Post by Prince Atanda (@princewriter01)
LOVE IN LAGOS'S DIRT – VOLUME ONE: FIRE AND WATER
By Prince Atanda
A nation born in blood. A love forged in fire. A truth buried in the dirt.
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Chapter 1: The Eyo Festival
The past never lies quietly. It echoes. In the brittle pages of a banned newspaper, in the fixed gaze of a faded photograph, in the stories that are never shouted but always whispered, there it is. The truth, waiting to be heard. This story begins with one of those echoes. The year was 1914.
The world remembers 1914 for the shot in Sarajevo that plunged Europe into war. But in our corner of the world, it was the year we were given a name: Nigeria. The Northern and Southern Protectorates, and the Lagos Colony, were stitched together by a distant hand.
Yet, on the very first night of that newborn year, a secret riot broke out in Lagos. Flames consumed the Government House; Sir Reginald Harrington, the Governor, was killed. It was an attempt to murder the new nation in its crib.
Why?
The official record is sparse. The truth, as I have unearthed it, was fractured even then. Some said it was the amalgamation itself, forcing different tribes into one country, that dissatisfied the commoners. Others whispered it was the work of an underground press organization, one that has resisted British rule since Lagos became a colony in 1861.
Perhaps it was both. Hundreds of presses had been shut down, their owners arrested. But one remained, the most powerful of them all: the Oloja Egbin Press. A strange name, isn't it? Quite chilling.
For 28 days, Lagos had no Governor, and the British were silent. In that vacuum, new press organizations sprang up with their own cries:
"We must separate! We have nothing in common with the North or the rest of the South!" – Tiwatiwa Press.
"It will be a shame if Nigeria fails. Diversity is the key; we need unity." – Primeiro Press.
"The Aworis are the indigenous people of Lagos. We need our own country." – Woris Press.
Many topics, many voices. I cannot list them all from this distance, but their ink remains.
But the day this all converges was meant to be a new day. Lagos had a story, and a new Governor to celebrate: Lord Frederick Montague. The celebration would be colorful, with the Eyo masquerades leading the welcome.
To Lagosians, this wasn't just a festival. It was a sign, perhaps, that the British had learned to respect our culture. Or perhaps it was something more.
The Government House had been rebuilt with startling speed. As the Yoruba say, "Ile iba to jo, ewa lo busi." — "The house that fire destroys is rebuilt with greater beauty." The Marina streets were a riot of color. Mr. Alfred Beauchamp, the late Governor's senior advisor, along with all the British guards, escorted the new Governor into the city.
As Lord Montague's car neared the Government House, the Oba of Lagos, Eleko Adeyanju Eyinwumi II, and other invited traditional rulers, including British officers, stood ready. Trumpets sounded; he was welcomed.
Yet, in every firsthand account I've read, a singular feeling persists: even on that colorful day, a person could feel a chill. This might be one of the worst days in our history.
The Governor reached the dais and greeted his hosts. A 21-gun salute boomed in his honor. To those who sensed the tension, the day felt less like a celebration and more like a trap. For whom, no one could yet say.
Many performances unfolded, tribes from within Lagos and others representing the idea of one Nigeria. But some people were there for one thing only: the Eyo.
The celebration swelled when the Eyo finally appeared. The crowd erupted in joy.
"You should smile, Your Excellency. The Eyo is among the most notable of Lagos cultures," Mr. Alfred Beauchamp whispered.
"Why should I smile at a negro in a masquerade costume?" Lord Montague replied sharply.
"Your Grace, the Oba arranged this to honor you, especially as it was done for the late Governor. It shows you respect their culture. Sir Reginald wasn't on these people's good side," Beauchamp insisted.
"Then why should I?" he asked furiously.
The Governor's eyes met those of Oba Adeyanju. The tension in their gaze was, by all accounts, suffocating.
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Love in Lagos's Dirt – Volume One: Fire and Water is a tale of love, courage, and resistance against forces that try to erase history itself. Set against the backdrop of Nigeria's 1914 amalgamation, it follows Eyinju, a photographer, artist, and reluctant conspirator, as she navigates colonial brutality, forbidden love, and an underground resistance movement that has fought for centuries.
Get your copy today on ITAN.
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