To say my first experience of house hunting in Lagos was a bit stressful is a big understatement. Was it the agents trying to extort from me by going for property inspections at very distasteful state or not having the right info about the properties before getting there? Check this out: A self-con with its kitchen linked with the loo! I mean you’d have to go through the loo to get to the kitchen! I took one look at the agent and told him never to try that rubbish with me anymore. Others were a row of garages turned into rooms; apartments with poor ventilation, supposed standard room the size of a guard-room, uncompleted houses, name it.
As God would have it, I successfully secured a beautiful one at an un-expected price. Sorted things with the Landlord and planned movement thinking my troubles and trials were over. Alas! They were far from over. On my first night at the new apartment, the landlord came knocking at midnight. I was asleep and didn’t hear. I was told by my friend the next day. I went in search of him and met him washing his jeep outside. Immediately I asked him, he was quick to defend himself for no reason, saying ‘Nooo, I was just checking on you o’. Now, who goes checking on his new tenant in the middle of the night? Thank goodness, I had one of my sibs and a very close friend staying with me. Obviously, he thought since I was single, I was supposed to be living all by myself. Who knows what would have occurred if I was awake to open the door? I heard much later he constantly abused his young house maid sexually till she became pregnant. The poor girl was sent away abruptly and that was the end of the case (he is/was ‘supposedly’ a law enforcer).
As if that wasn’t enough, I was at the ‘yellow room’ on a sunday morning when I was informed that some sacrifices were being carried out in the compound. Did I hear right? Sacrifice ke? I thought my landlord was cool o. As if I knew some rice would follow, I instructed them not to open the door for anyone so as not to come in contact with anything or anyone till I returned. My brother told me the landlord’s mum stood her ground that she was sure someone was in the house. After several attempts of knocking, they gave up and left with their rice. I came back home to meet blood and a bundle of candles at the main gate to the house. Anyways, I went into a staggering spiritual exercise. Staggering, because I had to leave the house as early as 4:30am to be at the yellow room. So imagine waking up at 1am-2am for vigils only to wake at 3:30/4:00am again. Thankfully, no hazards came near my dwelling and guess what? I lost some kgs…lol. Though he repeated the ritual when a new tenant packed in to the flat beside mine. A ritual per tenant, you would say?
By the time my rent was almost expired, he called one day to say he wanted to use his house. I wasn’t fazed because I was already on the lookout for another place closer to Office and Church. I mean, who continues staying in a ritualist’s house? or where the landlord beats his tenant? Should I stay till it’s my turn to receive the blows? Hell to the N to the O!
- Many things are not as they seem to be.
- Some things are bound to occur, even if you are the most careful person.
- Be prepared at all times.
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