My Lagos Experience – XperENs 20

Morning:

These days, waking up is an ordeal, several minutes after several snoozes of my alarm, I would still be in bed, trying to decide if I should get up or just call in sick, until I remember the saying “No food for lazy man!”

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Aha! Food, I love food too much. After I manage to get up, I text my colleague to buy me jollof rice. The jollof rice ehn, no be play play. The hope of eating the jollof rice makes me want to get to the office on time. Did I hear someone say there is jollof better than Nigerian jollof? Don’t let me catch you o!

newwwwww

Anyways, traffic has been somewhat unfriendly, and so I have to shuffle between okada and buses. I have become an ardent traffic forecaster. I can look at the bus-stop and tell you where you are likely to encounter traffic. Speaking of talents…lol

duff

So I left the house and could not find any bus to Iyanaba. Why? The bus drivers were on strike. The agberos in charge wanted to increase the daily payment, “owo loading” and “owo booking”…When I could not get a bus, I resorted to breaking the journey. I opted for keke and about thirty minutes later, I was at Iyanaba.

I took one look at the bus-stop and decided I would do okada today. I found a bike, donned my nose mask and scarf and the journey began. I was glad I had chosen okada. There was so much traffic, what caused it I cannot say. At a point, even the okadas were stuck in traffic.

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We continued on to Mile 2 uneventfully. We passed the major roads and so apart from traffic here and there, there was nothing happening. I was able to steal a glance and noticed that the net was missing from the tyre-net house. How they are coping in this weather, I have no idea, let’s just hope that they have found a better place to stay. The tyres were still neatly stacked though.

Ehen, I saw one vehicle branded  “Lagos Neighbourhood Safety Corps” close to Mile 2. Abbeg who those ones be again?

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Anyways, from Mile 2, I continued on to Doyin. I got to the office in one dusty piece.

Evening:

I left the office around 6:30pm and after waiting several minutes at the bus-stop. I got to Doyin and as the bahd traffic forecaster that I am, I studied the bus-stop and concluded the roads would be free. I decided to go the straight route.

I found a bus and was about to board when the conductor started shouting “Iyanaba Volks two hundred o…” You say wetin? I jumped down. Even those inside already got off. The fare was supposed to be a hundred and fifty naira at most, and according to reports, he initially said one-fifty to those who had boarded already. When he saw many people trying to get on, he increased the price by fifty naira. When he saw people getting off to other buses, nobody tell am, im head reboot, and he reverted to one-fifty.

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I boarded and was flanked by two people munching furiously. The man on my left was eating corn, the lady on my right, oranges.

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The man spread his legs wide, I asked him to sit properly so that we would be comfortable, he acted like the corn had plugged his ears and ignored me. Me ke? When gallop dey? I no talk o, as we reach the gallop, bus shake, me sef push am, leg close. What is my big bum for please? I learnt this trick a long time ago.

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The two “munchers” were throwing either orange seeds or corn seeds on my feet. I just begged them to look at the ground before throwing anything. Soon after, the conductor began collecting his money and the man muncher had to push me to get this money out of his pocket. Men, but why? Please always take out your fare and phone before sitting. No be say una go come dey push us for inside tight bus because una wan pay money. Mschewwwww…

Pouttt

Just as we got to Abule-ado, a teenage girl sitting on her brothers legs screamed. We all asked what happened and she said her slippers fell off her feet, and the bus was on full speed. The mother was beside her and she immediately shouted “Whish slippers? I pray o…” it registered immediately that she was a Warri woman.

“Better con dan go find am o, something wey I buy 1700, and e never reach two months…”

Everyone burst out laughing, mostly because of her tone.

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The daughter tried to explain that she was not balanced and that was why the slippers fell off. The mom again said “No worry, tomorrow you go balance with one leg. Agbalagba wey slippers go fall from im leg…I pray o…”

We were all busy laughing and when we got to the next bus-stop, the woman gave her children money to go back and find the slippers. We continued on until we reached Barracks and met the traffic of our lives. We got word the traffic went as far as Iyanaba. I got ready to alight and take okada.

I find okada sotayyyyyy, I no gree see. I saw people walking and decided to walk a little further before taking an okada. Na so I waka o, no okada wanted to go to Iyanaba. And so the trekking continued. Now, according to Google, the distance from Barracks to Iyanaba is 2.6km and that is seven minutes by car. Me wey don tire already, it took me about thirty-five minutes to walk down there. I was so scared walking, na so so man I dey see. So no woman was “gangster” like me? Wawu! I slung my bag across my chest while practicing some Kung-Fu moves in my head. I was busy walking leisurely until I saw a man sitting on the ground with so much hair on his head and face like a lion’s mane. The man was busy with a wrap of weed. I doubled up instantly, before lion go bite me.

lion

Fortunately, I didn’t get to use the moves but by the time I reached Iyanaba, my feet were dead. I tried to cross the road and then one man just came in front of me from nowhere, eating orange and walking like the orange had alcohol in it. I moved away, only to hear one woman beggar say something in Hausa to her child. I didn’t understand what she said, but she obviously had told the child I was a likely giver because the child came for me.

“Aunty abbe….”

Abbeg abbeg abbeg, u sef aunty, just leave me alone.

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I was so tired aunty sounded like a curse to me. I finally crossed the road and got a bus to Okoko. As I was about to alight, my left leg hit a stone and my sandals cut. I was too weak to be angry. I dragged the feet like that because it was already too late to find a shoe mender. I could not even find slippers to buy.

While I was dragging myself to the park, a man saw me and started blabbing…

“Oh baby, if to say I don see you since, I for carry you. Fine woman like this, see your leg, e no suppose to dey waka for this kind place.

Welldone

I rolled my eyes. Where was he when I was walking from Barracks to Iyanaba? Na so! Make I no waka for the road, make I waka for sky.

I didn’t even say a word. I stopped and he stopped too. He asked me to board the same bus with him. I just looked at the person talking, old man with black tees and one Baba Sala baggy jeans. He even had a big chain on…Wow! Tupac is alive…!

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I just walked further and boarded a bus and made sure to sit where he would not get in beside me. I soon got to my bus-stop and dragged my feet to the house.

It was almost 10:27pm when I opened my door.

faint

 

 

 

 

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My Mushin-Ikotun Experience – XperENs 19

And so it happened that I went MIA all over again. I promise not to let it ha…

Keep quiet

Oh, sorry, I need to swear with the “golden staff” and right now I cannot find it…

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For about a week and some, I was going to work from around Jakande Gate, Ikotun. When I decided to spend some time with my in-laws, I thought I was going to take a break from traffic, I was deceiving myself.

