Snapchat just reminded me of a memory from last March. It was a video of me in Medina Estate, Gbagada—dry-mouthed, sweat caked on my face, bemoaning a horrible showing I had just experienced. I should have suspected that the agent was about to let me down woefully when he kept asking me for the ₦2k showing fee, despite my explanations that I had already paid the agent who referred me to him. After a series of back-and-forth, he finally agreed, saying he was only doing it to help me.

Tired and thirsty from Ramadan, I met him around Deeper Life Gbagada. He took me to a building not far from where we met which was horrible! It reminded me of the cramped Lagos hostel in Unilorin. The stairs creaked and the steps were caked with dirt and the smell of stale fufu emanating from the drainage in front of the building almost made me throw up. I rejected the apartment before I saw the room. Then he took me to the second house which was worse, a death trap that was up a sloppy hill where all my enemy had to do was send a wind to nudge me gently as I roll down the steep and break my neck. At that point I decided to explain in detail what I wanted.

Self-con in a gated community or estate.

“Okay, ma.” Thinks awhile. Beckons at me. “Let’s go.”

So off we went, he and I in a keke, after perambulating under a hostile Lagos sun that seemed to be sucking the last bit of moisture out of me. When we alighted, he pretended to receive a phone call while I sorted the fare. Upon seeing Medina Estate, I was excited. The serenity. The sanity. This was until I got to the house and met something else entirely. The compound itself looked like something out of an old Nollywood movie—you know those films where a rich man who did money ritual dies, and his house becomes dilapidated and abandoned because the occupants kept hearing “Give me back my head! Give me back my head!!” at night?

I stood there; shoulders sagging in defeat.

House-hunting in Lagos? You will cry blood!

I saw it all—the shege, the waka, and the banza! It was so bad that I broke down one day and started asking God what I must have done so wrong to deserve this kind of punishment. From time to time, I asked myself: Are generator noises and my so-called need for privacy really worth all this suffering?

House-hunting in Lagos is not for the feeble-minded. It is for those who have swallowed mortar and are ready for the chaos and madness that comes with it. I mean, this is Lagos, everything comes encoded with a sprinkle of madness. It is written. One time, I broke down in tears along Morocco Road because a house I was ready to pay for got increased by ₦200k on the spot. The agent who had shown me the house had to physically lift me up in the middle of the road to start giving me a pep talk: “Kay, stop this. Pretty girls don’t fold.”

Wetin concern pretty with this one? I almost retorted.

I negotiated. I begged. I used God to hang their necks. But those greedy landlords and middlemen refused to budge. They all banded together to frustrate me.

That period I broke down my ordeal into the ABCDs of house hunting in Laygurssssss.

Agents. Bad Houses. Cost. Dos and Don’ts.

AGENTS – THE BANE OF A LAGOS HOUSE-HUNTER’S EXISTENCE
Agents are a necessary evil. You must have the utmost patience for them because they can either lobby for you to get a house or ruin your chances of getting one. At some point, agents were like talking stages because we communicated round the clock. I texted them first thing in the morning and late at night, setting up appointment times and double-checking the multiple pictures and videos they shared. I searched so hard that I started getting forwarded the same houses I had already inspected—multiple times in a day or week.

They are also quite greedy and irritable. Their main focus is their ₦2k first, which became ₦5k in the heat of my search and eventually ₦10k. One agent told me he only dealt with luxury houses only in Lagos. I asked if he had any in a nice estate on the mainland, he said no that he meant Lekki and its environs when he was referencing luxury. So, no luxury on the mainland I asked him. He smiled weakly. I asked where he lived, he said Bariga. Oh, you are not living in a luxurious place? His smile disappeared. Maybe that was why he angrily told me a house that was initially confirmed available in Pedro was suddenly unavailable. I met another agent on PropertyPro who uploaded cozy photos of apartments in Palmgrove and Ilupeju. I was sold and immediately paid the ₦10k he also charged, next thing  we ended up in a rowdy neighborhood in Mushin not far from Fadeyi.

“But I told you I wanted Ilupeju or Palmgrove.” I protested.
“Ehn, Mushin is Palmgrove/Ilupeju now. Same Same noni.”

I stared at the man in front of me—his face red from excessive bleaching, making him look permanently flushed. The blotches of hypopigmentation on his neck that looked like boiled chicken skin and his audacity to wear fake thick chains on that same neck.

“Mo n wa calm area like estate sir. I am looking for a serene estate-like neighbourhood”
“You go reach where the Indians dey stay niyen. I no get that connect. House no even dey there.”
“But you told me…” I was so frustrated I almost cried. I was already feeling woozy from fasting, so we had to fix another showing. Only for that man to disappear into thin air after and ignored further inquiries from me regarding inspections. My ₦10k probably went towards buying a sachet gin or an Oshaprapra 7 Days Fast Action Whitening Cream.

