10 Days to 30 Years (Day 6... Lagos! Hunting for a Pick-Me-Up in a Punch)

Previous Days:

Day 1
Day 2
Day 3
Day 4
Day 5

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I wake up realising almost immediately that it’s the day of the interview, and that my day is about to begin on a bad note.

Firstly, I realise that power was not restored during the night, as have become a pattern, and so my phone battery is flat.

Pixabay

I am about to have my bath when I remember that I had not copied out, from my phone, the address and direction for the interview. I slowly feel apprehension creeping up my spine.

I remind myself that I have a somewhat photographic memory and so I could remember some parts of the address, which means I could get to a place, and from there find my way.

I rush my bath and get dressed, then I battle with myself about the need to print out my CV from the cloud. I remind myself that my phone is flat, and convince myself that I am late, and besides, I had sent my CV to the employers initially, so there was no extreme need for the CV.

I begin my journey to the island, telling myself that all in all, I will be fine.

I hope against hope that the cash I have will be enough for the journey, as I am afraid of getting stranded on the island; the thought of begging some snob for my fare home sending fear and shame down my spine.

“What about the one thousand you left in the account last time,” a voice asks.

“Idiot, how do you think she still has data?” another responds.

Hearing the voice refer to me in the second person makes me pause.

Am I okay?

Do I need help before this gets worse?

These thoughts race through my mind as I squeeze myself in a coaster bus. I could take the more popular Danfo bus, but I need to save as much as is possible. With the coaster bus, I’ll spend only 50 naira, whereas, with the Danfo, it will cost me 50 extra nairas.

I wonder what I will be asked at the interview, as the bus moves towards Yaba, to take my mind off the discomfort I feel from sitting with four other people on the seat meant for just four people at most.

I hope I’m prepared enough, even as I know I am not. I promise to go through my study notes when I am seated in the next bus, as that should be more comfortable.

Getting to Yaba, I walk briskly to where I am to get a bus going to Obalende, and I am weakened by the amount I hear the conductors call out as the fare. It was 150 naira instead of 100.

Source

I stand for a while, hoping for one with the ‘right price’ to come along, as the conductors spare me no second glances when I bargain with them.

I stand there long enough for one of the voices to remind me that I was already late, and that going to Ajah was equivalent to travelling out of Lagos.

Sad at my lack and afraid of being stranded, I board the bus. I get in and try to go through my notes, but I am too distracted by the fear I feel, then I stare at the water.

I am fascinated by water bodies, I don’t know why, maybe it’s because I am of the zodiac sign, Pisces. I don’t follow the zodiac predictions, but it’s almost impossible not to know where your birth date falls among the signs. Pisces is the fish family, and maybe that's why I am fascinated with the water. I love drinking water, I love dancing in the rain, but I can’t swim and I fear to get close to the large bodies of water which I am so fascinated with.

So I stare at the water, as the bus moves towards its destination, and I feel trouble brewing when the driver takes an alternate route which would take us somewhere else other than the main bus stop.

The trouble I envision, I expect to come from a huge man seated in front of me. He was picked along the way and has said nothing that proves he is troublesome, but he has this aura and confidence which comes from knowing, or thinking, that you are ready and equipped to handle any trouble someone, anyone, decides to give you.

As the driver speeds down the wrong path and other passengers complain of the driver’s decision which means they will have to walk some distance to get to the bus stop, the man says nothing, just shakes his head and gives a slight smile which I interpret to say ‘you guys have no idea who you are joking with’.

I say nothing because I have other things to worry about other than the fact that I have to walk some distance to the bus stop. Other things like the fact that I am broke. Besides, I could just abuse them in my mind, and they would be none the wiser.

There are many ways to kill a rat without seeing blood, but I doubt this huge man cares about that. He looks ready to see the blood.

I feel my other personas (the voices) leap with excitement at the thought of a fight, as we stay cooped up in my hole too much, we rarely get any excitement from the outside world, and here we are, in far away Obalende, about to watch a fight between a huge man and two slender men (the driver and his conductor).

I have no doubt that the man will beat them both.

The driver stops some distance away from the bus stop and the conductor asks us all to get off the bus. Some passengers get off insulting the driver and his duo, while some others insult them while still seated, hoping they’d do something about their mess up, or maybe they too waited to see the bloodshed about to happen.

“My friend, take me to the bus stop,” the huge man hollered. “I paid you your complete fare, and I asked you if you were going to the last bus stop, and you said yes. Take me to the bus stop.”

“Oga you no see hold up? No road,” the conductor explains.

“I said take me to the bus stop. I am not getting out of this bus.”

Some more passengers get off, either deciding that watching was not worth wasting their time over, or they simply didn’t want to be bloodstained by the bloodshed they see happening soon.

I sit still, watching the exchange, suddenly feeling too tired to walk the distance.
The conductor asks the driver to drive, reversely, to the bus stop, obviously seeing that the huge man was not ready to give in.

As the driver complies and drives closer to the bus stop, I and the other passengers feel like we won the battle by sticking with Huge Man, but our excitement is short-lived as the driver stops gain, saying he has tried, obviously expecting Huge Man to meet him halfway.

“I said I am not getting off until you get to the bus stop,” Huge Man says.

“Police go catch us,” the conductor explains.

“Go, they won’t stop you as long as I am in this bus,” Huge Man replies, to the conductor’s dismay.

The driver drives closer and stops again. Huge Man moves to warn him again when other passengers plead with him to accept the attempt made to redeem the mess up.

“Don’t ever try that again,” the man warned as he got down. “Now give me my change.”
With the show over, I remember that I am already late for the interview, and I conveniently regain my energy and get off the bus.

As I get into the next bus to Ajah, I wince again at the bus fare, 250 naira.

My gloom returns, and I wish there had been bloodshed; maybe just a punch with a flying tooth would have made me a little happy.

Pixabay

I ignore the voice which comments on how I seem to have suddenly developed an appetite for violence.

I don’t care; I need a pick me up.

I sit on the bus and wait for it to fill up.

Written by me, previously published here