Bashorun Randle. Long before that Lagos was a haven the abode of spirits and mystics for those specially chosen by the Almighty. All that the Portuguese did was to leak the secret to the rest of the world. Here was an island blessed with eternal serenity and blissful existence surrounded by sacred waters that annihilated evil spirits and nullified life threatening ailments as well as disease.
Besides, everyone lived up till old age. Death was strictly forbidden!! Randle was more sceptical and circumspect. In essence, there is no contradiction between being proud of Lagos and being a humble Lagosian. Hence, anyone who is arrogant cannot be a true Lagosian. Both my grandmother and my father are gone. What we have to deal with now are harsh realities. Perhaps I should add that my grandmother was the last surviving daughter of Fadimula an Ifa priest and water diviner.
As for my father, he was only forty-seven years old when he died on 17th December He had great plans for the indigenes of Lagos and even after death he laboured assiduously — through generous endowments and scholarships — to protect their interest and serve them selflessly.
In a matter of months, I shall attain the age of eighty years. It bears repetition that according to our ancestral history and oral tradition, Lagosians could speak directly to the deities and beyond them to the Almighty, ultimately. Unlike in ancient times, integrity is gone.
Compassion has taken flight. Discipline is on terminal leave. As for character, it is on suspension. The word for scruples sounds like a foreign language. The indigenes of Lagos are in a grave excuse the pun situation.