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The traffic on that road is a big no no. As much as I have gotten used to Badagry expressway traffic, the Mushin-Ikotun traffic is a horror movie.

My route from work was Shitta—-Mushin(Isolo way)—-Ikotun.

The journey from work to Shitta and Mushin was by keke. To find the keke was a big problem. In the evenings, getting a keke to Shitta is not usually easy and then on getting to Shitta, one would have to join a long queue and wait endlessly to board another keke to Mushin.

exas

Even all this was not that big a problem for me. My horror story usually began from Mushin. Once I got off at Mushin, getting an Ikotun bus was an ordeal. There were okada men plying that route as well, usually four hundred naira for two people who would pay two hundred naira each, or five hundred naira on days when traffic was really bad. Once it was evening however, no okada man wanted to go to Jakande gate anymore. I get money I no fit spend am. Mschewwww…

Mschew

I would leave the office on time in a bid to get home early, only to spend half of my evening at Mushin. I just resigned myself to the whole thing and after I succeeded in getting a bus, I would just try to sleep or play candy crush. Did I say sleep? Indeed…! The narrow, bumpy roads with numerous potholes would not even let me sleep in peace.

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Another funny matter was that most of the roads were not one-way lanes, you had vehicles going in opposite directions on the same narrow road. It felt like the 1960’s.

I would become a grub-on-transit because I had to sit long hours in the traffic doing nothing. Out of want of something to do, I would choose to eat. Oh! How I love food! I would buy gala, fanta, plantain chips and all sorts, all would be consumed and I would still be in traffic. Which kind life?

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I usually suffer from motion sickness. It had been sometime since the last episode which was even really mild, but this Mushin-Ikotun journey brought it all back in full force. Some days, after buying all sorts to munch on the way, I would end up not eating any for fear of throwing up.

The best part of my stay was getting home to family and food.

Fooooddd

In the mornings, the journey was not half as bad. In fact it was not bad at all. On days when my brother in-law drove to work, it was paradise for me. We would leave early and get to Mushin in no time. I always arrived the office before eight o’clock.

One particular day however, there was “tanker-mania” at Apapa and it affected the surrounding environs. I don’t know why this usually happens but I just notice there are tankers everywhere on some days. I had to trek some before getting a keke from costain to the office. It was not funny but then, after plying Badagry expressway for years, it is safe to conclude that I am the Queen of Trekkers. I should have trekked to see Buhari when he won the election. Maybe I would be a minister by now, “Minister of Travels…”

Tongue

Another thing I noticed was that at Mushin, the waste disposal method is as bad as that of Badagry expressway, if not worse. But, going closer to Ikotun, the people there would pack the refuse in bags, but still drop them on the road. Still bad, but better than just pouring them on the road. LAWMA, LAWMA, LAWMA….Come and do your work o!

Lagos in itself needs a lot of work, not just on the environment, but on us the inhabitants as well. No one cares in Lagos, people just go with the flow, and the flow is usually bad. Dumping refuse indiscriminately and passing waste indiscriminately as a result of which roads which would ordinarily be beautiful have been reduced to nothing.

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Instead of taking in the beauty of our environment, we are left to take in both the horrible sight and smell of waste. I think we need some fresh air already.

KAI….report for duty immediately!

kai

And yes, I miss my lovely in-laws.

Hearttt

My Lagos Experience – XperENs 18

Yesterday, I closed really late because I had a lot of catch up to do. I left the office around 8:00pm.

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On getting to Doyin, I just said a silent prayer asking God for guidance and then boarded a bus going through the straight route instead of passing through Second Rainbow. At the end of the day, it was not a bad choice.

But the bus was a very bad choice. I went to the back seat where I thought would be comfortable. It was, until two men sat in front of me. The front seat was a bit bad, the back rest was not firm any longer. Once the men leaned back, they pressed the life out of my knees. I tried to explain to them and they sat upright, only for them to start sleeping later in the journey. I tried my best to push the seat forward with my knees. Worse still, some big men got in beside me and I immediately shrunk to a size six. It was too late to get off. I didn’t even have the energy to find another bus.

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The journey was unusually smooth for the straight route, no traffic, we sped all the way to Alakija without any hassles. People seemed to be pooping a lot this evening though, and without shame. I mean, where have Lagosians kept their shame? Chai!

Right under the street lamps, shining brightly, people were busy pooping. Maybe they have the illusion that the lights would make their bums glisten and look beautiful, I have no idea. On second thought, they probably wanted to make sure they noticed anything that crawled out from the surrounding grasses. I counted about five men pooping under the lamps at different points, bums in full view.

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Thankfully we were past the shit kingdom in no time.

The traffic demon was somewhere I don’t care about, but thankfully not Alakija. Alakija was unbelievably free. We stopped for a bit and continued on after some passengers alighted. Just after Alakija, the driver connected to one of the roads under construction. He had to pay a hundred naira to go through. Imagine! Even CCECC workers dey hustle outside hustle. Passing that route was however the best thing the driver did. The main road was blocked at several points on the way to Volks. Though slightly bumpy, we were able to pass through the roads without having to deal with traffic.

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At Volks, the traffic resumed. I got off and decided to walk, only to realize I was really tired. I tried to find a bike to Iyanaba but it was difficult because I had no change. Finally, one okada man agreed to take me there and then surprisingly, he did not collect money. I thanked him and left.

As I moved on to find another bus, this guy just walked really fast up to me and started reciting his lines “Aunty, please help me with my trans…” Say what? I no let am land, I retorted immediately, “Please just get lost!”

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Rude, right? Okay, I’ll tell you why. This guy needs transport every time I meet him. Everyday, same story. I don’t know if he thinks I will not recognize him or if he cannot recognize me either. I don’t understand why he keeps coming to me. The funny part is that once you shout, he takes off as if to save his life and then moves on to another person. Usually, i just ignore him but today, I was in no mood for that.

I got to the park and there was no bus. I stood a long time waiting and finally, one came. See rushing. I managed to find myself inside. A woman had gotten in before me with her child. She just sat and spread her legs and her child sat in-between. At least your child can sit on your legs and not in-between. We were two more on the seat and she made us uncomfortable. I tried to ask her to adjust but she just ignored me. Me abi? Okay.

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I knew the woman was trouble so I waited pateintly for the pothole area where the bus would shake. As soon as the bus did, I used the opportunity to push her legs closed. I’m bad, I’m bad, you know it…

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The man at the end and I finally sat comfortably.

