An Immigrant:- Inspired by Jon Bellion

Woke up in Lagos with darkness all around me

I feel like an immigrant in Lagos

Everywhere I go, the feeling doesn’t change

Yes, I feel like an immigrant in Lagos

The city never sleeps even though its eyes are closed

Darkness all around but the city feels alive

5am, the sun is coming up

Sounds from the mosque filters into my room

“Allah u Akbar, Allah u Akbar”

Time to get up and grind

Beat traffic and the madness out there on the roads

5pm, back in traffic out there in the city

The anger in me rises and foreign words come tumbling out

They make no sense to me yet I direct them at the bus driver

“Ko Ni Da Fun E”

7pm, sounds from the makeshift church come into the room

“Jesus na you be Oga, All other gods na so so yeye”

Suru-Lere, born in Idi-Araba, raised in Aguda

The streets threaten to eat me alive

You say your tribe is Igbo?

“Omo Igbo Oshi”

Everybody shine your eye, we no come look Uche face

Hustle out here all day, everyday

The City smells your weakness

“So Gbo Yoruba”

You’re not from around here

I’m in trouble now, as if the light skin wasn’t a give away

Walking along Ojuelegba Road now

“Yellow, come buy shoe”

Now I have no money left

Time to head back to London

Feeling like an immigrant again

Lagos to London and back

Waiting to get picked up at the airport

“Oga, let me help you with your load”

Now, I have no bags left

Still a learner

Aunt comes round and speaks the native language

I smile, nod and reply in English; She looks at me funny

Lagos City, a concrete jungle

The heat, smell and sounds feel like home

Still an immigrant in my own city

One clap, two clap, three clap, forty?

By clapping more or less, you can signal to us which stories really stand out.