I took the Danfo bus again after a very loooong time.
It was a Monday morning and the hazy harmattan clung tenaciously to the streets of Lagos. An indication that the Heavens have visited again.
Yesterday was Sunday and I was supposed to do a photo shoot for a client but it was disrupted.
On Saturday, in preparation for the Sunday shoot, took my car to the mechanic for servicing and wheel alignment. That morning for the first time, I was apprehended by the officials of the Federal Road Safety Commission (FRSC). I didn’t have C-Caution and Fire Extinguisher.
I begged, scoped, pleaded, and begged again.
I was pardoned but threatened not to let go of me next time.
Deal. I promised to buy those items and report personally to him.
We shook hands with smiles.
I think something is changing in Nigeria.
Ordinarily, when you’re caught, you’re caught.
Talking about change, I, two weeks previously hung out at Coffe Café in Victoria Island. Smooth runs. Coming back to Mainland, and on Carter Bridge, my car ran out of fuel! And it was 11 pm!
I was scared as shit. I put on the hazard light and started flagging down cars. Of course, nobody stopped.
Then few meters away, I saw two men in black carrying riffles and walking slowly towards me. They turned out to be policemen.
Politely they greeted and inquired about the situation.
They said they saw my signal and knew something was wrong.
They hung around and said ‘we are here to protect you’
What! Do Nigeria police protect?! I thought they were coming to ‘obtain’ us.
I exchanged a surprise glance with Terver who was as well scared to death. We thanked them and they threw another bombshell…
‘We are just doing our job’
Really!!!
Trust me. Something is changing in Nigeria.
So back to the mechanic.
We fixed the car and headed to my painter’s shop.
I parked the car there and left for a church leadership meeting at The Scepter’s House. 3 hours later, I left there to resume painting in the house.
Later in the evening, I went to the painter’s to pick up the car.
I drove off.
Guess what?
The car that was meticulously painted a few hours ago was bashed a few meters away from the mechanic’s by a learner.
Okota woman!
That was Saturday evening, and my Sunday was punched.
On Monday, I boarded a bus to work and that gave me a chance to see what has changed on the street.
My street sense was again activated. I felt alive like a Lagosian.
Hoodie on my head, bag on my back. Jumping buses, rubbing shoulders with strangers.
The bus conductor cheated me with N50. I let it go. Before, I would have fought for it.
Again, something has changed.
I enjoyed the bus ride as the harmattan bleeew into my face. I swallowed several gushes of air and felt alive.
Yeah. EKO.
Then I noticed a peculiar similarity between the bus driver and myself.
Our driving!
We drive the same way; with anger that has been contained for too long and needed to find expression; with frustration, about the depressing state of the nation; with determination, to get there fast and alive; and with positive energy, to make sure the future is secured.
My Danfo driver ‘puts head’ wherever there is an opening and pushes hard, threatening competition, surpassing oppositions. He sees long traffic and pulls off behind, forming his own line, and immediately creating followership. He keeps pushing till he gets to the front, and at par with the leader. With another leap, he becomes the leader of the pack, ahead of the line.
Then…up up, goes the kite.
That’s my mainland Danfo driver.
And right from the street, I drew a huge inspiration.
‘Toyotaaaa!!!’ The bus conductor yelled at my bus-stop.
‘Toyota wa o’. I yelled back. (Don’t ask me why)
Be like my Danfo driver.
Keep pushing.
Keep going.
Don’t stop.
Don’t follow the crowd.
Form your own line.
Create your own pack.
Be ahead.
Go!
Keep going.
Live your life…
#EKO