When the driver asked for his money, I brought out five hundred naira. The man beside me had a hundred naira and he gave it to me. The woman with the child was with money in her hand though I was not sure how much it was. I kindly asked her how much she wanted to pay. She said “Wait make I check”, took several minutes to dig in her purse and then brought out a battered hundred naira. She was looking at me pointedly, probably waiting for me to say something so she could pounce on me. Me ke? Good girl that I am, I took a good look at the money and decided it was not that bad, if I could not spend it on any other thing, I would use it for fuel.

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She was disappointed. I gave the driver five hundred naira and paid for the three of us. I collected my change and faced front jeje. She got off a few moments later with her wahala.

I got home at about 9:30pm, not bad considering the time I left the office.

I had to finish last week’s post and before I could lie down and wake up, it was already 5:30am. Which kind thing be this?

I sleep-walked through the first thirty minutes trying to do little stuff around the house. I ended up leaving home around 7:30am. Thankfully, I got a bus as soon as I reached the bus-stop. By the time I got to Iyanaba, it was 8:00am. I got on the bus hopeful again that there would be no traffic. My hope was well placed.

I noticed several people sleeping on the road slabs. Na wa o! People can just relax anywhere they choose or what? I even noticed several shacks built with wood and sacks along the road. I know life is hard and a lot of people are homeless, but then, all these things are risky. The homeless people in the streets, can’t the country just do something for them? Some may be hoodlums, and atrocities may be going on in those shacks. And to think our policemen will be there waiting to “catch” people in the wrong always, instead of watching over us and helping us when necessary.

Mscheww

We continued traveling smoothly.  Around Alakija however, I noticed that buses were not going through the alternate route. I kept that in mind until we reached Mile 2. At Mile 2 there was a bit of traffic and so many passengers. Being conversant with the roads, I sensed there was more to it and quietly crossed over and took an okada instead. That was a priceless decision. There was traffic around Apapa and it had affected the environs. No buses, too many passengers, too may bike men hustling for passengers, double bus fare for buses that cared to deal with the traffic and all-what-nots.

I just got on the okada and we zoomed off in peace. Thankfully, we sped past urine valley as well, no trekking. I got off and walked to the keke point.

Na so I jam Oga-bad-manners, the keke driver from the other time. I just went to the next one silently. A guy got to his keke and wanted to sit in front, he asked the guy not to.

“Oga abbeg, you no fit stay here…”

“Why na?”

“I say you no fit stay here, e no go reach us, you go dey nack me abbeg…”

The guy went to the back quietly. I was just observing. Next thing I knew, another guy came, roughly same size as the previous guy and the driver allowed him sit in front. Una sure say this man dey okay? Well, I don’t know how he selects his front passengers, na him sabi.

Immediately the new guy sat, the one behind got angry.

“Oga, shebi u say make I no siddown there? Now this man and me wetin be the difference?”

“Abbeg, abbeg, abbeg oooo, if you no wan stay back come down, na you go tell me wetin I go do?”

“Which kind rubbish talk be that? You no sabi talk o, ahn ahn, see this man o…”

“I don talk my own finish, if you no want…”

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I shook my head as our keke left the park. I got to the office at 9:05am.

 

Ehen…before I forget, here are some of the pictures I took.

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Iyanaba Bus-Stop
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Man carrying five goats on okada
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Man carrying five bags of rice on okada
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Truck pusher
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Beggars sitting idle at the bus-stop
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Beggar and her child
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Truck pushers on the express

 

 

 

My Lagos Experience – XperENs 17

So it’s Monday, and just as I said I would, I stood true to my word and took the bus instead.

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I left home at 7:00am, hoping for the best. I got to Iyanaba and headed for the buses. My agbero friends greeted me and asked, “Mama, you no enter okada today?” I smiled at them as I said a “no”.

I was the first passenger on the bus. It was morning so I hoped the bus would get full on time. Also, I needed a comfortable spot to be able to take pictures. I got in and sat close to the window. In a few minutes, all the other seats were occupied and then the journey began. The people beside me were just busy moping because I was holding a camera, their eyes were even snapping the pictures before I got the chance to click my camera. Hian!

Horrified2

The journey was way smoother than I expected. No traffic except for when we got close to Alakija. Even the traffic at this point was not that bad. Within a few minutes, we had gone past the traffic. Just after we passed Alakija, a danfo bus hit a “God is Good” bus and broke his right blinker. The GIG driver just stopped in the middle of the road, blocking the danfo driver, supposedly to prevent him from escaping. The danfo driver was forced to stop too.

The GIG driver got off his bus and went over to confront the danfo driver. The danfo driver, still seated in his bus tried to apologize but the GIG driver would not hear any of it. He was ranting and raving, cursing and swearing.

exass

Meanwhile, a long line of cars was forming behind us. Traffic was brewing.

Just as we began to grumble at the drama, a soldier jumped out from out of nowhere, belt in hand. Very swiftly, he landed two lashes on the GIG driver’s bum and before the danfo driver got the chance to escape, he landed him his share. The danfo driver wanted to dodge but the soldier pulled him back and ordered him to get on his bus. By then, the GIG driver had fled to his bus and was seated like an obedient child. We all burst out laughing.

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The two drivers finally moved their drama away from the middle of the road and we were able to pass through. I had thought the danfo driver would speed past but he was kind enough to park properly and was getting off to sort things out with the GIG driver when our bus moved away.

We soon got to Mile 2 and I got off to find the next bus to Orile.

Now, this is one thing I don’t like about these buses. Doyin is close to Orile, but no one ever wants to go on ahead to Doyin. Even the ones going past Orile to CMS will want everyone going to Orile and Doyin to get off at Orile. So annoying. It’s not a far distance o, but then, even if you don’t have a car or are not driving, can’t somebody just enjoy? Na wa o!

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This time, I was last to get on the bus. I had wanted to go to the back seat but one mama jumped from out of space and flew in before me. Mama de mama! That left me with no option than to take the last seat. The conductor pulled out the seat and I sat. Few minutes later, he started asking for money.

Now, he had to come really close to me to take money from those at the back. That is one of the major reasons why I do not like this seat. Conductors will almost kiss you in the name of collecting money. Some will open their armpits in your face, some will be shouting at passengers and raining spittle on you. And they fit never brush teeth that day o! Ewwwww…

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I stylishly used my bag to nudge the conductor away. He noticed and was kind enough to move a bit. I was grateful. After collecting his money, he stood the usual way with his head outside the bus. Finally, I had my space.

Relief

We continued on to Orile. The driver and conductor could not even wait to shout “Oya o, gbogbo ero bole ooo…”

As the gbogbo ero that we are, na so we bole o.

