What the AJ accident reveals about Detty December: On loss and the systems we rely on
إِنَّا لِلّهِ وَإِنَّـا إِلَيْهِ رَاجِعونَ
Indeed, we belong to Allah, and indeed to Him we return.
Sina Ghami and Latif Kevin Ayodele did not make it home.
They lost their lives in a road traffic accident in Lagos, Nigeria. Anthony Joshua sustained minor injuries. A stationary truck had reportedly been left on the roadside. Investigations will determine what happened.
What matters most is remembering that this was a tragic loss of life. Two families are grieving. Two futures were cut short.
In moments like this, care in language matters. The focus is on acknowledging loss and holding space for those affected, including friends, colleagues, and loved ones. As conversations continue, the hope is that this moment is treated with the seriousness it deserves and remembered for the human cost when things go wrong.
Beyond this specific incident, there is a wider context that deserves attention.
In many parts of Nigeria, daily life carries an elevated level of risk shaped by gaps in the systems meant to protect people. Roads are poorly lit or inadequately maintained. Traffic moves without reliable enforcement. Hospitals are stretched. Emergency response often depends on proximity, private access, or chance.
When something goes wrong, survival frequently hinges on factors outside a person’s control.
This is why many deaths are both tragic and preventable, shaped by the absence of consistent infrastructure, coordinated emergency services, and systems designed with human life at the centre.
Detty December shows Nigeria at one of its most visible moments. The movement, the music, the joy, the scale. It is real and it is powerful. But it is not the full picture.
For many in the diaspora, the experience is intense but temporary. We arrive for peak moments and leave shortly after. We feel the energy without carrying the long-term risk. The realities that follow, traffic congestion, overcrowding, stretched services, remain with those who stay.
The surge in spending does not automatically translate into stronger public systems. In some cases, it adds pressure. Higher costs, heavier congestion, greater strain, without corresponding investment in safety, transport, healthcare, or emergency response.
None of this erases the beauty of Nigeria. That beauty lives in its people. In their generosity, creativity, humour, and resilience. But resilience should not be confused with safety, and adaptation should not be mistaken for adequacy.
No one should have to navigate constant exposure to danger as a condition of everyday life.
Speaking honestly about infrastructure gaps is an act of care. When these realities go unnamed, people are left exposed. If love for home is real, it has to extend beyond celebration. It has to include responsibility in how we move, how we spend, and how we speak. It also requires resisting the urge to romanticise survival or to consume joy while ignoring fragility.
There are practical realities within this conversation as well. In cities like Lagos and Abuja, private emergency response services exist because public systems are overstretched. Awareness of this can save lives, but it should also give pause. A society should not require private access to timely medical care after an accident.
This moment should not pass quietly. It should remain with us as a reminder of what is at stake.
The true cost of Detty December is not measured in flights, outfits, or nights out. It is measured in what happens when something goes wrong, and who is left to bear the consequences.
Lives depend on that distinction.
اللّهُمَّ اجْعَلْ مَثْوَاهُمَا الْجَنَّة
O Allah, grant them Paradise.
Journal Entry
December, London, UK
