things I notice when I'm outside

If you pay close attention, you'll catch life and the beautiful things in it

I don’t go out often, but when I do, I pay attention.
To the loud things, like the honking or the heat, they’re hard to ignore. To the quiet choreography of daily life. The way the city breathes when no one’s watching. I love taking in my surroundings because it’s one of the few times I’m not locked in on my phone, reading an argument on the internet.

I notice things. Little things. Ordinary things. The kind you miss when your head is down or your mind is elsewhere.

Like the way the sun kisses your skin-not gently, but aggressively, like it has a score to settle. The kind of heat that wraps around you without permission, stubborn and unrelenting. To the point where you’re begging for the breeze.
And you watch as the breeze rushes past like it’s late for something, then loops back like it forgot you. It’s not reliable, but when it comes, you’re grateful.

Like the way the birds fly high up in the sky, flaunting their freedom like it’s their birthright because it is. They chirp and call out to each other in words only they understand.

Then I start to notice people.
The man on a bike, speeding through traffic, eyes locked ahead. Then, slowing down, in search of passengers to pick up.
Like the keke driver arguing with a passenger who swears the agreed price was ₦200, not ₦300. Their voices rise, fall, rise again, it’s familiar music in these streets. Loud, dramatic, but alive.

Like the group of men crowding around a newspaper stand, deep in political debate. They argue about fuel prices, dollar rates, and who’s to blame for Nigeria’s woes. Their voices layer over each other, passionate, like actors in a street play, only they understand. The little man behind them who wants to chip in, but is too shy to find the right moment.
The newspaper vendor counting his change, unfazed by the noise around him. He’s done this long enough to know their voices are just for show. And they’ll be back tomorrow to repeat the same words.

I notice things like the roasted corn woman, a few steps away, setting up her stall. It is still half-assembled, but her hands already move with muscle memory. The sun is unforgiving, and she’s fanning herself with folded carton while shouting at her little son not to wander too far.

There’s movement everywhere. Honking. Screaming. Rushing.
Some people are haggling over prices with street vendors. Others are laughing, catching up with friends they bumped into by chance. Life doesn’t pause here. It flows over.

credits- pinterest

The tomato seller is yelling “Buy fresh tomato!” with the energy of someone auditioning for a market reality show, except this isn’t a performance. It’s her everyday hustle.
The meat seller whistles as a couple strolls past, flashing a grin and gesturing toward his fresh cuts, trying to charm them into buying.

Kids in school uniforms flood the streets, their voices bouncing off with the wind. Some are racing each other, excited that school is over for the day. Others drag their feet, heads down-maybe because they failed a test, maybe just tired from the stress of school.

Everywhere I turn, someone is doing something. Existing. Not stuck on their phone. They’re hustling, selling, arguing, singing, laughing, surviving.
Some are headed somewhere with joy in their steps. Others walk slowly, carrying invisible weights.
But they’re all moving, crossing paths without knowing it, brushing shoulders with strangers they may, or may not, meet again.

And somehow, it all moves together.
People, noise, sun, smells, footsteps, wind-it all moves like an unscripted play. Everyone playing their human part, whether they know it or not.

credits- pinterest

These are the things I notice when I’m outside.
Not the noise, but the noise too. And the rhythm beneath it.
The beauty in the chaos.
The quiet truth that life is happening, irrespective of how shitty your day might be. It’s happening always, all around us, even when we’re too busy to see it.

It doesn’t care if you’ve lost someone or you’re having a bad day. If you just won the lottery or got engaged. It moves! It breathes, and it’s alive!

I love noticing every little thing because that’s what makes life, LIFE. Amidst the chaos, we all play a part, even the trees, or the warm ground under our feet, or the breeze caressing our skin. We’re all moving together, in our own rhythm.

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