Where I landed was the valley-of-the-shadow-of-urine.The stench almost choked me. And to think I had to walk through to Doyin was not funny. I tried to hold my breath as I walked past, but being the lazy sod that I am, I soon released it and inhaled all the ammonia over again. I kuku free myself na, afterall if I go piss am back after.

trump

I got to Doyin and crossed over to find my keke people.

I got to the office at 8:45am but that is not the best part. I spent just four hundred naira on transport all the way from home. I saved about five hundred naira.

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Now who says I won’t be rich this week? Five hundred naira times six days is three thousand naira. My pizza money is complete! Gbam!

Ehen…let’s do small amebo. I heard one gist o. Mr. Shehu Garba, Senior Special Assistant to the President on Media and Publicity said rats are dancing “Wo” in Buhari’s office. What effontry!

But why? Is it only Buhari in the whole building? No secretary, receptionist or anything? Even Vice President no use the office? Or who knows, maybe the rats are CCTV rats?

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Okaaaaaaay, I forgot, Buhari went to London with the key.

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What bothers me is that they will soon spend all our money in the name of renovation when rat killers are sold at Iyanaba for just hundred naira, kill and dry, e-chop-e-no- chop-am-e-go-die and even rat gum. Ehen na…mschewwww…!

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Seriously I need to talk him into giving me the “rat-poison contract”, but I have to package the name well, ehen“Rodent Elimination Exercise“. That sounds better and will sell more…yes!

Anyways, now that he will be working from home, I will go to his house so we can chill and discuss…yes, yes yes!!!

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Me and you na! I am coming with pizza and rat poison Sir!

 

My Weexperience

THIS POST IS REALLY LONG!!!

Yes yes…

Now guys, I’m sorry I went AWOL. I fell sick during the weekend and then work was really demanding in the past week, so much so that I could not even make out time to write a line… Very bad! I just had to murder the “anti-writing” demon today. Enough already!

And yes, some people missed me, I missed you right back!

That last week ehn…no be play! Too much work. I was always pretty much fagged out on getting home and then you know what that means, oversleeping and waking up late. In the course of my journeys however, I noticed the roads were somewhat free in the mornings. All the “we-no-know-wetin-cause-am” traffic was absent. E pain me o because I was wasting my money on okada.

Anyways, I’ll just run you through the past week in this post. Some of the events I may recount, others I may not. But for the ones I will share, enjoy the ride with me.

All through Monday to Friday, I woke up late. The week was jinxed in fact. You know what happens when you wake up late. You practically have to rush through everything. I get really grumpy too. I tried really hard to be in my best behaviour though.

On this particular day, I was going home from the office, really tired. The traffic was not funny either. I mentioned one time that one of the alternate routes had been blocked. It remained so for about three days. That meant having to deal with terrible traffic for three days.

So I got on the bus and the driver informed us as we got in that he had no change. The fare was a hundred naira. This man got on and after all the shouting from the driver just said in Yoruba, “Mo ni igbagbo pe mo ma ri change…”

Say what??? Now, faith is a beautiful thing, but please, let’s not do the wrong things under the guise of having faith. He could have easily told the driver what amount he had and let the driver decide if he should get on or not. It was not as if there were no other buses. As much as I was pissed, it was not my business so I kept mute. He sat beside me and immediately began to ask me if I had a hundred naira. I ignored him, but he touched me and asked the same question. I hid my anger and muttered a yes. And he just said “Oya bring it…”

Haba Oga, slow down na. Even though na tax you wan collect sef…Whilst still trying not to get angry, I checked my purse and gave him the hundred naira note. He moved on to the next person and asked for hundred naira as well. After he had collected from about three people, he started singing loudly to the tune playing and then after a while checked the notes and then faced me again. “Madam, ahn ahn, see the money wey you give me…” The money was splitting across the green lines on the note. This time though, I had to answer.

“Oga abbeg abbeg abbeg, No be you I suppose give my money, na driver. If you no want gimme jeje make I pay driver. I sure say driver no go reject am. Ahn ahn, wetin be your own sef?

That was the man’s mute button I pressed. I’m sure he thought about having to contend with an enraged driver and then he pocketed the money silently. Mschewwwwww….

I got off the bus and was immediately mobbed by a child beggar. He was just hell bent on pestering my life that evening. Immediately he saw me, he ran to me and started saying “ Aunty gimme ten naira”. As he raised his hand to touch me I screamed at him, “Com’on no touch me”, he echoed my words “Com’on no touch me”.

I ignored him and continued on. He followed me and was busy asking me “I touch you? Aunty I touch you?” I still ignored him. And then he actually touched me and ran. At this point I was already laughing. I went after him and spanked him. He was busy laughing too. He then touched me again and asked “Yellow aunty, I touch you?” And again, he touched me. I was sick of the boy. I kept moving and he kept following, and then he was in front of me holding my legs, the tiny rat. Onlookers were already having a field day laughing. And he started saying “Abbeg na, abbeg na…” I just looked at the tiny thing and burst out lauging. I ended up giving him fifty naira after all my agidi. 

The other members of the beggars clan are usually poised somewhere watching. Once someone is generous enough to give one of them, the others jump up to collect their share. I was not ready for that drama. I gave the little boy the money and fled while still laughing at the little boy’s antics.

On another day, I was unfortunate and had to sit beside a drunken master. I had gotten on the bus and taken a really comfortable seat where I could relax because I had a slight headache. Few bus-stops later, this man got on. From the door he was shouting “Oko-afo straight”, the bus was going to Iyanaba. Oko-afo is way further from Iyanaba. The conductor told him the bus was going to Iyanaba but the man still got on. He was with his friend and they were both drunk. He however, was the drunker one.

He sat with a loud thud without even looking at the seat. The result was that he almost fell and I was his support. As the hit me to gain balance, the stench of alcohol hit me as well. And then to make matters worse, he opened his mouth, the alcohol-stench reserve, supposedly to apologize, and I almost died.

I pushed him really hard and he hit his friend who was sitting beside him. The other passengers burst out laughing. I was too pissed to care. He then turned back and saw some people he knew sitting at the back. Another round of drama. He tried to turn and then hit me again. I pushed him the second time. He said sorry and then sat properly. He sat still for a few minutes and then started talking very loudly.

“Driver, you are a nonsense man, on the music and let us enjoy, on the AC too joor, rubbish”.

As he said it, he baptized me with spittle. I honestly felt like crying.

I aggressively cleaned my hand on his clothes which were no better, and then I faced him, “Oga, I take God name beg you, abbeg no disturb me again. Wetin be this na?”

He started saying sorry and then I said “Abbeg, e don do.” Before the man will say sorry and drench me in drunken spittle. I was so disgusted and I had to take out my jacket to cover the exposed part of my hand in order to save it from spit-attack.

