I woke up tired. Thought about turning on the TV. But I quickly changed my mind; rather have a strong dose of caffeine than another dose of Covid news. Had a shower and threw some clothes on. Kissed my wife and daughter then grabbed my car keys and face mask. Whispered a prayer and ventured into the unknown. Just a typical start to the new normal.
Hit the highway and got lost in the soundtrack of my life. As I drove through lanes of masked motorists I recalled the last social gathering I attended – a wedding reception. There I was greeted with security detail brandishing digital thermometers. My wife and I had to produce our invitations to gain entry. Once in, it was a stark contrast to my pre-covid wedding reception of close to 1,000 guests. Due to the government restrictions around congregation numbers, there were no more than 50 scantily seated family members, relatives and close friends in attendance. It was still a fun party.
Red light ahead snapped me back into consciousness. The government had taken over many billboards as creating more hygiene awareness superseded the private sector’s objective of driving consumer purchases. Local celebrities were the new face of hygiene and social distancing compliance. Street hawkers became a thing of the past. The cheapest public transportation was by bus as most motorcycles were banned. The combination of these elements made for a reduced journey time of 20 minutes – usually 45 minutes.
Arriving at my office building, I go through the usual protocol with security personnel getting my temperature scanned and hands sanitized – a ritual that somehow was reminiscent of the order enforced in the Equilibrium movie. At the lobby my finger was going nowhere near the elevator button. Instead I used the corner tip of my ID card. 50 per cent capacity was observed once inside. Familiar faces were greeted with gentle nods. Hands tucked away in pockets or arms firmly folded. Soon after silence was golden except for the female elevator voice announcing arrival at my floor. I step out and head to my second home.
Photo credit: Dreamstime
It’s been 4 weeks since I’ve been staying at home and it’s been a bittersweet experience. Let’s start with my appearance. I look like the result of a 
Living in Lagos does things to you. Even the most patient of hearts can get stirred up by the antics of inconsiderate human beings. Many Lagosians I’ve come into contact with are not keen on queuing even though it is a civil gesture designed to give some sort of order. How else would a cashier know who is next to be served?
As a little child growing up in London I got excited whenever I saw Tony the Tiger on TV promoting the addictive, mouth-watering Kellogg’s Frosted Flakes. The cartoon mascot was legendary – moving was such agility, strength and athletic precision when spinning that blue and white striped cereal bowl on his paw index without spilling a drop of milk. I couldn’t get enough of those ads and they worked like a charm on me – I needed my Kellogg’s fix. My mum didn’t disappoint – she took me through Frosted Flakes, Corn Flakes and Rice Krispies.
