Over the weekend (the first weekend of November) I happened to be at ArtX. This event tends to mark the start of the art exhibition season in Lagos. I am a big fan of art—I love to see the outcome of hard work, painstaking even, and experience the world through the artists’ eyes—so I had to make my way to the exhibition.

As expected, it was a lovely experience—stimulating, fun, and somewhat calming. As I made my way from booth to booth with intrigue and an open mind, I wandered into (Museum of West African Art) MOWAA’s booth. The lack of proper documentation (in Nigeria) often gets to me, so I was impressed by what MOWAA was doing at the exhibition. A different twist I must confess. Although I didn’t leave my vocal mark in their booth, their questions have been lingering in my head since then. On a surface level, they sounded like simple questions, but thought-provoking at their core.

And here I am, almost a week later chased by the questions and finally putting words to my thoughts and response to one.

What does Nigeria smell like?

Nigeria smells like a Saturday morning from my childhood, the month of December, the smell of dry air laced with the aroma of a Saturday morning meal of plantain and eggs.

Nigeria smells like a Monday morning from my first taste of (a semblance of) adulthood, the scent of humans with different fragrances, nice and otherwise overshadowed by the choking and blinding smoke from ill-maintained vehicles.

Nigeria smells like a Sunday evening—any festive Sunday evening—a warm house pulsing with familiar laughter and inside jokes, the unique and salivating smell of simmering jollof rice and fried meat.

On some days, in some places, Nigeria smells clean, dusty, fresh, or choking. Nigeria is a beautiful medley of different smells, it all smells like home.