Once I got home, I dunked the jacket in water.

On a different day, in the morning, there was minor traffic before Alakija and aggression seemed to be oozing everywhere. An okada man bumped into some CCECC workers and then a fight began. The okada man poked one of the CCECC worker’s eyes with his fingers and the guy fell flat on the ground. Another CCECC worker attacked the okada man and dealt him a heavy blow. He went further to push him really hard and he fell with his head. I was so afraid.

Fortunately, the okada man got up and he seemed unscathed. He was unbuckling his belt, supposedly for a bigger fight when we moved on.

Later that day, the aggression continued. This time around though, it was corrective aggression, if there’s any such thing. The roads were severely blocked and the soldiers in a bid to minimize traffic were dishing out blows, slaps, kicks and belt lashes all round.

I boarded a bus from Second Rainbow to Alakaija and the driver, trying to be smart took “one way” as it is usually called. Of course na, me I happy die. Anything to get home really fast. Unfortunately, we got to a point and then we got stuck. Everyone was disobeying traffic rules, no one wanted to give way for the other. Soon, there was noise and argument all over as different drivers tried to find some space to pass through.

I was just sitting and looking when a mobile policeman opened the door on the drivers side and dealt him some hot slaps.

I counted five in all. The driver became humble. I felt so sorry for him. I couldn’t even say sorry because I was afraid the pain would make the driver snap at me.

The policeman went ahead and slapped some more drivers up in front and then finally, there was movement.

Wonders that hot slaps can do!

We continued on silently to Alakija. At Alakija, the traffic demon was present as well as loads of drivers disobeying traffic rules. Soon, a military van pulled up and some soldiers jumped out. See slaps flying all over the place.

One conductor received several lashes of the belt and he ran for dear life while holding his butt. I laughed o, make I no lie.

It reminded me of the “abara” our mums used to give us when we were young. The kind that made you run round and back to the same spot from where you were hit.
After enjoying the drama, I boarded a bus and continued my journey. Now, on a bus, considering the manner in which we are sandwiched in Lagos buses, not everyone can sit and relax on the back-rest. But lai lai, everyone wants to relax. The trick is some have to relax, others have to lean forward.
But some passengers, the moment they look at you and feel you look comfortable leaning forward, they want to lean forward too, and if you are resting backwards, they want to do same. Na so fight dey start. You have to pick a struggle o. No time for rubbish!

One lady sat beside me and was just busy leaning back and forth. I explained to her that we both could not sit same way. I even gave her the option of choosing her position and then I would take the other, she no gree. Instead she started nagging. Me ke? I just put my earphones on. After several attempts of trying to inconvenience me, she finally picked a position. I didn’t care anymore.

On Friday, a guy tried to pick my bag. I had been at the bus-stop for quite some time and when a bus finally came, there was a big rush. Na so we rush, pick pocket rush follow us. I felt something pull my bag and so I tried to move away. The moment I moved, the guy beside me also moved and stood like he was not pretending to board before. I knew he was the one. I looked at my bag and saw he had drawn out twenty naira. My bag has these side pouches that are zipless. I usually just put my keys and receipts there, nothing extra-valauable. But I had these torn twenty amd fifty naira notes I had been meaning to tape back together which I had put there as well.

It was the twenty naira the pick-pocket drew out. I was even angry I caught him, he should have stolen both because they had been in my bag for about a week and I always forgot to fix them.

I stared at him pointedly to let him know I knew what he was up to. He stared back. I stared harder until he gave up and walked away. Bad market that I was… Lol

I soon found another bus and boarded peacefully. I got home glad that the week was finally over.

I also decided that I was going to give buses a try the next week.

Ehen…I learnt Buhari is back.

I’m going there to collect the London jeans that he bought for me… Who is coming???

Pheeeeeew! The end!

My Lagos Experience – XperENs 15

Being a good person in Lagos is really hard.

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It’s nearly a Herculean task in fact, especially when you have to travel by public transport every day. You either have to deal with an annoying driver, troublesome conductor or impossible passengers. Not funny at all!

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I had to stand at the bus-stop for almost thirty minutes before I got a keke going to Doyin. The moment I boarded, I was sorry, I knew the driver to be an annoying man. But then, I was too tired to be choosy.

I had had several encounters with the said driver, both directly and indirectly. Either he refuses to move for the person who would sit with him in front or rains abuses on someone who gives him anything short of fifty naira. I had my fifty naira change so I felt safe at least. I dared to hope that today would be different.

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On getting to the bus-stop, I handed him a note. I had both fifty and twenty naira notes in my purse and at the moment when I handed him the money, he turned on the lights and it seemed like I had handed him a twenty naira note. I asked to see so I could change it if need be. That was my offence. The driver pounced on me!

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“So, since wey u siddown, you no fit check the money abi?, Nonsense! Na so una go dey misbehave…”

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Huh? To say I was shocked is the least. I looked round to make sure he was not talking to me. Unluckily, it was me.

“Oga, wetin I do? Na crime now to check money wey I give u? If I give u twenty naira waka now na you go still call me back.”

“So since wey u dey inside the keke nko? Why you no check am?”

Oga is that my crime?”

“Abbegi, commot there. Na so una go dey claim nonsense. See am, na fifty naira you give me, na fifty naira…”

He said this while shaking the note in my face.

“Okay oga, now that you have decided to show yourself again, I have been looking for a way to tell you this, you need to work on your manners, this kind of behaviour is very bad for a person of your age and for the job you do. If you have problems, we all do, if you simply choose to be bitter, then that’s your business. You don’t even…”

“Keep quiet, na your papa no get manners.”

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Oga, if you can see heaven, you will see my dad is having a good time there. Nothing is counting against him anymore. Whether he has manners or not is not an issue, it is you and I who are left here, and you are doing really badly. Change oga, change you hear?”

My sharp mouth at work…

He was still ranting and raving and talking balderdash when I walked away. I was not happy I had to exchange words with him, but it was high time someone told him the truth. And I was the self appointed “truth-teller” for the day.

As I moved away, I wondered why people would mention your parents when you had an argument with them. I am here, face me, you are mentioning my father. I found the answer myself, inferiority. Only one who is no match for you would resort to insulting your parents because they have nothing else to say that would hurt, and no one likes to have his or her parents insulted.

While I was walking, a woman who had been on the keke with me called me. She said she had been signaling to me to let the matter with the driver go but I did not see her.

“My pikin, no mind the man, na so e dey do. See me wey siddown with am. I almost wan fall when we pass that side wey water dey. E no gree shift. The man na wicked man, I know am well well, no vex.”

