Hey people. Hope we all had a good weekend. So, today, nominations for the Nigerian Blog Awards 2011 begin. If you like us enough to think we deserve a nomination, please do so here: NOMINATE. The bog name is TheToolsman and here’s the web address: https://thetoolsman.wordpress.com. Thanks.
This week seems to be all about story telling starting with this wonderful piece, which captures our Monday category (Monday rush). It’s written by a friend: Folorunsho Williams. Enjoy.
Iyana Oworo !
The conductor screams. “Enter with your 100 Naira I no get change o!”
I struggle to concentrate on my presentation scheduled for 8am. Stay calm young man, if they didn’t like it you wouldn’t have been called.
Behind me, two ladies discuss in hushed tones.
“Imagine the fool, telling me to follow him home after just two bottles of smearnov ize and nkwobi….mscheeeew.”
“He tink sey you be mumu. So where you dey come from now?”
“From Sunny house o.”
“Ahn ahn… I tink sey you no follow am?”
“I no wan go but as we dey comot na so I see sey na baby boy Honda Sunny dey drive now o. So I just tell am sey make e drop me for road. I come do like say slip catch me, na so I go im house o. We no do anything sha. You trust me nah.”
“Hmm.. Tina Tina. Sunny dey ride baby boy Honda.. for where, who dash am. Na keke napep Sunny still dey ride”
“Na lie, e don buy moto. I take my own eye see am”
“I say na keke napep Sunny still dey ride, no be him drop me for bus stop now now.”
I soak dis in and silently pray the bus moves faster so I can get off quickly.
“Money for front”, I search my pocket for my wallet as the driver speeds along Ikorodu Road to the sounds of KWAM 1 screaming “Chicago… Nibi ton ti fegusi se lobster o…” (Chicago, where they cook egusi with lobster…) on the radio…
I search my suit pocket and have a sinking feeling immediately because I remember placing the wallet on the kitchen cabinet after giving my younger sister some money earlier in the morning. I can’t remember putting it back in my pockets.
“Mr. Oga give me money nah! Owo e da!”
I can’t come up with a response.
That same moment, two men jump onto the bus. One screams:
“Owo security da” (Where’s your security fee?)
The other shouts even louder, “owo nashona da?” (Where’s your National fee?)
One of the two men bears a resemblance to Dider Drogba of Chelsea; he wears a faded Liverpool jersey with the inscription: ‘Olu omo 1’ written at the back. He drags the conductor from the bus as the driver shouts “Danger ma gba fun o” (Danger, don’t allow him o)
The other fellow is remarkably thin with a light complexion and has just a singlet on with a dirty pair of jeans. He replies “Eyin bawo, e ni duro se. A ma lu iya yin pa leni. Eyin were”
(You can’t try anything, we will beat the crap out of your mother today, you crazy people.)
Amidst the confusion the conductor goes insane, punching the body of the vehicle with amazing strength that shocks all the passengers even as he retorts “ki lo so…yeeeeeee, iya mi..”
(What did you say? Yeeeeee… My mother?)
He goes on punching as his driver alights and does the unimaginable…he strips completely naked and takes a boxers pose reminiscent of Mike Tyson skipping around while shouting “iyalaya e ma ku leni…iwo daa… comot your blow.”
(Your great great grand mother will die today.. where are you…comot your blow)
The lady behind me…who said Sunny doesn’t drive a baby boy taps me on the shoulder and says “You better come down and disappear before they return bros..dem go chop u raw o…”
I get down like a peacemaker amidst the gathering crowd and sight a huge billboard with BRF smiling and the slogan ‘Eko o ni baje’ written boldly on it just as a speeding keke napep almost runs into me. The driver is light skinned, his insults confirm my initial guess that he’s an igbo man.
Without much thought I hopped into the tricycle even as I yelled “Hire. Hire, abeg go go” … The driver calms down and starts to drive away. Just then I turned to look at the mayhem we were leaving behind and it was then I saw the graphic letterings stuck to the leather and glass covering made for the tricycle:
‘YNNUS YOB YBAB’
I manage a wry smile as we disappeared into the slowly brightening day.
I must confess that I sometimes miss these kind of experiences (yes, sometimes). Anyone who has experienced Lagos should have one of such stories to tell, it’s the reason why I love this city. Think you have a funny (or not so funny) story to tell bout a Monday morning experience in Lagos (or any other busy city for that matter). Use the comment box and speak your mind. Cheers.