The Devil Rides In Buses

I think I really should consider driving in this hectic Lagos traffic. Bus-ridding is no longer convenient and cheap for me. Everyday I am compelled to put up with bull craps. Rubbing shoulders with the wrong people; getting smeared with other people’s sweat; having to endure and not drop dead from Mr. StinkBreathe’s endless chatter; inhaling putrid farts in airless spaces, and the verbal abuses of arrogant conductors, who pretends they don’t speak a word of English. Lagos bus conductors, they hate you on sight if you’re wearing pressed, clean shirt or polished shiny shoes, or if you’re holding a book, or have a pen stuck on your breast-pocket.

I wonder if this lady has a boil somewhere on her hind as she cannot seem to sit still for more than 2 seconds. Her constant movement is just chafing away my left side ribs, and trampling on, my already fired, nerves. Every 2 second of the long dragging hot afternoon hour, she turns left, or right, back and forth poking my ribs every so often. At every 70th beat of my racing heart, she changes position and virtually sits her big arse on my already sagged shoulder. She knows what she is doing, as she turns her head to face me- looking right through me- I don’t even like her face… now she done it again… Eish! If she was a guy, I will never have forgiven her misdemeanor. It is not her fault. I have no cogent reason other than lack of audacity to drive my self- with all the space I need, breathing my own fart, in the factory-fitted a/c, Nissan Sentra idling away at home this minute. Eish!

*shhh* she’s dozed off. The mass of her body seems at rest, but, blimey! Her head rests on my shoulder. Now I dare not move, else I arouse her and the onslaught starts over again.

I guess I should just tune off, plug-in my ear piece, and start to count “one thousand sheep, two thousand sheep… Three thousand sheep…” better still, I should be counting my blessings and naming them one by one. Most life’s troubles come as blessings in disguise eh? I will remember to do that the next time, or when Miss mill-stone eventually gets off this bus and let me enjoy my ride. I may have to get down sooner to preserve my sanity, anyhow. Eish!


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