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I was glad someone else could relate and I was not just being unreasonable. I thanked her and moved on. I also made a mental note never to take his keke again.

Mschew

The man is like fire, he will burn you as soon as you go near whether mistakenly or intentionally. I do not want to ever be caught up in his flames.

I was too tired to take a bus so I got on a bike instead. I was still musing over the matter feeling pissed until I remembered the sweet okra soup I was going to devour at home. My face lit up with a smile.

Fooddd

My Evening Experience

The traffic in the evenings these days is something else. Usually, traffic is not so bad at some points because there are a lot of alternate routes, but about three days ago, CCECC blocked the other routes, probably so that they can work without disturbance. The result is that all the buses going through Mile 2 and Festac have to go through one route. Disastrous!

exas

I boarded a coaster bus going straight to Iyanaba. When I got inside the bus, there were already four people seated at the back and I was supposed to be fifth, but they were all started saying “Ah, you no go fit enter here o, na small person go siddown here…” As I don turn King Kong na,  I quietly wanted to get off the bus, but the conductor asked me to wait for some other person to go in. I did. The back benchers were unlucky; a bigger woman with a child went in. They tried to tell the woman to sit elsewhere but she was not interested. She just sat on the legs of the two people who she was supposed to sit in-between. They sensed she was trouble and were then forced to make space. I laughed silently.

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We hit traffic just a few minutes away from the bus-stop. It was not funny at all. Luckily, we met some guys up in front directing the driver to pass through a street, the driver gave them some money and they let us through. There was still traffic when we connected the major road but we had covered a reasonable distance. Next thing I knew, one large woman boarded the bus and headed for the seat beside me. Chai!!!! Why???

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She just fell on the seat, gbam! Ahn ahn, na wa o! We had been just four on the seat, she was the fifth person. The moment she sat, the rest of us all got squashed up and she was still busy saying “Make una shift na…” But why? Why are these fat people like this? I am not judging anyone for being fat, some people may even call me fat, but please you cannot be telling us to make space when you have taken all the space already. Just sit down and be humble…

Soon after, to everyone’s shock, the fat woman started dozing. She was even nodding and snoring. The man on her side was just busy moving in his seat so he would touch her. When he did she would stop snoring, only to resume a few minutes later. I was just sitting in the middle feeling sorry for my left hip. I was so sure it would have shrunk by the time I got off the bus. Thankfully, the lady on my other side got to her bus-stop and alighted. I quickly moved on to her seat. She had been sitting by the window.

Relief

The conductor had been collecting money from us row after row and suddenly I started to hear “Fake ni, na fake…” Someone had paid the conductor with a purportedly fake note. Trust Lagosioans, “Make I see…”,

“Na fake o…”

“On light make we check am…”

“The colour no be normal colour…”

“Squeeze am first…”

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Everyone suddenly became EFCC…

As for me, I cannot “whizzle blow” like Jenifa would say because of one thousand naira. Five percent is just fifty naira. I no want!

After much fuss, the person had to pay with a different note. By this time we had passed all the major traffic points before Volks. The driver then pulled up at a fuel station and wasted so much time filling his tank. Passengers were just raining abuses on him. We left the fuel station and continued on. Just before Volks, there was the greatest traffic of all time. Vehicles were all squashed up beside each other, the smell of exhaust fumes and burning clutches filled the air as each driver tried to outsmart the other.

Soon, drivers were fighting, insulting one another and even cursing. One driver even called out to another saying “Oloriburuku ku ro l’ona…” That was how some others turned it to a joke started calling him “Oloriburuku”.

“Oloriburuku lo si waju..” “Oloriburuku this and that…”

Luckily, he took it with humour. Normally, I would get off and walk but I could not because those who had gotten off were now trapped between buses with so little space that if the buses moved, they were in danger of getting scratched. I sat down and was silently constructing my story in my head.

After so much struggle, we got past the traffic and I was able to get off. I had to walk to the point where I would get another bus. I had to deal with moving vehicles as well as static humans. This is the picture…You are walking fast and all of a sudden, the person in front of you slows down abruptly and finally stops. You try to find out what happened and you notice his eyes are glued to a TV screen. He has stopped to watch TV, just like that! Lagosians will watch Game of Thrones, seasons one to infinity on the road. They watch comedies, music videos, wrestling and all sorts on the road.

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In the mornings, it is newspaper. You find a lot of men gathered at the newspaper spots reading the papers without touching anyone or bringing out money to buy. In the end an argument ensues, some even lead to fights and finally they disperse. One newspaper, they no buy…

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The vendors and movie sellers, I don’t know how they even sell anything.

I finally boarded a bus and there was a guy sitting at the back like he was in his parlour. I asked him to move and he just moved his legs without actually moving. I sat quietly. When the next person came in, I was sure to move and squash him to the sides of the bus. Wicked right? Sometimes it’s needed.

Striaght face

He looked at me and I looked forward instead. He had ear-phones on and was nodding and feeling really gangster. I felt sorry for him…lol!

Few minutes later, I noticed he was looking at his phone intently. I decided to play sneak a peek. Now, I know snooping is a bad habit, but I’m sorry I could not resist.

trump

What I even saw, I do not understand. He was reading a text from one Chioma. I read the first line and I couldn’t comprehend. I had to bring out my phone to secretly type so I could read just in case he finished reading before me.

This is what I typed…

“Keeping the best in u is a keeping of all ur fillings.. Bringing out the best is a conscientious feeling that cannot be overlook…”

comff

I was afraid of getting caught so I looked away for some time and tried to understand what I had typed. It still didn’t make sense. Luckily, the guy was still reading so I looked again. I had typed correctly. The guy was still looking at the phone with so much seriousness.

Either he was as confused as I was or was carried away by the supposed love message from Chioma.

When I got off, oga was still reading the message o!

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My “Pixperience”

I dozed off last night with my phone in my hands. This blogging na work o. I started this whole thing because I was getting really stressed from all the road trouble and needed something to help me deal with the matter. I figured writing my experiences down would help me feel better, until my friends read through my journal and thought I needed to blog them instead.

And so here I am! And yes, I feel better about everything…

The traffic yesterday was something else. My bum got sore from sitting. Thankfully, I met an old school mate at the bus-stop. We boarded the same bus and suffered the rest of traffic together silently, after we had played catch up exhausted all the stories we could think of. I was completely frazzled by the time I reached home.

