.png)
In an age where our lives are split between home, work, school, and screens, there exists another kind of space—a third space. A café in Lagos, a balcony in Port Harcourt, a WhatsApp chat buzzing at 2 a.m., a park bench in London—these spaces are not home, not work, not school, yet they quietly define us. They are where we breathe, reflect, create, or just exist.
For me, the beach in Badagry is the ultimate third space. Nothing beats the sand between your toes, the waves crashing, and the breeze that somehow makes all your worries feel like someone else’s problem. But beyond that, any body of water and my The Emecheta Collective WhatsApp group have always been sacred third spaces. The chat is the one place I can say anything unhinged, and the people listen, laugh, or roast me but never judge.
Philosophers, writers, and social scientists have long understood the power of place. Aristotle said, “We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, then, is not an act, but a habit,” and often the place we inhabit shapes that habit. Sociologists call these “third spaces,” but we all know them as that one spot where your brain finally takes a holiday while you’re still technically adulting.
So, where do people actually live outside home and work? We asked people what their third space is and the answers were hilarious, relatable, and sometimes deeply aspirational.
“Honestly, Café One in Lagos. I come here at least three times a week, not just for the coffee but to actually think. It’s the only place I feel like I can breathe and plan without distractions. I realized it mattered when I noticed I’d become anxious at home, but here, I can reset.” Tobi, 27, Lagos
“My WhatsApp group chat with friends from uni. Even when I’m physically alone, it’s like a room full of people cheering me on or roasting me. During lockdown, I realized this space was my sanity. And honestly, without it, I probably would have been posting my diary entries publicly just to get validation.” Kemi, 24, Abuja
“The gym. I used to see it just as a place to work out, but over time it became my escape, my mental space. After a rough week at work, an hour there and everything felt manageable again. Plus, the occasional flex in the mirror counts as therapy.” Samuel, 32, Lagos
“My balcony. Ten minutes every morning with music and plants has become my meditation spot. I realized its impact when I started looking forward to those ten minutes more than anything else at home. Neighbors probably think I’ve lost my mind, but let them. Peace is priceless.” Chidera, 29, Port Harcourt
“The library. There’s something about being surrounded by books that makes me feel grounded. I didn’t understand its value until I was cramming for exams at home and couldn’t focus. Here, focus comes naturally. Also, I get to judge people silently. Bonus.” Ada, 21, Ibadan
“The beach in Cape Town. Watching the waves gives me calm and perspective. I didn’t realize how important it was until I moved back from a stressful job abroad. Pro tip: sand in your shoes is a small price for serenity.” Lethabo, 30, South Africa
“A little tea house in Accra. I go there to sketch and write. It’s a quiet bubble where city noise doesn’t reach me. Missed it for a month, and my creativity went MIA. Ghanaian tea vibes are better than stress vibes.” Nana, 26, Ghana
“The community art studio in Kigali. It’s where I meet like minded people and work on my projects. This space became vital when I was recovering from burnout. Who knew painting on canvas could be cheaper than therapy?” Aline, 28, Rwanda
“A café near my flat in London. More than coffee. It’s the ambiance, the people, the little corner I call mine. I realized its importance when my flat felt like a noisy tin can.” Jasmine, 25, London
“The local park. Jogging and sitting on a bench reading has become my therapy. I noticed I needed it when stress at work was too much, and this space was the only place I could decompress. Bonus: squirrels for company.” David, 31, Manchester
“My co-working space in Toronto. Sounds corporate, but it’s where I do my personal projects, meet friends, and think. I realized its value when I was forced to work from home and productivity nosedived. Who knew a desk could be so therapeutic?” Priya, 29, Toronto
“The gym in Brooklyn. Beyond exercise, it’s a mental reset. I didn’t appreciate it until I tried working from home full time and missed the routine that kept me sane. Also, those protein shakes are mood boosters. Science, I swear.” Marcus, 34, New York
Third spaces are not just physical locations. They are emotional anchors. Across continents and cultures, people are discovering that these spaces give them clarity, creativity, and calm. Whether it’s a café in Lagos, a balcony in Port Harcourt, or a park in Manchester, the places we inhabit outside our daily responsibilities are quietly shaping who we are.
As the urbanist Ray Oldenburg wrote in The Great Good Place, “Third places are the heart of a community’s social vitality.” They are spaces where we recharge, reflect, and relate, not to anyone else’s demands but to ourselves. Or in the words of your WhatsApp chat friends: a safe space to rant, laugh, and sometimes roast with zero judgment.
Maybe that’s the true power of the third space: the quiet freedom to just be.
We’ve come to the end of this installment of our Vox Pop series. Join us here next week for another serving of real stories from real people. If you’d like to contribute, head to our Instagram Stories on Thursdays and Saturdays, where you’ll find a form and our question of the week.
