A Man Reads About His Madness
It took me three months.
Nearly All The Men In Lagos Are Mad by Damilare Kuku is an anthology with an overarching theme of the cunning, folly, and sometimes genius — or madness, as aptly titled — of men in Lagos, specifically those in the cesspool we like to call the “dating scene”. So, if you’re currently wading in the murky waters of fecal matter, or what you’d like to call a romantic relationship, then a few stories here may be familiar, relatable, or even about you — but with a different name.
Some stories are so thrilling, they make the 17 Molly guy look like someone under apprenticeship. Some scams these men pull are well-thought-out, and some will have you thinking whether or not these women are capable of independent thought or deduction. A few other stories are truly heartbreaking, they make you want to renounce your gender as a man. And some are so meh, you wonder if the writer just included them as filler arcs to pad the book as if she were trying to desperately beat the word count of an essay assignment. To her credit, the stories and scenes were well-described. The diction and tone used are relaxing enough for anyone to just glide through and understand what’s going on without consulting the dictionary every three pages. The descriptions are vivid enough to paint a picture of what happens (mostly) just north of the Lekki-Ikoyi bridge to locals, and still detailed enough for foreigners to understand the various settings.
Sex sells. Why did you wait up week after week to catch the latest Euphoria episode before everyone else? Why did you binge eight seasons of Game of Thrones? Why did you pick up this book? Were you interested in the Twitter discourse or did you see a screenshot of how his tongue swept over her clit, sucking her juices dry and — sorry, got carried away there — on your friend’s story? Personally, I picked it up because the title sounded funny, especially when you say it out loud — honestly. Either way, Kuku did a fine job of elucidating the sexual encounters that occurred throughout the book. And with its colourful cover, paperback readers might want to keep this away from the family library, or risk younger readers getting a very vivid introduction to Lagos erotica.
Pedestrian readers will find this very captivating and might finish it in one sitting. But those seeking a thorough narrative that qualifies as “real literature” will be quick to dismiss this as a cheap, bland, and uninspiring excuse to sell erotica.
Ultimately, I think this is a book that should be read while waiting for your Uber or daily commute, on the toilet seat, or during lunch. Because however interesting, horrifying, or motivating you may find these stories, there’s always a new Twitter thread or an Instablog post that trumps all the madness in this book.
Everyone in Lagos is mad — Who wouldn’t be? It’s just that men get the spotlight this time around. There have been discussions about Kuku using this book as a medium to vilify men, and I take a dim view of that. I see this as some sort of laid-back therapy — if you will; a community for people all over Nigeria to read and see that they’re not the only ones going through whatever they’re going through. As for women, there have been talks about the collation of stories and publishing on Twitter. And from the looks of things, it’s going to be a very messy read. So hurry up with that Google Form link, Mr. Author. Men in Lagos can’t wait to share their stories about what Folake did last night.