Today, I was finally able to jump up to my alarm, but I opened my eyes and I realized I had been dreaming. With so much joy in my heart, I went back to bed to wait for the real alarm…

And wake me it did after what seemed like only ten minutes. I got ready hurriedly and left home. Bus-stop—–Iyanaba—–

When I got off the bus, one child beggar decided to pester my life today. He kept following me and saying “Aunty gimme ten naira, aunty gimme ten naira…” Meanwhile, his mother was positioned in one corner, waiting for the little boy to come back with the morning’s earnings. Her other kids were around her, showing her what they had come back with.

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Unfortunately, I did not have ten naira and then I was not even ready to give a lazy woman’s son my money. I nicely told the boy to go back to his mother. The boy no gree o. He kept following me until I crossed over to take okada.

These days, getting a bike has been really easy. Thanks to less frequent rain, maybe it’s August break as they usually say. Well, thank God.

There was a slight drizzle and I battled between putting on my raincoat or not. In the end, I felt it would be awkward to put it on and so I wore just my shower cap to protect my hair. Off we went.

We were on the wrong lane as usual and so we had to move slowly through a narrow path from where we would connect the other side of the road. There was a mad man just in front of our okada. The okada man signaled to him to move away, and instead the mad man shouted back, refusing to move. I was already getting scared but the okada man would not hear any of it, he moved forward like he wanted to hit the man and he immediately jumped off the road. Maybe the mad man was not mad after all…

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With a sense of relief, we moved on. Just as we passed a large pothole, I heard a loud noise behind us. Another okada man had probably not seen the pothole early enough and had fallen into it. His okada fell on him. Thankfully, the man seemed okay and was trying to get himself up.

The rest of the journey went on quietly. No rush, no fuss.

Since I cannot take pictures with my phone for fear of having it stolen, I got a camera and I am hoping they don’t suddenly start to steal cameras too, but for now, I am only afraid of getting slapped…lol. I will try not to snap the bums of those pooping…

I managed to take some pictures though, just for your viewing pleasure. They may  not be so good because I’m a beginner, but by all means, enjoy!

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Beggars on the road side
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Truck pushers
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CCECC at work
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Tyre-net House on left
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CCECC at work
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Refuse dumped on the main road
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Okada men carrying their bikes over the roads
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Refuse dumped on the roadside
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Road under construction

My Lagos Experience – Tuesday (August 08, 2017)

Maybe snoozing my alarm is a hobby, remind me to add that to my CV.

Or maybe I am too fat…That’s why it takes me some time to lift myself off the bed when my alarm rings.

Anyways, I got up finally and got ready for work. I left the house and the usual journey began. Getting to Iyanaba was smooth today. I got there and started to look for an okada. There were okada men everywhere, but there seemed to be too many people too. I was wondering why until I started asking the okada men if anyone was going to Mile 2. The people standing were looking for people to pair up with. Me I no do o!

Usually, two people who do not know each other from Adam can pair up and each person pays half price. I am not usually comfortable with this for several reasons. One is that, most times I wear a skirt and sitting with another person means having to spread my legs more than necessary, especially if I get to sit behind. Not ladylike. Another reason is that I may not find a co-female to pair up with, meaning I have to pair up with a man and that is total disaster. Some men…tufiakwa! I have witnessed several occasions where the pairing up caused something my mouth cannot tell…

One day when I was broke and in my alaroro mood, a long time back, I sat with a man. I was in a hurry so I wasn’t choosy. The man was not too fat but really big bellied. I hear am! It was bad enough that the stomach was already pushing me forward, the man kept trying to make conversation on the okada. Moving okada, with the sound of the wind, and you keep leaning forward to talk to me. It was not funny at all. Throughout the journey I was like the hotdog in a sausage roll squashed up between the two men. By the time I got to my destination, I was as flat as chin-chin dough.

Going back to the day’s story jare, I finally found an okada and I got on. I saw one of my agbero fans and I waved. He hollered “mama” and waved back…
I was shocked the okada man had a side mirror. I wonder if he is from this planet. Majority of the okada men have taken their side mirrors off. I have tried to find out why and only one mentioned to me that he removed his so as to be able to navigate properly in traffic. 

So this one had one side mirror, well, half bread is better than none!
We continued the journey silently, we took an entirely different route today. This okada men, they are very good at finding new routes. Once CCECC just moves a road block small…e don finish! I was glad though, new route, fewer commuters, less traffic, faster journey.

I saw a girl wearing a really nice crop top. I guess that was why she was not bothered about her stomach, because the top was really fine. But how can you wear a crop top when you have so much going on there? At least crop the stomach before you wear the top. No be by force na! 

What angered me was the fact that the girl did not look before attempting to cross and was still blaming the okada man who almost hit her. Thankfully, there was slight traffic at that point so the danger was avoided.

Trust Lagos people though, they faced the girl and gave it to her really hot.
We continued the journey smoothly. We didn’t get to pass through the kingdom or islands so I didn’t see anyone doing the business.

The okada man was going to Doyin and I continued with him all the way. As soon as I got there, the smell of puff-puff attracted me. I traced the puff-puff and bought plenty. I had to restrain myself from pinching it in the keke.

Once I got into the building, I threw one into my mouth while climbing the stairs. So much for being a lady!

Work began a few minutes after.

Evening:

I left the office late today. My alaroro friend called me but I was not ready so she left me.

I finished up and left the office. I stood at the bus-stop with so many other people trying to get keke, I no gree see. When one finally came, If you see my Vin Diesel moves…I dunno how, but I saw myself inside.  

I got to Doyin and continued on to Alakija.

From Alakija, I boarded the next bus going to Volks. I was first to get in and a man got in after and sat beside me. The man was just staring pointedly at me. I tried not to look at him but I could feel his eyes on me. I looked back and opened my eyes wide as if to say “Oga wetin?”

He then looked away, only to resume a few minutes later. I had to stylishly bring out my mirror and look at my face to see if there was charcoal on it…I no see anything! I didn’t want to shout so I tried my best to ignore him.

The bus driver had no conductor so we had to gather our money and pass it forward. I had N500 and the fare was N100. I passed it and asked for change. The driver did not have. Na so Oga look-look carry the matter for head o. 

“Driver, driver, you owe somebody N400 change here o, please pass it..”

Me as I don get PA for money affairs, infact my own Diezani, I just keep quiet. Swallow all the panadol for my headache.

That was how the man kept asking for the change until we got to Volks. I was waiting for him to ask for my number. When the man was about to alight, he faced me and I wore my ugly mask sharp sharp…As soon as the man saw the face, he just said “Don’t forget to collect your change o aunty…” I muttered an okay and took my change from the driver.

