It was his first visit to Lagos in a long time and Prince Adepoju Michael Obatoto had only one reason. His six elder brothers had told him several stories about Lagos but only one drove him to request this trip from his father. He wanted to play it cool especially as he had invited the daughter of the Otunba on the trip but he couldn’t. His nose was pressed against the window immediately the driver announced they were in Lagos.
“Yes my Prince.” The driver answered.
“How long till we get there?” Adepoju asked.
“One hour my prince.”
“I thought you said we were in Lagos already.”
“Too many cars on the road my prince.”
Adepoju leaned back in his seat, disappointed. If this was his village he would order all the cars to leave the road but his brothers had warned him not to try it. One of them tried it once, they didn’t tell him what happened but his brother still ran away anytime he saw a yellow bus.
“So where are we going?” Abeke asked.
Abeke closed her eyes for a few seconds then opened them. “The airport?”
Adepoju scoffed. “No.”
“You like planes. Okay, the film house?”
“The government house?”
“Government house? I live in the palace, why will I want to see their government house?”
“I don’t know, give me a hint.”
“Okay.” Adepoju said. “All my brothers recommended the place. And they said once I go there my life will never remain the same again.”
“Oh come on Abeke, I give up on you.”
“Okay, one more try. A disco house?”
“That’s it, don’t ask me any more questions.”
Abeke turned away, hurt. He did not want to hurt her but once they got where they were going, she would forgive him.
*Forty five minutes later*
“My Prince, we are almost there but the cars are not moving again.” The driver said.
“What’s the problem?”
“There’s no problem, this is Lagos; it is always like this.”
Adepoju sighed. He was a prince, if he wanted something, he should have it.
“Is there anything else we can do?”
“The place is just ahead my prince.”
“Are you asking your prince to walk?” Abeke retorted.
“Is it that close?” Adepoju asked, he was ready to walk.
“It is right there.” Saka pointed to the building.
Adepoju opened the door, grabbed Abeke’s hand and stepped on to the road. He ran down the road, pulling Abeke along with him.
“Adepoju, is that the place? Coldstone?”
“What? No.” She thought he, a Prince, was running on the road because of Ice-cream?
They arrived in front of the building and he stopped. He let go of Abeke’s hand and smiled; it was exactly the way they described it.
“This is it?” Abeke asked.
“The aroma alone is killing me.”
“Really? This is it?”
Adepoju started for the building but Abeke did not follow him.
“Come, let’s go.” Adepoju called to her.
“What is this place?”
Adepoju turned to her and smiled. He knew he was grinning foolishly but he didn’t care, he was about to introduce her to something that would change both their lives.
“Abeke, welcome to the White House.”
She giggled. “Donald Trump does not live here.”
“No, he doesn’t. What happens here is more important than what happens in his own white house.”
She looked at him like he was crazy and maybe he was but she would understand in a few minutes.
“What do they do here?”
“This is the home of the world’s best amala, pounded yam and every good African food.”
“Adepoju! We came all the way to Lagos for amala and pounded yam?”
“Yes my dear, and it is going to change our lives forever. Let’s go.”