By Tony Iwuoma
On a hot afternoon in Lagos, Alaba International Market buzzes like a living organism. Igbo traders call out prices for electronics in quick Igbo-English pidgin, while Yoruba shopkeepers argue with them in Yoruba-laced banter.
Bargaining is intense, voices are loud, but behind the noise lies a rhythm of trust: credit extended across ethnic lines, partnerships formed in cramped offices, apprenticeships that cut across ancestral origins.
At one stall, Chijioke, an Igbo importer, laughs as his neighbour, Bamidele, a Yoruba distributor, jokingly accuses him of being “too sharp.” Chijioke fires back, “And you Yoruba, you like to calculate everything!” Both men laugh. The stereotypes are alive, but in this moment, they are softened into jokes, not weapons. They know their livelihoods depend on each other.