I alighted and continued my journey. Getting the last bus was not easy. I stood at the bus-stop for a really long time. People were just staring. I mean, I know I am a fine woman, but please stare with style. Some will get the back view and they will want to see the fine face with the fine you know…

It’s not my fault, my mama born me well…

I finally found a bus and boarded. No conductor again. When the driver asked for his money this time, I asked a man in front to help me pass it on. The man just ignored me. I tapped him just to be sure he didn’t hear. He still ignored me. 
All these people, tell them to pass money to the driver, no, but they will become conductors in a bid to gather their change. I held my money jeje.

He didn’t know karma was about to strike. He was to collect N100 change from the driver and I wanted him to pass the N100 which he would have just collected. The driver did not have change. 

Finally, I got the chance to give the driver the money myself. When the same man saw it was N100, he then stretched his hand to take it. You cannot pass the money but you can take it as change. Me ke? Wait for me! 

I just said “Oga abbeg, I no dey give passenger my money o, only driver because na so people dey take disappear…”

Everyone except the man burst out laughing.

I dunno where in heaven’s name I got that from, but the payback was sweet!

 Chai!  I bellefull…! 

My Lagos Experience – Monday (August 07, 2017)

Sorry this post is late. And…IMG_20170806_223705So it’s a new week again. I don’t understand how. I closed on Friday, slept for two hours and then it was Monday! I thought the weekend was supposed to be forty-eight hours? Well….

I got up lazily and started getting ready for work after ignoring the alarm severally. I think I like my alarm tone so much that I would rather stay in bed enjoying the music than wake up to start my day. My phone and I will have a discussion, we need to change the song.

Tongue

I dressed up and finally left the house bearing in mind that there had been no serious rain over the weekend. The roads would be dusty. I left with my complete gear. I had a white skirt on so I had to don a long cardigan to keep myself clean.

I boarded a bus and then we got stuck in traffic at some point before Iyanaba. That meant I had to walk some. I got off and the trekking began.

Everyone seemed busy and in a hurry. As we were hurrying to work, beggars too were hurrying to the streets. Imagine! Everybody dey go ‘im office.

These beggars though! I understand when someone who is totally handicapped begs, but the part I am yet to process is where a complete human, with eyes, arms and legs intact will resort to begging.

Begging in itself is hard work. I remember one evening I lost my purse and was stranded. I had to beg for money to take me home. In fact I had almost gotten home and all I needed was a two-hundred naira. It took me almost thirty minutes to make the decision, only to meet the first lady and she dealt me a heavy NO, I was shocked to the marrow, but then, in Lagos everyone is usually careful. It took me another round of about fifteen minutes to build my courage again. The lady who finally helped me was selling fruits. I promised I would return the money the next day and she said an okay with doubt clearly expressed on her face. I disappointed her and gave her the money and more the next day. Till date we are still friends, plenty free banana, carrots, cucumber, oranges and all sorts  falling on me since.

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Each morning I see women just sitting idle on the streets and urging their children on to beg and it annoys me, one child beggar was even telling me “Tuwale mama” severally just to make me give him money. Imagine! He must have picked that up from the agberos of course.

I know the country is hard, I know life could be difficult, but begging? That should be left for really difficult cases, pardon me if I am wrong. Okay, you know you don’t have a source of income, you don’t know how you would get your next meal, you have no place to sleep, but you are still able to have many children? I don’t think I could even get down to it if I were worried about something. I think these people may be trying really hard to raise a generation of beggars.

Afraid

Some women dress their kids up, even paint their faces with enough kajal and just lie down on the road, chilling, lounging and begging. Na wa o!

Horrified2

Anyway, I got to Iyanaba and found an okada at once. Usual price. Thank God for the good weather. The journey was smooth, minimal traffic for a Monday. No carrying of okada today, even the poopers were on holiday. I saw only one man pooping, how relieving! No willies flying in my face either.

Relief

I got safely to Mile 2 and crossed over to continue to Doyin. Several of the okada men were beckoning to me. I just picked the first person who called me, only for one man to say “Na wa o, you know dey know customer, you go just come enter any okada wey you like…” Funny thing is the so called man claiming “customer”, I no even sabi am. I just replied that I didn’t have any customers, that everyone was my customer. So if I get there and I don’t see my customer, I’ll keep wasting time and waiting for customer

Mschew

One of them then made a foolish comment saying “But you no fit service everybody…” I was so tempted to reply but I held back. It was a Monday morning, no need to start the week listening to uncouth men.

Woju

I continued my journey and got to work in good time. After clocking in, small room straight. Few minutes later I came out with my real face.

I got into the office and Oga was around. I greeted him and he ignored me. Okay na, but no be me say make they win you for una tournament na. They had played cricket games over the weekend and his team lost…Wetin concern me? I don’t even understand the game.

Pouttt

 

I quietly went to my seat, turned on my system and started working and silently glancing at the clock. I had beans and plantain to deal with at 12:00pm.

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Evening:

I mentioned to my colleagues that I would leave the office early, that was a mistake. In fact, it’s a norm that each time I mention leaving the office early, I end up leaving late.

Anyways, the “late” today was not really bad as my friend came over to pick me up. She made sure to make me finish up on time.

So the journey home began…

My friend wanted to get four loaves of bread from Shoprite. She first went to the mall at Surulere. Bread was available o, hot, freshly baked bread. She checked the price and bolted. It was so funny.

6

She said the bread was selling for N370 at Surulere, but she had been buying at N250 from Festac. She said she was not ready to spend an extra N480.

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The journey continued to Festac. We got to the mall  and picked a basket for bread shopping. There was a queue of intending bread buyers. So we joined the queue. After a few minutes, I asked her to check with those in charge to know if the bread was available so that we do not just wait in vain. She got there and received a negative answer. We wanted wheat bread, there was no wheat bread. E remain small make my friend roll for ground! 

9

She began to lament, saying what a terrible mistake she had made, and that she would have just bought the bread for whatever price at Surulere. I was busy laughing my head off.

We got to the parking lot and had to pay a parking fee of N200. She had earlier paid N100 at Surulere. So we spent a total of N300 trying to dodge paying N480. The fuel we burnt going from Surulere to Festac nko?

In fact, it was a case of naira wise, naira foolish…I know it’s a good thing to be shrewd in spending, but you also have to do a proper calculation.

Anyways, that was how we spent the evening meandering without buying the bread she wanted so badly. Alaroro friend that I have…

I thought of advising her to buy Agege bread which would even be cheaper but she may have smashed my head…

She took me to the bus-stop and we went our separate ways. Chai! I had so much fun laughing at her…

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Ehen…I told her I was going to show her picture to the world. Madam Alaroro that she is. You want to know her abi? Okay I’ll show you…

Give me the pleasure of scrolling down some…

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