Sunday June 4, 2017.
Yesterday was supposed to be one of those days I’d be sitting in a lecture theatre cracking my brains on phonetics and the whole syllable coda Linguistics offered me but all thanks to the combination of the Student’s Union and the Vice Chancellor of University of Ibadan, am home.
In November, we shot Oluwaseunara when she graduated from the University of Ibadan. She had told me back then that her Dad’s birthday was June 3 and she would be needing my presence. When Dr. Bankale said “Your test will hold on the 3rd of June” I told myself, it’s either your 10 marks or my bucks and I’ll vote over my bucks wherever, whenever and however. This probably let’s you know how happy I felt when we were sent home by the VC.
Don’t Be Naturally Wicked
So yesterday morning I took a bus from my home in Abule Egba, downtown Lagos to Oshodi at about 6:15am. The bus was no way different from other rickety vans. We struggled to sit and when we finally did, I became a footballer who only know how to nod the roof of the bus all thanks to the potholes. The driver wasn’t encouraging too, he had an husky voice and got more infuriated when I passed a 500N note to him for a bus fee of 100N. When we finally got to Oshodi, the driver became a wedding pastor by joining two single passengers together. He said,
“You, 400N right? You, 300N right? You, 400N right, Oya take”
stretching out from his dark and coarse hand was 1100N. We had to go through the splitting of the money and in no time I was in the second bus, Oshodi to Obalende.
The Driver of this bus had no bus conductor too. He was calmer, seemed a little bit educated from his Spoken English and treated the passengers with alot of respect. He had lost a front seat passenger who got off before the journey began because he had to attend to an emergency. So we went on, 14 passengers minus one. As he drove further, all his efforts to get a new passenger proved abortive and he had to settle for less as we got on the Third Mainland Bridge. At the point where the bridge separates from Ebutte Meta, he said, “Please send your bus fares forward”. People began sending their money forward, I had paid earlier before getting into the cab as I needed to collect the balance to settle off the third man who needed his balance from the first bus. The bus fare was 150N.
Why are people just naturally wicked?
So there was this woman beside me, she was an Albino, wore a native dress that seemed more expensive than anything. She had asked me if I had 150 to give him because she had 200N with her. She wanted to get her balance immediately I supposed. I retorted “No”. From there I took keen interest in her and she held the money to her left hand until it disappeared into her bag. At the descend of the bridge, the driver parked and insisted someone hadn’t paid his money. I told him not to move until the money was paid but seriously, no one did and as people began venting their anger on him, he conceded and began to drive, grumbling.
As we reached Obalende and alighted, I stood up from this back and told him “Na that albino woman never pay you”. He was shocked and thought I was kidding. Suddenly the woman said, “Oga 50N change” at that moment, I was like “WTF?” How would someone be so heartless? You’ve not paid the bus fare and you trying to cheat him? Why would you be so wicked? I felt so aggrieved and I had to speak out. I voiced audibly of her being the culprit, she denied immediately but both of us knew she was the culprit. I told him to hold her till he gets his balance. It was then that I left the two of them to struggle it out.
I’m like, in this Buhariconomy, you cheat an individual and you still want to make bucks over him? Let’s have some chill please, its not easy surviving in Lagos. How would you feel if you were the cheated party?
Well, Mr Kunle Samuel had a grand 50th Birthday Party and the pictures will roll your way soon.
Your comments are my meal, so feed me.
Use the above share icons too, don’t be stingy.