LAGOS, NIGERIA — This is the itchy tale of Uncle Deji, a London-based Nigerian who learned the hard way that not all hotel towels are created equal, especially when returning to the motherland after 20 long years.
It began with excitement. After two decades of dodging UK rain, eating cold jollof, and bragging about Nigeria’s sunshine without actually experiencing it, Deji finally booked a trip back to Lagos. His younger brother, Kunle, who now owns a “boutique hotel” in Ikeja (read: a slightly decorated duplex with a big signboard), told him:
“Broda mi, just come home. I go put you for executive suite.”
Executive suite?
The room had working AC, a curtain that almost covered the window, and an LED TV with one working remote. Not bad. Deji was impressed… until shower time.
After his first hot Nigerian bucket bath, Deji reached for the hotel’s “freshly laundered” towel — neatly folded, smelling of lavender and “Detty Fresh Soap.” He thought he was safe.
“At least it smells clean,” he said, wrapping the towel around his waist like he was in a GQ spread.
Mistake Number One.
😬 Day 3: The Itch Begins
By the third day, the itching had spread like Nigerian gossip at a wedding.
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“It started around my waistline,” Deji confessed later.
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“Then it was on my thighs… then my navel… then my armpits. I thought it was Nigerian heat rash. I didn’t know I had just met scabies — the most disrespectful microscopic roommate on Earth.”
He rushed to a local pharmacy where the attendant took one look and whispered:
“Oga, this one na scabies. Na towel do you.”
Deji nearly fainted.
“Wait… towel? But it smelled so nice!”
The pharmacist laughed.
“You dey smell the detergent, no be hygiene. Some hotels dey rinse am, sprinkle perfume, and dry am for fence.”
🤷🏾♂️ WHY NOT JUST GIVE BOXERS?
According to Deji, this would never happen in the UK.
“In London, towels are machine-washed with industrial detergent, hot water, and dried at 200 degrees. Here, it’s bucket + detergent + prayer.”
He wondered aloud:
“Why can’t Nigerian hotels just give you disposable boxer shorts instead? Or charge for a new towel that you can take home? Like a towel souvenir.”
In fact, some high-end hotels abroad now offer “takeaway towels” and hotel robes for sale. Deji would’ve gladly paid ₦5,000 not to scratch like he was reenacting a Nollywood deliverance scene.
👀 The Brother’s Response
When confronted, Kunle (the hotelier brother) said:
“Ah! Na wah oh. But we dey wash towel na!”
Pressed further, he admitted:
“Sometimes, if the light no dey and the gen get fault, we go just soak am overnight with Dettol and dry am. Nobody don complain before. You be the first.”
Aha.
🛑 The Moral of the Itchy Story
If you’re a diaspora returnee planning a trip back home, here’s your scabies survival kit:
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Bring your own towel.
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Bring your own bedsheet.
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Bring your own boxer shorts (at least 5 pairs).
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Do not assume “clean-smelling” means “clean.”
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Lastly, don’t trust any hotel that says “executive” but gives you a room with a mosquito racket as wall decor.
😂 Final Words from Deji:
“I left London with a British accent and came back with a rash and an African lesson. Nigeria is not for the faint-hearted. But I still love this country. I just love it with my own towel now.”