Only in Nigeria can a five-minute errand become a three-hour journey and somehow end with you apologising for being late.

You leave the house at 10:00am because you are going somewhere that should take twenty minutes.

At 10:20am, you are still moving.

By 10:45am, you have stopped moving entirely.

Then 11:15am comes. You have learnt the personal history of the driver beside you, questioned several decisions that brought you here and accepted that whatever happens next is now between you and God.

Someone calls.

“Where are you?”

“I’m almost there.”

You are not almost there.

In fact, you are still three traffic lights, two unnecessary diversions, one broken-down vehicle and an argument between two commercial drivers away from being almost there.

But “almost there” is part of the Nigerian vocabulary.

It is not a location.

It is a coping mechanism.

Nigeria Traffic Has Its Own Definition of Time

The funny thing about Nigeria traffic is that we have become so used to it that we rarely question it anymore.

Instead, we simply add traffic to our plans.

Meeting by 2pm?

Leave by 11.

Dinner at 7?

Start getting ready by 3.

Doctor’s appointment at 10?

You might as well sleep at the hospital.

In Lagos, traffic is not just something you meet on the road. It becomes part of your daily schedule.

A journey that should take twenty minutes can easily take two hours. So, rather than expect the road to respect your plans, you plan around the road.

Eventually, you arrive tired and four hours older.

Then someone looks at you and says:

“Ah, you are late.”

Yes.

Thank you.

I had noticed.

“I’m Almost There” Is a Nigerian Coping Mechanism

Nigeria has taught us that time is less of a measurement and more of a suggestion.

“I’m coming.”

“Five minutes.”

“I’m on my way.”

“Traffic is not much.”

These statements have survived every attempt at scientific measurement.

Somehow, though, we all understand them.

“Five minutes” might mean five minutes.

It might also mean thirty minutes.

Sometimes, it means an hour.

As for “I’m almost there”, that could mean anything from turning into your street to still being on the other side of Lagos.

The important thing is that you are, technically, on your way.

We Have Been Training for Patience Our Entire Lives

Perhaps this is why Nigerians are so patient.

After all, we have been training for it our entire lives.

There are buses to wait for.

There is electricity to wait for.

There is traffic to sit in.

Appointments rarely start on time.

Salaries sometimes take their time.

Government promises can take even longer.

And then there is that person who said they would call you back.

You are still waiting.

Sometimes, we wait for so long that patience becomes hard to tell apart from giving up.

Still, tomorrow morning, we will leave the house again.

This time, we will say we are going somewhere nearby.

Once again, we will underestimate the journey.

Soon enough, we will enter traffic.

The same road will suddenly feel longer than it did yesterday.

When someone eventually calls to ask where we are, the answer will come with the confidence of someone who knows exactly where they are going:

“I’m almost there.”

Good morning, Nigeria.

May your journey be short, your driver be sensible and your definition of “five minutes” remain forever optimistic.