We spend so much time complaining about Lagos — and rightly so — that we forget to document the miracles. Yesterday, I had one of those days that restored my faith in strangers. I was rushing to catch a bus at Ojuelegba, wallet in my back pocket, phone in my hand, chaos everywhere. I jumped into a keke, paid, and got down at Yaba. Ten minutes later, I reached for my wallet to buy water. Gone. My heart stopped. That wallet had ₦50,000 cash, my ATM cards, my ID, my driver's license, and a access card for my office. I retraced my steps in my mind and realized it must have slipped out at Ojuelegba while I was haggling with a bus conductor. I accepted it was gone. In Lagos? That money was already being spent in a beer parlor. I went to my bank to block my cards. As I stepped out, a rough-looking man approached me. Agbero vibes. Dirty shirt, red eyes, the whole stereotype. He said, "Oga, you be [My Name]?" I was terrified. Then he pulled out my wallet. Everything intact. Every single naira. He said he saw it fall from my pocket, chased the keke but couldn't catch it, and had been asking around for someone matching my ID photo. I cried. Right there on the street, I cried. I tried to give him ₦10,000. He refused. He said, "Oga, I be agbero, no be thief. I dey collect money for motor, no be for person pocket." I insisted. He took ₦2,000 "for pure water" and walked away. We demonize these street workers daily. We call them touts, thugs, nuisances. But this man had more integrity than some people in suits. Lagos is complex. Humanity is complex. When was the last time a stranger restored your faith in this city? Share your unexpected Lagos miracle.
