From Benin City to Lagos – A Journey of Luggage Tetris, Bananas, and Banter
Travel experiences in Nigeria: Microbus rides, music, and humanity on the road back to Lagos
When traveling in Nigeria, you need three things: patience, humor – and absolutely no fear of tight spaces.
My adventure began at the Motor Park in Benin City, one of those bustling places where buses, people, and luggage merge into a rhythmic whole. The noise, the drivers shouting, the bargaining – it’s a chaotic orchestra that somehow plays in harmony.
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I bought my ticket for the microbus to Lagos. A simple piece of paper – yet a gateway into an entirely different universe. The bus fills up. First with people, then with suitcases. Lots of them. The back rows quickly fill, the aisle becomes a luggage lane, and even the front seat next to the driver is piled high. Next to me rises a small mountain of bags.
When a friendly woman told me we’d stop for a bathroom break, I quietly wondered how that would even work – we were literally walled in by luggage. But, like many things in Nigeria: it works. Somehow.
We reached a rest stop with a gas station, market stalls, and toilets – and there he was, the true hero of the trip: the luggage orchestrator. With stoic calm, he rearranged the bags like in the children’s game Rush Hour, where you move cars around to free one. Except here it was real people and real suitcases. And lo and behold: one by one, we all made it out. Including me.
Outside, I was greeted by reality: improvised food stalls, the scent of grilled fish, Coke in glass bottles – and a few beggars, some with disabilities, politely asking for coins. I watched the hustle and bustle, bought a cold drink, and for a moment, time stood still.
Back on the bus, my seatmate offered me a banana with a smile. Chill African music played in the background. Some passengers hummed or sang along. I let myself be carried by the relaxed mood. The road was well-paved, traffic surprisingly light, and the driver drove safely and calmly – something I truly appreciated.
One thing stood out: on the way from Lagos to Benin City, I counted over 20 checkpoints. Now, on the return journey, maybe three. Why? No one seems to know for sure. Some say it’s because authorities are more alert to smuggling or suspicious activity leaving Lagos – while entering the big city seems less concerning. But like many things in travel, it’s just speculation.
And then – Lagos.
The city welcomed us with its own mix of noise, sunlight, and life. And suddenly, it was there – that deep feeling. Not just arriving. Coming home.
I always thought the world was my home. And that’s still true. But Lagos… Lagos is something else. My heart beats differently here. Stronger. Warmer. Maybe it’s just a home for now. Maybe it’s something more. But today, it felt like my Lagos. My way home.
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