So, when an agent who had shown me a series of dilapidated houses in Gbagada the week prior texted me one fine afternoon with pictures of well-built, spacious apartments. I was elated.

“This is nice,” I responded.
“Deeh you like it?”
“Yes.”
“Which state are you from?” He texted back.
I ignored the unnecessary question “How much is the total package for what you sent, please?”
“I like to be your friends. And I am trying my best to get house for you.”

To my utmost surprise this agent went from 0 to 100, he started professing love for me. The same agent who, in typical agent fashion, followed me halfway home on our way back from an inspection, redirected the keke, and then dropped off without paying his fare, was now saying he loved me and would do anything for me?

“Okay, Oga, get me house since you love me so much.”

]

That became a problem. This man kept profusely expressing his undying love instead of getting me the necessary information about the apartment I wanted. By the time another agent tried getting information on the house for me, it was gone. Best believe I blocked him promptly!

I searched for house so much that I jammed a Ghanian house agent. Mr. Desmond Kwabena. We parted ways after he tried convincing me to rent a one bed for 1.7m yearly rent minus other charges. I refused and Mr. Kwabena changed it for me.

“But you told me on Mahnday that the house is okay. Now you cahm here today and you don’t want again? This is not very fair of you.”

Chale! I say I no do again.

I also experienced proper discrimination; No single girls. No women. No Yoruba. I was all three.

All for what? For houses so small that even shoeboxes have more breathable space than.

BAD HOUSES

Agents will tell you a place is hot cake and give you two minutes to get there, or the house will be gone. They will send photos taken at weird angles to mask the rubbish they want to show you, hoping you’ll be lured in. Maybe they believe a sudden miracle will occur. Maybe they have some jazz to use on you.

But you will always wonder why they are offering you ewa agoyin when you specifically asked for ofada rice.

“It’s not that bad nah, you go just paint am,” they will say about a house with spirogyra climbing up the walls.
“Just buy AC or fan, and you’re good to go. Ile Band A leleyi, this is Band A house,” they will say about a windowless apartment.

House-hunting in Lagos is a haunting experience. One of my friend’s colleagues got a self-con in Shomolu, which she was partly regretting because she found a bigger space elsewhere for less. She was already complaining about not being connected to electricity when she got home one day to find workers tiling the compound. She thought nothing of it until she realized they were tiling over the graveyard of the house owner, who had died and been buried there. Unluckily for her, the grave was directly in front of her bedroom window.

I was once offered a house in an uncompleted building, with the agent promising it would be finished by December. That was in October 2023. When I tell you they were still working on that house as of March 2024!!! Thankful for the head of my mother that was not asleep because I would have been on the streets of Fola Agoro with my hands on my head like a bush baby crying profusely from Ikija junction to Gbagada phase 2.

COST

If someone has the cheat code to securing decent accommodation in Lagos without selling a kidney, please comment below and plug others. Because it seems landlords assume everyone is into Yahoo or carrying guns with how exorbitant rent has become. Back in 2022–2023, self-contained apartments were around ₦400k–₦500k. Fast forward to 2024, rent alone has doubled! By the time you factor in agency and other fees, you’re paying almost ₦2m for a space that would be used as a store in your family house back home.
House-hunting in Lagos? LMAOOOOO.

DOs and DONT’S

DO
· Start searching for house 6 months in advance so you can properly sift through the nonsense they will try to offer you.
· Your research. Ensure you make inquiries about the neighbourhood. Debt if any. How the light is. If it floods during rainy season. Everything you can find out.
· Try to understand your would-be landlord temperament and if he would be residing in the compound with you.
· Have a list of your non-negotiables.
· PRAY IN THE NAME OF WHAT YOU BELIEVE IN.

DON’T
· Show desperation. They will package nonsense and convince you to pay.
· Take the first house they show you no matter how perfect it seemed.
· Allow agents convince you that your non-negotiables don’t matter you are the one who would stay in the house.
· Pay for a house without signing the necessary documentation before you meet someone else in the room you paid for.

There are probably more but these are what I have for you for now. It was a gruelling experience that I don’t miss at all and I am not eager to relive. Best believe when I eventually got my current apartment around the middle of last year. I sat a while on my bed recounting my experience and stress. Then I sent photos of the keys to my friends. They all celebrated and congratulated me. It was as if I bought the property myself. It was so bad getting an accommodation was part of my prayer points for Ramadan 2024. I was TIRED! But I was also lucky.

I was lucky to have amazing supportive friends. All my friends. Who held my hands through it all because trust me, it can drain you and run you mental.

House hunting in Lagos? May your patience and endurance for the higihagas be strong.