye Tafa is a banker by day, and writer by night. He has been published on The Guardian, Businessday, Thisday, Ovation, Y-Naija among others. He writes faction - fictionalized telling of actual events-which he shares on his His debut book, ‘Sixty Percent of a True Story’ is available at Terra Kulture, Laterna, Amazon and Konga


  1. Abominable snow girl

    April 15, 2017 at 7:22 pm

    You draw me in and it’s just as if I am with you bobbing along with the soft waves of the ocean waters lapping at the sides of our canoe. The rising sun lends a warm embrace to my bare shoulders with an occasional cold breeze slapping my cheeks and ears.
    I can’t believe my luck, I have found you and you are everything I imagined, tall enough to make me stand on tiptoe, handsome in a rugged building contractor kind of way oozing a confidence that is borne of years of equal parts worldly wisdom, hustle, grit and enough ambition.
    You are a creative sensible enough to know that it won’t pay all your bills but still you dream and take long walks or trips on the weekend.
    You smell of dettol soap, dettol cool to be exact and when that wears off, something that is all you…….

    • Simi

      April 15, 2017 at 9:52 pm

      Giiiiirrrrrrlllll, you is gone!!!!

      You both seem to be kindred spirits. Hope you each other if haven’t already done so.

  2. Alterego

    April 15, 2017 at 7:23 pm

    Reading this had a certain soothing effect on me. As if I was being lulled. I read with a smile on my face. I didn’t want to stop. Avid reader such as myself, I wonder why I’m just stumbling upon you now. You are right. Spooning beside a (warm, smooth) body at 5 am is a spiritual experience.
    Well done. Please keep writing.

  3. mr.A

    April 15, 2017 at 7:35 pm

    …and if the boat capsides and you cannot swim?, you will tell your god you weren’t ready?

  4. o

    April 15, 2017 at 7:53 pm

    Lovely. I enjoy your articles. I hope you had on a life jacket tho. #safetyfirst

  5. Ocean Basket

    April 15, 2017 at 9:31 pm

    Lovely piece.
    These fishermen will be the first time wave and smile at you when even your own boat or ferry pass them. Apart from Makoko, other small communities like Tarkwa Bay, Ogogoro, Sabokoji and co show also be used to tell stories. There’s really more to lagos than the mainland and island.

  6. Ocean Beauty

    April 15, 2017 at 9:32 pm

    Biko I’m still Ocean Beauty

  7. ACDCNg

    April 15, 2017 at 10:30 pm

    wot about the stench?….

  8. Brunofiercetwo

    April 16, 2017 at 8:08 am

    I love this! More articles like this should keep coming

  9. Remy

    April 16, 2017 at 2:32 pm

    Lovely article. It felt like I was experiencing it with you. Great Job

  10. Pink

    April 16, 2017 at 10:28 pm

    Really enjoyed this article! Almost as if i was in the canoe with you. Great writing indeed.
    P.s you and Abominable snow girl ? should hook up, i’ll definitely read your adventures ??

  11. Hafiz Adewuyi

    August 1, 2018 at 9:45 pm

    Your piece is a true beauty. How can one read this and not want to experience their world more keenly and with less inhibition? I doff my hat Osisiye.

  12. Salt warra gyal

    October 22, 2018 at 12:25 am

    a song of love you put in my heart….wading my mermaid foot strokes in the pool across from the church…..your beard tickles the back of my neck……strong arms …strong feet…you straddle me in the most vertical recumbent way. Who is this god?…where have you been?… nibble my ears and tickle my kittie cat….bad gyal bad gyal what you gonna do when they come for you….u taste me …my knees buckle….I hold back just a little …save some for another day maybe…….

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