EKO BUS
It is Sunday evening and am thinking of work already! Why is the weekend so short? I hate road traffic on any day, traffic gives me that nauseous feeling: the exhaust fumes from the buses and the dust! On one of those typical work days, I boarded a bus at Obalende (not the bus in motion and the conductor SHOUTING for passengers) and on getting to my bus stop, I indicated the usual “owa o!” to alight. Alas, the conductor and the driver were shouting at me, “madam, oya, oya come down, you don reach your bus stop! (as thou I haven’t said that before, rolling my eyes). At that point, I noticed my neatly combed and straightened hair is now singing praises and not to forget the sweating episode b’cos of the sardine-in-a-tin like arrangement.
I tried imagining what it would
be like boarding a bus and the conductor smiles at you and says “Good morning
Madam, hope you enjoy your ride”. Huh! Are you kidding me?, in eko, that will
be the day. I will so look forward to seeing that conductor every day! Instead
it will be “abeg hold your change o! I no go reach last bus stop o” as if it is
a crime dropping you at the last bus-stop.
To add to the whole craze, parts
of the bus has fallen apart, even the bus itself is looking glued together! No
seatbelt (for where!) and windows, the foams that are meant to be part of the chairs
have gone AWOL, the seats have lost balance (it was that baaeed). It was so terrible
that even when a passenger (that’s holding the somewhat balance) gets up, the
rest of us can fall. As I said, we were all packed like sardines. Trust me that
was my last option. I was feeling sticky and irritated. The person beside me
was asleep and snoring, as if it was a do or die affair! I looked at the
driver’s seat and no seatbelt (a loose rope was mimicking it), as if that will
protect him from anything, mchewww!
“Which kind bus I enter today?”
Black
Sunday
So, we all have that one bad experience that takes the cake
out of all the others. There’s one that occasionally pops up in my head every
now and then and stays stuck in my memory like a recurring bad dream.
I will never forget that day, my friends and I went for an
ushering job. It was a Sunday night at about 8p.m. The event was stressful, and
we were exhausted. The name of the hall was Harbour point, located at the end
of Wilmot Street near the bar beach in Victoria Island. The street was dark, no
lights and everywhere was quiet except for the music that was playing in the
hall.
Finally, our supervisor released us, we changed
and left. As we stepped outside, lo and behold, we saw some hoodlums in front
of the gate. It was as if they waited for us to come out - a
shiver ran down my spine! As we walked faster, we could feel the impending
danger. They were right behind us! We ran as fast as we could to get to the bus
stop. On getting there, my friends were nowhere to be found. I crossed to the
other side of the road immediately, and when I saw that everything was normal
and no one followed me. I boarded a bus to my destination. What a stroke of
luck!
As I reached for my purse in my bag to pay for my fare, it
was as if I was looking for a pin, I only had N200 left in it. Fortunately, one
of my friends boarded the same bus with me and she paid for my fare while I
searched hopelessly for the money in my purse. “I am sure you will find it” she
said.
When I couldn't find it, it suddenly dawned on me that I
had put it in my pocket and lost it when the hoodlums tried to attack us! My
hard earned money was gone! Yepa! I was on the brink of tears. When I got home
that night, I fell to my knees, clutching my head in despair. I was devastated.
It’s a day I've not been able to live down. Yes…yes I've made in even more money in recent past, but when I consider the fact that the
rewards of an entire day of hard work was gone in a flash, it bites.
