The Land of Steps

Lagos is a vibrant cornucopia of colourful individuals. It’s a vibrant place, full of life and traffic-clogged streets. Cars race by, the markets are filled with a symphony of different dialects, the skyscrapers have stood the test of time and the hawkers on the road sell everything from oranges to paintings. However, there is a plague, a scourge that hardly anyone talks about. Lagos is the land of steps. There are literally steps everywhere. Normally, this isn’t a problem if you’re young and able-bodied but if you’re elderly or differently abled, it’s a whole different story. Imagine, you’ve dressed up to the nines. A knee-length emerald green off-the-shoulder dress and high heels. A baby pink heart pendant Tiffany bracelet and necklace completes the look.

You’ve transferred from your bright orange wheelchair to the front seat of the car. The driver revs the engine and backs out of the driveway. You settle in and the driver puts on the radio. Starving by Hailee Steinfeld and Zedd blasts out of the speakers. You arrive at your destination. The car comes to a complete stop. The driver gets out and opens your car door. He assembles your wheelchair and you transfer into the chair. The hem of your dress gets caught in the brakes. You wriggle free and smooth everything down. Making your way to the restaurant, butterflies in your stomach only increase your excitement.

The first thing you see are a flight of steps. The first question to rush through your mind is – How the hell am I going to get up there? You feel sad, disappointed, disillusioned, angry, fed up and yet not surprised. Your evening is ruined. The only solution is to be carried like a baby. You hate that option with every fibre of your being. Why should you be reduced to an object? A thing? Someone less than? This is how I feel every time I get to a place where steps greet me with a mocking tone. The swirl of emotions leaves me devastated and irate. The waves of irritation flow over me because of the inconvenience. No thought goes into the architecture. We are overlooked, unseen and disregarded. The land of steps ignores the needs of the differently abled and the elderly.

Let’s imagine another scenario. It’s Saturday and you’re excited to go visit your best friend. A pair of midnight leggings and a blue T-shirt is laid out on your bed. You get dressed slowly and make your way to the bathroom to get your make-up done. Fifteen minutes later, you’re out the door and in the car. You head towards Ikoyi (an area in Lagos). Honk, honk. The security guard walks up to your car and taps the window three times. Winding down the glass, you give your name. The wrought iron gate opens and the driver parks in the corner of the driveway. You get out, eager to begin your day of gisting and frivolity. The snow-white duplex looms over your car, casting a large shadow. You get to the front door; there are 3 steps serving as obstacles. Here we go again! I mean, what the hell dude?! The flurry of negative emotions and a feeling of helplessness come rushing back.

Your best friend grabs the front of the wheelchair and the driver grabs the back. You’re finally in! Surveying the environs, you notice a troubling theme. There are steps to get into the living room. Another set of steps to get into the TV room. To make matters worse, there are steps to the dining room. I mean, is there a flood coming that I’m completely unaware of? What were the architects thinking? The answer is nothing. The land of steps wins again! This is why we need to have conversations about the level of inaccessibility. We need to band together and draw attention to the gross negligence and disregard for others like me.

Those who don’t have the luxury of walking. We need to hold owners of establishments accountable and encourage them to make the necessary modifications. We need to raise awareness of these problems and work together to come up with the necessary solutions. The land of steps should be no more. It should become the land of inclusion. Don’t get me wrong; it’s going to be an uphill battle. People might not welcome the change. They will be concerned with costs of the modifications and their argument would be – how many wheelchair users actually roll through? We must encourage a shift in mentality so the bleeding hearts outweigh the skeptics.