Culture Custodian Editorial Team. Anyways as I have moved back for almost a year now, I have acquainted myself with a few essential spots here in Lagos. I mainly go there to wax. But on this day, I decided to go get a massage instead because the spa I usually patronize was fully booked for the weekend.
I phoned in and booked an appointment that same day. I went for a meeting on the mainland that went on longer than I had planned, got stuck in traffic before I finally made it for my appointment; exhausted.
I just wanted to relax. I was directed to the treatment room where the therapist gave me disposable underwear and a hairnet. First, the therapist looked pretty upset and I tried to make small conversation with her before she left me to undress hoping to get a warm feeling from her but I got nothing. She left. As I was undressing, I could hear everything that was going on in the treatment room beside mine, which was separated by a sliding door. A woman was speaking loudly on her phone in Igbo.
When my therapist came back in, because I could hear all the noise from next door, I told her I only wanted a 60 minute massage. The massage started off with her mopping my whole body with a hot towel, which gave me a cold chill. She massaged my body with lukewarm oil.
She rounded up each area and massaged with a karate chop motion and then patted the area down as though her hands were cymbals and my body part just happened to be in between the two instruments. This made it almost impossible to relax. To make matters worse, because I had complained about my neck hurting, whatever oil or cream she put on my neck had a burning sensation, like the Deep Heat cream or Aboniki balm.
