AIR-CLINIC WRITING CONTEST: Air Pollution, The Rise Of Fumes!

So it was a sunday evening, the church had organized a youth conference and I must say was power packed. So they had a BRT(Bus Rapid Transit)bus pick us up, which we filled above capacity.

The people standing were in greater numbers than those seated, raising up their hands letting out the odour from their sweat drenched armpits. It was a combination of odours, good, bad and ugly taking up the airspace.

It was hot and sweaty afternoon and the Lagos sun was in no way helpful.

Various pollutions had a field day, ranging from Air pollution to Noise pollution .
Source

The unease started, the fact that I was asthmatic was an indicator that I shouldn't have gotten on that bus in the first place. I started gasping, sweating profusely, I couldn't see clearly, the short breath got to my brain and I couldn't find my inhaler.

I never go out without my inhaler, what is wrong with me, is this the end of me? God, would I survive this... I was so lost in my attack I didn't realize that the bus had stop and I had been taken down to get a hold of fresh air. But in the Goodwill of the people they still clustered above me to check me out, they colonized the airspace they thought they had given me.

"Handkerchief, honey who has any of those two?" A beautiful young lady asked the people gathered. But you know the Crowd rule, "Never ask the crowd for help, just delegate". So she told a guy to help her get it. All this were going on while the mucus had blocked everything called air in my lungs and respiration.

"I sell honey" An old lady answered and that was it.
I don't know how she used it but all I knew was that I could breathe again and I didn't use my inhaler, I used honey and handkerchief.

Doesn't mean I don't take my inhaler with me anymore but now I have added a white handkerchief and a bottle of honey to the list.

I have the beautiful lady and the woman who sells honey at Allen Avenue to thank for my survival.