Terrific Tales on Traffic - Episode 4 (Let's Talk Lagos Traffic)

How could I have missed my last four alarms? I can tell I got up at 5:30 in the morning to pray the rosary because my fingers were still in the middle of the first mystery. It is now 7am, and I honestly can't remember how I got here. How did I snooze my phone 4 times? Since I missed my quiet time and prayer, I jumped out of bed, raced to the bathroom, and turned on Nathaniel Bassey's Hallelujah Medley on my phone. The music is 13 minutes long, I must have left by the time it is through, I thought. Clown🤡! my brain retorted. "Why didn't you wake me up?", I questioned back.

Even though it stormed heavily the night before, I am too thick-skinned to even think about turning off the air conditioning. My mother would describe me as a cold-blooded beast😆😆. Although the water is quite cold, there is absolutely no time to take a hot bath. I've missed that luxury by ignoring my alarm three times. As the chilly water touches my skin, I shiver. This came after counting 1, 2, ready, and go more than three times. I detest cold water, sweating, and any activity that entails getting water on my skin—with the exception of beach water and all sea activity, I am the Dew of the Sea! I tremble as I return to my chilly room.

I turn off the air conditioning reminding myself that I'm not Elsa. Thanks to being a tech sis, No makeup today or any day plus my makeup isn't suitable for the Lagos traffic with the sweaty conductors who spit in your face, "owo da". Nathaniel Bassey is performing for the second time right now, and it's almost time for the song to end. What shoe to wear now, what outfit to wear, my day is already turning out like the song Jagajaga by Idris. I have to dress according to my mood - fast and furious. I am in the mood for leggings and a shirt dress. Okay, first! these leggings. I quickly pull them on, heaving and humming along Yeshua Hamashiya! Then, I tweak them until they are comfortable.

My thigh begins to itch, I forget I bathed in cold water, Oh, my, not today, abeg. I attempt to distract myself while wearing the shirt since itching and tight clothing go along like Tom and Jerry. Okay, I put on my perfume and chose a mild mystery aroma - Encre noir. It must be a mystery as to why I arrived late today. I then lock the door and rushed to the bus stop with legs like a contender in a walking race. Now as I take you down this terrific GRWM late staff edition, allow me to highlight 5 aspects of Lagos traffic that I absolutely detest.

1. Conductors that set their own price:

"Ketu Iyana oworo! Yaba phase 2! Yaba Sabo Waec! Ketu Ojota Palmgrove! Ikeja Ikeja, palmgrove, maryland ikeja!" Different conductors bellowed with chesty frog-like voices. I wonder if there is a school where all conductors are trained to sound like that. I motioned the Ikeja bus to stop, 

"Ikeja, 500, any bus stop 500", the conductor shouted 

 "Leventis 400 naira" I protested, and the conductor snarled, "Ashawo," and sped away. 

The rules of supply and demand, as well as the result of tardiness and desperation, are to blame. What's wrong with these thugs sef?  7 minutes pass by. Omo at this point, I can pay 600 naira. Why can't the universe align everything to my favor? Another Ikeja bus stops, and I board it without arguing because this is 7:41am.

 "I dey go Leventis",

"Leventis, 400 naira" the conductor says. We move. I sit down next to this guy, I caught him looking at me funny while I was still standing at the bus stop. He tries to start a conversation

2. Random conversations with annoyingly over-friendly strangers

Weekends and mornings are sacred. Every morning, I prefer to clear my thoughts, write down some ideas, strategize, and respond to my admirers and friends. As a result, silence is required, with the exception of the occasional morning greeting, especially if I don't know you. 

"You smell wonderful," He said

"Thank you" I fake smiled, just enough to ensure I end the conversation

"My name is Toyosi, may I have yours?"

Guy free me, I don't want to talk or exchange fake pleasantries, mind your business. my brain nearly forced the words out of my mouth "Rose." I replied

Nice name, like the flower, so lovely. how are you doing today? how was your night?

