woke up to this noise? hope you like 18°C and constant existential dread. abuja’s not a place you find on a pretty postcard. this is the city that texts you spam before you even book a flight. i’m here because someone told me the street food was cheaper than hostels. spoiler: it’s not.

[iframe src="https://maps.google.com/maps?q=-13.531,33.7393&z=12&output=embed" width="100%" height="300"]

ok let’s cut to the chase. the numbers i grabbed off some idiot’s spreadsheet? 18.04°C. feels like 17.62. humidity’s 66% which means every time you sweat, it’s like your skin is slowly dissolving. oof. pressure’s 1021hpa-i looked it up. sounds scientific. i’ma just say it’s still sticky as hell.

quick answers. because why bother reading my ramblings when you can skim?

q: is this place worth visiting?

a: only if you hate efficiency. abuja’s good for people who wanna stare at trees and question why their phone chargers keep dying. if you want arenas or museums, don’t pretend you’ve arrived.

q: is it expensive?

a: nah. depending how much you gamble. hostels for $15/night? sure. but that’s if you don’t factor in the 3 a.m. kebab stand that charges $5 for a meat ball smaller than your thumb.

q: who’d hate it here?

a: people who speak english fluently. you’ll get stares. or worse-locals think you’re lost in intent. i heard a guy tries to scam tourists with fake taxis. fair warning.

q: best time to visit?

a: saturday. that’s when the buses are 80% empty. but again-why even do this? if you go wednesday, maybe the street musicians won’t play you the same sad song.

brooklyn street is a disaster. not art. just someone’s 3-year-old trying to sell used crisp packets. yea. that’s the vibe. you’d think a city this crowded would have better trash cans. no. the trash is worse than your ex’s relationship advice.

i saw this today: a vendor selling 'premium' mango juice for $2.50. tasted like sadness and tap water. i told him, ‘this better not be the same as the government’s soup,’ but he just grinned. class act.

humidity’s 66% again. that means your hair will frizz like a confused cat. i wore my hoodie indoors. practical. the AC in cafes? better than my lungs. some places have it. some don’t. if you find one, treat it like a jewellery store. lock your bag. or don’t. y’all.

i heard a local warned me about the banking apps. ‘naija banks hate tourists,’ they said. i used mine anyway. got a 404 error. it’s 2 a.m. i’m lowkey thirsty. should i just drink the street vendor’s water? same temperature. same results, i guess.

someone told me the subway here is haunted. not like ghosts. more like the driver will suddenly stop for no reason. i’m picturing a ghostly figure pulling the lever. i’m 40% sure it’s just a kid testing how many honks they can get.

the weather here is like a failed horror movie. 18°C high. no rain. just that creepy stickiness. you know the kind of stickiness where your shirt sticks to your back and you want to scream. not even hot. just… alive.

i tried to take a selfie at the pool side. the water’s private. but the shutter clicked, the breeze hit my face, and now i look like a confused origami frog. i kept it. it’s a vibe.

links. because why trust humans when you can trust the internet?

- reddit: r/abuja (going down. again.)
- yelp: find a kebab stand that’s not a trap
- tripadvisor: abuja hostels (read the 2-star reviews)
- local blog: ask naijadis (they’ll ghost you if you ask about prices), [link]

a budget student's messy take on abuja's wifi struggles and aircon dreams

You might also be interested in:

About the author: Topiclo Admin

Comments (0)

Join the conversation

Comments (0)

Join the conversation