Lagos rains could get unpredictable, one minute, the sky is clear; the next, the city is drenched. Lately, the showers have been brief and scattered, signaling the slow end of the rainy season. The streets glisten for a moment before the sun reclaims them. In those reflections — on puddles, glass, and car doors. The city catches a glimpse of itself before the next rush begins.

This is also the season when Lagos shifts gears. The calendar fills with outdoor events, conferences, concerts, and art shows; everyone is in motion, chasing light, chasing connection, chasing the year’s last stretch before Christmas holidays. The city feels restless,  part rain, part celebration and a massive anticipation of harmattan and the dry season. It is Lagos seeing itself in transition — a mix of exhaustion and excitement, struggle and sparkle.

Through my lens, I look for these moments when the city pauses, even if briefly. The erratic weather leaves behind more than puddles — it leaves poetry in motion, fragments of color and chaos suspended in water and glass.

Lagos is a city of constant reinvention. Every reflection hints at something new — a version of itself still forming, yet deeply familiar. In these weeks, reflections tell layered stories: the residue of rain beside party flyers, puddles mirroring billboards, headlights cutting through wet roads. As the rains fade and the year rushes toward its festive climax, the city feels both weary and alive.

Eyes of a Lagos Boy, Lagos remains a mirror — reflecting its noise, its rhythm, its endless drive to move forward, even when soaked, shining, and running out of days.

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