“Oga! Oga! go back, I say go back, no go dat side o. One man don catch the Ebola disease and e wan die; you better run for your life!”
I had arrived Obalende, a popular bus station in central Lagos having alighted from an in-bound BRT bus from the peninsular Ajah area of the city a moment earlier and walked straight into the Ebola virus disease scare that had thrown the bus station into an uproar. Not that Obalende, the once notorious city centre synonymous with Nigeria’s socio-political history had ever possessed the serene ambience of its neighbouring colonial GRA of Ikoyi but even on its saner days, the oldest bus station in Lagos was always in a state of bedlam. But on the day I passed through its maze of human and vehicular commotion, Obalende seemed to have played host to a thousand demons.
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