It is not hard for me to hold by the finger and mark accurately, the first time I visited this city I have heard so much about and was terrified and anxious to meet. In the year 2014, I would board a not so early bus from Abuja for a 10hour trip that would lead me to the city of lights for a 3-day fully funded journalism training. In between taking naps, eating junk and fruits, and finding a private spot on the highway to ease myself, I would hear more stories from fellow passengers about this city of light and how it manages to swallow and rebuild everything. My first seeing of Lagos would be through the lens of darkness and night, in a park whose smell has turned to nostalgia, strong enough to bring every memory back. No one seemed to think of sleep because a small gathering of cab drivers flocked me, calling out list of places they thought my destination was. I give my attention to one, read out the over rehearsed destination from my mind and bargain with him. Truthfully, I do not know if I bargained successfully, if he was trying to be kind probably from the weariness and naivety I tried desperately to hide, or if he cheated me. But it didn't feel as though he did because I remember him giving me a tour guide explanation to places we would drive through. One of them was the third mainland bridge, the longest bridge in West Africa, even though this information is outdated, I didn't even know that. Lagos would call me again, 4 years later and this time, it was for a longer stay of 3months for an internship and I decided to give Lagos another try. Again, I see Lagos at night because of late departure. I am terrified, despite the fact that my friends are with me, there are huge cockroaches coming out from a seemingly closed gutter. This is when I understand that indeed, everything survives in Lagos. The 3 months come and go but they are hiccupped with all the things I think Lagos offers; early mornings, jumping buses, unending traffic, flying bikesto terribly far destinations because a car will slow you down, Shoprite for movies and cold stone, fine men and women, and literary festivals It is during this period that I learn you have to hold tightly to your bag and phones, because I hear stories of people snatching items through windows whilst in traffic, or pickpocketing. I learn the importance of ₦50; the need to have change or be good at maths so the conductor doesn't defraud you, and the early morning puff puffand evening crunchiness of peppery plantain chips which become my addicted rescue to Lagos unending traffic. Contrary to what people say about Lagos, about its people always minding their business, I find that they are caring of some sort. Willing to stop from their race or chase as the case might be to answer your question about direction, which was something I did often despite the fact that I wrote a step by step guide to my destination: when you leave the house, walk to the bus stop, take a keke to Ijegun, from Ijegun, get a bus going to Gate, at Gate, enter a bus going to Oshodi and stop at Toyota. They are willing to sit with you on a bus and tell you when you get to your bus stop or lead you to where you are to start another commute because Lagos rarely has a one way trip to anywhere. This is how Lagos with its water that irritates my skin grew on me; so much that I visited a third time for another literary festival. This time, I see Lagos with the right amount of light because I took the night bus. Everything holds a familiar forgetfulness because, even though I am not necessarily good with address or locations, I deliberately make no attempt to remember that of Lagos. I let myself sink into the uneasiness of this life and soon after the festival, I become withdrawn, wanting terribly to leave. But I find happiness in this town, somewhat. And I know that our relationship is that of siblings who can not stand each other or be in the same space for an unnecessarily long period of time. So one has to go and return occasionally, giving the right space and time to let the need to experience each other seed into something that needs nourishing.