SEGUN SMART

I-P-O-D-O
Lagos district; home to drugs,sex
…And the unthinkable
By Segun Ajiboye and Emeka Enyinnaya
It was a warm Friday night in Ikeja, the capital of Lagos State. The crowd of traders, office workers, commercial buses and the job seekers that make Ikeja the hotbed of Lagos were long gone. In their place, other kinds of groups were just preparing for the day’s work.
A group of young men and women have found another source of attraction. As they gathered in a spot, a fairly old woman dispensed their favourite drink of local gin mixed with different kinds of herbs in small glasses.
Not far away, pairs of near-naked young women stood in groups of twos and threes. Once in a while, a man would walk up to the girls and after a little chat, they would walk away through a dark alley, near a popular place of worship.
Curious to find out what was playing out, National Life moved closer and found out what you’ve always thought was happening- the young girls were ‘cheap’ prostitutes while the men were drivers and other miscreants who have come to ‘enjoy’.
Keen to find out where the dark alley led, we practically became one of them, and soon found out that it indeed led to one of the most notorious but little known spots in Ikeja-Ipodo.
It was not for nothing that Ipodo gained its notoriety. Ipodo consists of a few modern buildings and several ancient structure with countless corner streets that lead in-and-out; it provides a fool-proof safe haven for different shades of people, ranging from people with genuine business, call girls and drug peddlers among others.
A nearby market meant Ipodo is never short of crowd. The dirty environment is charaterised by blocked drainage, half-clad children, old men and women in dilapidated buildings sit next to running and dirty drainages with plates of food in hand.
Ipodo is a world etched in paradox. It is home to the good, the bad and the ugly. Religion plays a premium role in Ipodo. What with about a few Mosques and Churches? The traditionalists are not left out of the rush for attention. Right in the center of the street is a shrine dedicated to the god of tricks (Ojubo Esu).
The shrine, constructed with blocks, is decorated with pieces of white cloth that have long turned brown with stains. Pots containing various sacrificial items also adorned unenviable god’s shrine.
Interestingly, Ipodo is also home to countless numbers of brothels. To the ignorant, only a few brothels are located in Ipodo. But to discerning minds, almost every home in Ipodo serves as a brothel. A resident, who pleaded anonymity, told National Life that life in Ipodo is reminiscent of the Biblical Sodom.
The middle-aged man swore that he took up residence in the place because of his inability to meet the demands of landlords in other areas. “I am not a happy man at all. If I had money, I would have moved out to rent a decent apartment elsewhere. You cannot bring up your child here because you would have ruined that child’s future even before it started.”
Indeed, the prostitutes at Ipodo are not bothered about who is looking. Their wares are not meant for display at night alone. While more serious-minded people go about their business, provocatively-dressed prostitutes stand in front of their brothels in search of prospective clients.
For those who live in untagged brothels, it takes a more decent approach. Except for old customers who know which house to enter, their mode of operation takes the form of a cartel. They operate through third-party pimps who arrange with prospective customers.
Ipodo would also pride itself as a liberal community where anything and everything is possible. In Ipodo, different kinds of trading go on side by side, without qualms. While the auto spare parts dealers, food vendors and hawkers make their living in shops scattered around the neighbourhood, hard drug dealers and other illicit traders jostle for attention.
The peddlers are more covert in their operations in the daytime. For a prospective buyer, you have to know where to go and who to approach for the killer substance. But they become more daring in the night when one out of every 10 people you come across might be a potential seller of crack.
The evidence of the damage being wrought by cocaine, heroine and cannabis are the numbers of lunatics, male and female that prowl the street heavily sedated. A particular male lunatic has been in the area for a long time. A source told National Life that the once handsome man went bunkers after several years of taking cocaine.
During a covert trip to Ipodo few day to the last Easter celebration, two groups of young men erected gates made of palm fronds. Every passer-by was made to drop a certain amount of money in a bucket by the gate. Any stubborn man or woman is turned back with a stern warning not to come back.
Surprisingly, nobody was bold enough to resist or question the rationale behind the collection. A man who had just parted with one hundred naira wondered aloud as he rushed away from the neighbourhood. “Na wa for these people o. Imagine how they forced me to pay them. This country no get any law again.”
Few metres away from spots where the young men unabashedly robbed people of their money, was a commercial bus (Danfo). And inside were about five policemen who looked-on unconcerned.
Not far away, another group of young men sat by the side of the road, singing and dancing. The leader, who had a bandana handkerchief around his neck, bellowed orders in a voice that could only belong to the gods. As you try to steal a look, another guttural voice shouted at you: “Ki lo n wo” (What are you looking at?)
Your legs reacted by making a fast exit even before you would comprehend what the guy was saying. But before you make a final exit, another blocked your way and asked you for money. In desperation, you made him believe that you are a guy, and that you would love to buy Indian hemp.
Believing that he had found a new customer, the young man, who would later introduce himself as Mufu, apologized, and ushered us into a corner. Two of his colleagues later joined and offered words of advice-“why you dey smoke hemp? Try gbana, and you go know say e better pass.”
Mufu also disclosed the secret of the trade. According to him, you need a good link for you to get easy access into the market of the underworld at Ipodo. “You cannot come here like this. You need to know somebody that would link you.”
After what seemed a sealed deal, a man who was never part of the discussion appeared on the scene with a package. “We have the best around here. Which one do you want, white or brown?”
Nnamdi, a Lagos resident, narrated his encounter with Ipodo’s drug cartel sometime ago. Out to catch some fun, Nnamdi took a short trip a spot in Ikeja, where he suddenly found himself among some ‘hard guys’. After some rounds of drinks and smoking, Nnamdi told his new friends that he wanted some drugs. A deal was soon struck, and a motorcycle rider was called to take him to a dealer in Ipodo. “Theirs is a well-coordinated cartel. They operate with a network of okada riders who act as go-between with the buyers and dealers.”
Yet, life at Ipodo is not all about drug and sex. Yussuf (surname withheld) is an auto dealer and former resident of Ipodo. He vowed that Ipodo is more dangerous than people think. According to him, Ipodo would rank as the most dangerous neighbourhood in Lagos. “It is a place where you can get anything done. Drug, sex and other bad things are available in Ipodo. It is the home of hired assassins. Those young men you see standing in groups of twos and threes have no other job than robbery and killing.”