It has been a while since I dropped a line on this here place. In this period, I have been battling my own darkness in this period and somehow I have survived.
Two weeks ago, a friend invited me over to Lagos to get an experience the Lagos Book and Arts Festival. Before now, I had never been to any literary event in my long life on earth. I have been on the ledge, peering through the window into the world of literature and creativity. For me, this was an opportunity to become a part of that world that has seduced me from afar for so long. Lagos was far.
I arrived Lagos at about 5 pm and what welcomed me was an incident that basically painted a picture of Lagos that many Lagosians would disagree with. My bus was close to Berger, when a wagon driver showing his driving skills maneuvered himself into the front of my bus. My bus driver, an elderly man, did not appreciate this as there was a lengthy queue of cars waiting to get in. The two men started to exchange words. The wagon driver, a younger man, in order to show strength came down from his car and in anger smacked the windscreen of my bus and my darlings, the windscreen cracked.
Have you ever seen a storm melt before the sun? Have you ever seen a balloon lose air like a fart? Well that is how the man's anger fled his face when he realised what he had done. My bus driver came down from his seat and said, "you done buy market." You should have seen the wagon driver's face. He looked lost and confused. All he had wanted to do was show that he was stronger and bigger.
The wagon passengers and came to plead on his behalf but my bus driver was insistent that the damage must be repaired as he would not allow the repairs come out of his salary. After several hours of begging, accusations, denials, if I had knowns, etcetera, etcetera, my bus driver was given some money and then we continued our journey into Lagos.
My dears that was my welcome to Lagos. I just kept laughing at the weirdness of life. You see there are some of us who think we have monopoly on anger. We say things like, 'my anger is bad o, if I dey vex dem no dey fit hold me o, I no dey alright o, even my parents no dey talk to me when I dey vex...' We say it with such relish as if we are describing a spiritual encounter with something beyond the human ken. Who anger EPP?
That wagon driver could have gone his way without issue but now he has to face regret because he was angry. I am sure that on that evening, even if the soup he saw on his plate was sour or tasteless he would not utter a word. That is a flaccid man without the wind in his stomach to rattle cages and raise dust.
To be continued....