In the crush of Lagos traffic, where car horns and bus conductors usually set the rhythm, a different sound has begun to rise above the noise: a clear rock-inflected voice, a portable speaker, and the rustle of single red roses.

Bianca Clayrocksu Okorocha, a Nigerian rock artist known for her powerful vocals and edgy stage presence, has turned some of the city’s busiest corners into pop-up stages of tenderness. Instead of ticketed shows and bright lights, she walks up to unsuspecting strangers, sings them a love song, and hands them a flower.

It is a simple idea, but in a city where many residents battle long commutes, economic pressure, and constant uncertainty, the effect is disarming. People pause mid-stride, phones in hand, as Clayrocksu’s voice cuts through the din with familiar ballads and soft rock melodies. Confusion gives way to laughter, then to something quieter: a moment of being seen.

Clayrocksu says the project grew from a desire to push love beyond romantic clichés and glossy social media posts. For her, Valentine’s Day and its wider season should not be reserved for couples in restaurants, but opened up to bus drivers, market traders, office workers, and street vendors who rarely receive grand gestures.

She and her partner move through different neighborhoods, choosing people at random. Some are approached at bus stops, others outside shops or on their way to work. The reactions are as varied as Lagos itself. A few step back in surprise, unsure what is happening. Many end up grinning, clutching their rose as if it were a small trophy wrestled from the chaos of the day.

Clayrocksu insists that love, in this experiment, is deliberately inclusive. Men and women are serenaded in equal measure, a quiet challenge to the idea that public displays of affection and softness are reserved for women alone. One recipient, Olufemi Oyeyemi, said the unexpected attention made him feel special and blessed, a rare admission in a culture where men are often discouraged from expressing vulnerability.

In a city famed for its grind, Clayrocksu’s roaming performances are a reminder that tenderness can be public, loud, and shared with strangers. For a few minutes at a time, Lagos slows down, and its streets become a stage for unscripted joy.