It takes some skill to create a petrol famine in the world's sixth biggest producer of crude oil, but Nigeria seems to have acquired the knack.
Petrol shortages have always been a feature of life in this teeming west African country, but lately the problem has been worse than ever. Huge lines of cars and danfos (minibuses) stretch themselves in front of any available petrol station in search of the elusive fuel (pronounced "foo-el" here).
Latecomers head straight for the front of the queue, progressively blocking off the remaining lanes. The result is total traffic paralysis, known euphemistically as a "go-slow". By the time you get out of these jams, it's usually time to start looking for your next fuel fix.
Everyone has a theory as to the causes of the shortages. Some reckon the military, who ruled the country until 1999, are making sure the civilian President Olusegun Obasanjo knows who is boss. Other believe President Obasanjo is softening up the population for a price rise. And everyone knows the national petroleum company is hopelessly corrupt.
With petrol costing as little as 15p a litre, a flourishing trade has grown up in which the fuel is illegally exported to neighbouring countries and then reimported at a much higher price. The officials pocket export and import levies and the black market dealers make a handy profit.
To my eyes, Lagos is traffic hell. Africa's biggest city is permanently choked with handme-downs, ancient Toyotas and Peugeots that belch acrid black fumes into the humid air.
This city of 15 million has next to no road signs, no traffic lanes, no pavements and not a single functioning set of traffic lights. The only rule is that there are no rules. Cars race like ants in every direction and squeeze into any available space in the traffic, all the time pounding their horns and flashing their lights non-stop. Every vehicle seems permanently destined for collision with its neighbour, only to back off at the last moment.
But the go-slows are good news for the city's hawkers, who ply their wares precariously between the stuttering traffic. Water, food, ironing boards, handbags - who needs a drive-in supermarket when the shopping comes to you? Want a chicken? Alive or dead? See that boy holding the rat by the tail? No, he's not selling rats, he's selling rat poison!
Those not selling are usually begging. Even the blind are led into the melee in search of alms, while legless skateboarders fly up and down the lanes of traffics, their hands barely reaching up to the car windows.
It's a miracle more people aren't killed on the roads, but then with 6,797 traffic fatalities last year, maybe it's not such a miracle after all. The country's chief road traffic policeman blames the carnage on Nigerian culture, including the belief of drivers that their place of death is determined by destiny, and their reliance on voodoo instead of brake-pads.
Unusually for a former British colony, Nigerians drive on the right - except when they drive on the left, and that's when you least expect it. On the left, down the central margin, on hard shoulders - cars can come from any direction at any time.
The only control is exercised by "yellow fevers", brightly dressed men and women on point duty who remain cheerful in spite of being ignored more often than not. Street cleaning is carried out by hand, by teams of women bent over with small brushes in their hands.
Driving outside the cities is less stressful. Traffic volumes are lighter and the roads aren't too bad by African standards. But you still have to watch out for armed gangs, jack-knifed lorries, burning buses, dropped loads, spilled oil, begging lepers who stray in front of your car, and a hundred other hazards.
Then there are the local toll collectors. Not the official ones in their booths who charge 10 naira (8p) per stretch of highway, but the ad hoc bands of locals who brandish long poles studded with nails that threaten to bring your journey to a premature end.
On a recent journey from Benin City to Lagos, I encountered several such groups, none of which was troubled by the presence of armed police only yards away. Apparently, the worst thing to do is to pull in by the side of the road, in which case you're sure to end up paying something or, worse still, have to haggle for hours over the toll.
Instead, you should stop in the middle of the carriageway, thereby making a nuisance of yourself to other drivers, and increasing the likelihood that you'll be sent on your way quickly.
Or else you can, as my driver did, swerve and head straight for the tollsters, hoping they - and their sticks - will get out of the way.
There's some talk of an underground being built in Lagos - not a day too soon. But when I complain about the traffic to my Nigerian friends, all they say is: "But we have a petrol shortage now. You should see it when it's really bad".