So rude, can't you see I don't want to talk, How is my night your business. Amebo, which of my facial expression says chat with me, I need company.  please leave me alone. "Good" 

"I saw you yesterday, and I believe we boarded the same bus that broke down."

3. Faulty Ritchety Bus breaking down mid-transit

I remember the incident from yesterday with such rage as it played across my mind in black and white. When the driver had to give the engine two full revs before the car began to gently move, I could feel it in my gut that this car was faulty. When we picked up passengers at Adekunle, the conductor had to push the vehicle before it moved. Now that the vehicle had stopped at Fadeyi, the conductor refused to either give us our money or put us on another bus. I was calm and collected until he attempted to slap the girl who had been holding his pants, shouting fun mi lowo, ma ja eti yi e; He struggled with the lady whilst challenging a young guy who was already pulling off his blazer, 

"Na because I de wear coat, chill first make I remove my coat, I go beat you black and blue", He said. other passengers were already shouting and raining curses on the conductor whilst the driver tried frantically to revive the car

The conductor adamantly still refused, facing the woman holding onto his shirt, 

"I go woundjure you oh, madam leave my shirt," 

 "If you try it, We go beat you here,  give us our money jare". I shouted agitatedly as I tried to hold the woman who was now slapping the conductor shouting, 

"Touch me na touch me first, you go see shege, omo jatijati, oniranu, konida fun ye, rada rada oshi" more Yoruba curses and chaos. I held fast to my phone, you know this is Lagos, Shine ya eyes. After much display of outward stupidity, he returned the money back to everybody.

4. Fish sellers, Market People, and their uncomfortable loads

I nodded and acknowledged that I remembered; I then made a phony call to Oge right away because I felt uneasy. 

"Hey Bunkus, how are you? I'm sorry I missed your call last night." 

The bus had stopped at Makoko junction to carry the fish market vendors. The claustrophobic bus was filled with the smell of roasted and fresh fish.  Yuck! the kind that clung to your dress for days, just like the lady that had just entered and sat close to me. She was wearing an Ankara blouse and a long skirt and was carrying 2 children, together with her companion, carrying a baby strapped to her back. Their eyes were heavy with tiro even the children. They were chatting nonstop in a language that I later identified as Egba. The kids are stepping on my toes as well, and I'm supposed to understand so that I don't act haughty and proud. Their load at the back is also pricking me in the back as the conductor tries to arrange it. Oh Lord! I'm going to smell like fish today. My phony call ended quickly due to the interruption, but at least the friendly stranger man ceased bothering me. I had to distract myself

5. Unreasonable Diversions

Opening Love in Colors by Bolu Babalola which our book club had selected, I was enjoying it as the author told tales utilizing the names of ancient deities from our fairytales and mythology. But the breeze has stopped, why is that, everywhere is hot and sweaty now. One of the kids shifted uncomfortably, bringing me back to the awareness of reality.  Where are we now? This doesn't look familiar. Why is that? Why are we not on the Ikorodu Road expressway, which is free as I can see through the window? Why are we on the streets of Shomolu Bayi? Oh my goodness, there is more traffic here than there is on the road. Everyone is cursing the driver, who is insulting everyone back to back. The conductor is nowhere to be found. I am beyond upset at this point. The rest of the journey will only be upsetting. It is obvious that he chose this route to pick up more passengers, and at each stop, he must shout until the bus is full.

I approach my office smelling like my deceased grandmother, back in those days when she sold roasted fish. Father Lord, I need a car like baje baje. Oh, office A/C, so refreshing!! well, that's why we have an extra scented signature vial in my backpack. I perform my bad smell cleansing, spray at my pulse point, and on the rest all over my clothes as I sit down, What a day! Water!, my brain demanded. I proceed to the dispenser. 

"Hey Wunmi!, Good Morning!"

"Roro, how far? this, our water ritual"

 "Yes oh ", I signed. gulping my 3rd cup of water like a thirsty soldier.  I have fought more than 5 battles to get here.

 Written by Rosemary Ugwuogo aka Dauntless