Traffic is something that no matter where you are in the world, you’ll have to go through it, whether you like it or not. We’re humans and we have to move from place to place, and the traffic issues arise when way too many people are going to the same place at the same time, or some other thingamajiggy that causes the road to become clogged.
Whether you use a private car, or you use public transport, the traffic is not your mate. No matter who you are, you’ll surely mellow. Unless your car can develop wings and launch itself into the sky, you’ll be stuck right there like everyone else.
I hate stress. It was one of the first things I noticed about myself when I started working. And one thing Lagos traffic is synonymous with is stress. Sometimes, traveling within Lagos State is like putting yourself through the wringer, it should be a paid job on its own because it’s tasking, both mentally and physically. By the time you’d get home, you’d be so tired that all you’d want would be to sleep.
To an extent, it’s easier when you’re in your car. Especially when you have your AC on full blast and you’re jamming good music, if you’re not in a hurry, then you’d most likely be having a good time. However, if you’re on public transport, the kind of bus you’re on will determine if you’ll enjoy the trip or not. That’ll be the deciding factor on whether the heat and stuffiness will get to you, or the noise both from within and without the bus will drive you insane.
I also have experience of drama in public transport. I talked about one time when I spent over twelve hours on a single spot in Lagos-Ibadan Expressway, during the #ENDSARS protest. From 3 PM that afternoon to 3 AM the next morning, we didn’t move an inch. I’ve also talked about the countless checkpoints we face here that are mounted by the Police.
However I don’t want this to be a sad post, so I’ll talk about a happier one from my childhood. This was long ago when I was still in Primary school. My sisters and I were returning home from school. The school was a bit far, so we always had to use the Keke Napep (tricycles) or buses when going or coming.
That fateful day, we took the Keke as usual. We were the last passengers to board and we filled up the Napep. The journey started and it was without much drama. Until we were more than halfway through and one of the other passengers wanted to alight. At the time, I think the fare was cheap, either #30 or #50. I’m not sure anymore. And back then, you don’t pay upfront, you pay when you’re getting off.
So, this guy pulled out a #500 note and gave it to the driver who instantly became furious and it was understandable. While calling for passengers, he made it clear that he didn’t have any change and that everyone was to enter with their change. This particular customer refused to listen and entered anyway, knowing the money he had was too large to easily change.
The driver refused to accept the money, he parked the Napep and ordered the passenger to go and look for change himself. The passenger was not having it either, he didn’t see how he would be looking for change for the driver of the bus. The passenger conveniently forgot that he was in the wrong and should never have entered in the first place, he was claiming to be in the right and the driver had no reason to be pissed. All this only served to make the driver more angry.
I can’t really remember how exactly, but it quickly escalated into a fight. Fists were flying all around and soon, the two grown men were in the gutter, punching and shoving each other as they hurled insults at themselves.
While they fought, my sisters and I snuck out of the Napep, and as people gathered around the fighters to separate them, we ran off! Yeah! We ran without paying the fare.
We had already been driven more than halfway through the journey, and we knew some in-roads we could use that would get us to the park and then on our way home. As we walked, we talked about the fight and how it saved us some money which we would use to buy the popular telephone juice (orange or black currant juice in telephone-shaped containers).
However, we were shocked to our bones when we got to the park and found the same Napep there! The driver was there as well, he looked bruised and all but he was okay and his eyes were red. We could see that he was still very much angry. We guessed that after the people separated them, he got in his Napep and drove to the park.
We were so scared that he would recognize us and beat us up for trying to run with his money. We saw him fight, the sound of those fists hitting flesh was still fresh in our minds, and we were not ready to test their potency. So, we did what any child would do in that situation.
We ran!!
We went around so he wouldn’t see us and then ran like our lives depended on it. We ran for a long time and the further we went, the more funny it seemed and we started laughing. Imagine laughing while your heart is racing from fear and stress, it wasn’t even funny. But we were still laughing and running. And we didn’t stop until we got to our street.
We did buy the telephone juice, it was chilled and very sweet. So, it was worth the risk. In retrospect, we probably shouldn’t have done that. But we were kids, and while that doesn’t serve as an explanation, it feels like a get-out-of-jail-free card! It’s not something I’d do as an adult though, I’m a good boy now. I can buy all the telephone juices I want, too bad they don’t make them anymore.
When it comes to drama and fights in public transport, I’ve witnessed a lot of it! From the time I watched a man go naked while he was arguing with a woman to when I unknowingly entered the Napep of an agbero (thug) and was almost roped into a street fight. Can you imagine?! Maybe one of these days, I’ll tell you all about it.
