"My pillow smells of King!"

And other tales of Nigerian beds I have known.

The Lung-Puncturer: The slightest roll or, heaven forbid, a bounce results in bruising and yelps of pain as thinning, moth-eaten material fails to protect delicate bodies from the rusting springs.

The Kings Bed: I shared this bed with another VSO the night after it had been vacated by a King. A very comfy night, but in the morning my slumber chum exclaimed, 'My pillow smells of King!' Mine did too and for those of you who want to know what King smells like it's rather like fusty old man.

The Foam Dipper: My own. The first night was comfy enough, but ever since I have been unable to escape my own me-dent that has cratered the left-hand side.

The Hundred Pound Pillow: What looks like a breeze block, has the texture and density of a vacuum packed sack of new potatoes and smells rather damp? My pillow in Port Harcourt.

The Slumbering Giant: (or Porn King). A colossus bed enjoyed by one lucky Lagos VSO. Huge and big and round, with satin-feel throws. Big enough to fit approximately seventy million people. Or maybe around 7.