The Dichotomy of the Third Mainland Bridge.

Seated with friends gisting about the concert we were going to play at in the next hour, it dawned on me that the interesting conversations we were having had caused me to miss the scenery of the environment which I seldom fail to notice…but what to do? Looked out the window of the left backseat I was settled in. A vantage position really in the Toyota Siena minivan taking us to our destination and observed we were on the Third mainland bridge-

The Bridge is a proud vestige of the unholy alliance between the Nigerian civilian and military government.

The infamous bridge in the heart of our dear Lagos where all sorts of things happen ranging from carjacking, accidents due to a wide range of causes (in which overspeeding takes the lead) down to armed robbery which sometimes leaves the victims at the mercy of their creators because their lives have been forcefully taken from them. Some people have even picked it as a prime location to spend their last minutes in this beautiful but cruel world as they intentionally climb down the protective railings that separate the bridge from the large body of water surrounding it and plunge themselves deep down into the Lagos Lagoon with the hope that they aren’t rescued. Sometimes, their wish is granted and they get an express ticket to the great beyond but at other times they are quickly rescued by well-meaning and sympathetic members of the society before their descent to the path where no one knows and are left to count their ‘losses’ or ‘wins’ as it may be)

-And on the spot we were in, I suddenly saw as if by divine revelation:

The perfect dichotomy that exists in this place;

We were suspended in the air by the bridge, directly below us is the Lagos Lagoon, a large expanse of calm waters, and on either side were the Lagos high-rise buildings graced with glittering well-manicured lawns to keep the sea at bay with the morning sun brooding as it rose, patiently working towards showcasing the full glory of its radiancy- your typical daydream. While on the left side, brown roofed, wooden, dilapidated buildings held up by flimsy excuses of iron rods actually rose from the water, the ones not on the water suffered the same level of rot or worse, and ooh the stench! you could smell and feel the poverty as the noisome odor hit your nose, if you breathe in just a little longer, you’d feel it on your tongue and inadvertently swallow it, still feeling the burning sensation as it journeys through your gut to nestle on your bile.

Yes you guessed it right, actual humans live here, in fact, it isn’t just some houses, it is a community where the inhabitants have come to painfully understand that they have to be there for their basic survival.

And that my dear friends is the dichotomy between the bourgeoisie and the proletariat in Lagos. A certain class of people revel in extreme abundance from the proceeds of probably plundered resources while another class wallows in an unimaginable level of poverty. No, it is not unimaginable. you don’t have to pretend to imagine it because it sits there all day for your eyes to feed on, you can only pretend not to see it.

Third Mainland bridge may be one of the very few bridges in the world that encapsulates the true meaning of the word bridge as it practically bridges the city into the two classes of people living in the city. Right there on the bridge, you can differ between the types of lifestyles that exist in our dear Eko.

Right there, you can enjoy the best of all worlds present.

Èkó for show right there.