I couldn't tush this piece by giving it some sleek title like 'traffic memoirs" I just called it exactly what I experienced "Palaver"... One song writer said " palaver you dey find, palaver you go get" well I wasn't looking for palaver but it sure found me.
It was rush hour in Lagos and I was stuck in traffic, OMG!! I mean snail pace movement... I didn't know I was cluster-phobic. A distance that should be covered in no more than 25 minutes was going to take an eternity...(Lagos na wah) In a city as boisterous as Lagos your wits need to be as sharp as a razor blade to cut through the stress.
My journey began 20 minutes too late, ''if I had set out 20 minutes earlier I wouldn't be here''..
Half way through the trip I started to look around, the street was bustling not minding the heavy vehicular buildup..not a pretty sight...
The back seat of the cab---some shocking revelation. First I noticed the crunching beneath my feet, the last occupant had probably been to the beach, because the sand I was stepping on was damp; on the other side was a half empty bottle of water and half drunk sachet of yoghurt .
Just then, the neatly carved tribal marks on the cab driver caught my attention.I continued to stare wide eyed as if admiring art when his heavy yoruba accent jolted me "anty, effritin is ok?" I just smiled knowing I had been caught staring....meantime, the down pour kept at it as my patience grew thin...
Its funny thought how the streets of Lagos have a way of entertaining you..
Motorists and motorcyclists continued to manoeuvre the narrow streets and whatever space they saw...now I was sweating profusely my note pad became a fan, only to realise the heating system in the car was on...oh my!! "anty na becos of rain I on am" again I smiled hiding my frustration..
I looked outside as if to find solace, then I saw them, the hawkers in the rain, on the third mainland bridge. These guys weren't bothered by the down pour we all were taking shelter from.
As we descended the bridge knowing my ordeal was almost coming to an end, without any warning I felt the car stop right in the centre of the road....."oh my, we must have a flat" I thought...''anty, make I piss"........................................that's what you get entering an old man's cab.
He insisted on calling me anty, why?
"ah, thank you".....I think he saw my confusion and decided to engage me in random conversation but that wasn't working..I'd respond in brisk pidgin and scribble in my note pad. from the look on his face I could tell what he was thinking.
The downpour reduced to drizzles and the loud chattering from nearby cars became more annoying (so the rain had drowned out the noise...) The splattering sound of water, the glitter of rain drops the blaring horns and the fresh air all seemed so beautiful.
Anyway, a pee break and 3 hours later my sojourn was drawing to an end I was almost relieved, the fact that I was pressed became more unbearable..now I got to go, I really need to go...................................rbg
It was rush hour in Lagos and I was stuck in traffic, OMG!! I mean snail pace movement... I didn't know I was cluster-phobic. A distance that should be covered in no more than 25 minutes was going to take an eternity...(Lagos na wah) In a city as boisterous as Lagos your wits need to be as sharp as a razor blade to cut through the stress.
My journey began 20 minutes too late, ''if I had set out 20 minutes earlier I wouldn't be here''..
Half way through the trip I started to look around, the street was bustling not minding the heavy vehicular buildup..not a pretty sight...
 |
| Waste Bin.. |
The back seat of the cab---some shocking revelation. First I noticed the crunching beneath my feet, the last occupant had probably been to the beach, because the sand I was stepping on was damp; on the other side was a half empty bottle of water and half drunk sachet of yoghurt .
 |
| Yoruba tribal marks!! |
Just then, the neatly carved tribal marks on the cab driver caught my attention.I continued to stare wide eyed as if admiring art when his heavy yoruba accent jolted me "anty, effritin is ok?" I just smiled knowing I had been caught staring....meantime, the down pour kept at it as my patience grew thin...
Its funny thought how the streets of Lagos have a way of entertaining you..
 |
| Food is ready!! |
I looked outside as if to find solace, then I saw them, the hawkers in the rain, on the third mainland bridge. These guys weren't bothered by the down pour we all were taking shelter from.
As we descended the bridge knowing my ordeal was almost coming to an end, without any warning I felt the car stop right in the centre of the road....."oh my, we must have a flat" I thought...''anty, make I piss"........................................that's what you get entering an old man's cab.
He insisted on calling me anty, why?
"ah, thank you".....I think he saw my confusion and decided to engage me in random conversation but that wasn't working..I'd respond in brisk pidgin and scribble in my note pad. from the look on his face I could tell what he was thinking.
The downpour reduced to drizzles and the loud chattering from nearby cars became more annoying (so the rain had drowned out the noise...) The splattering sound of water, the glitter of rain drops the blaring horns and the fresh air all seemed so beautiful.
Anyway, a pee break and 3 hours later my sojourn was drawing to an end I was almost relieved, the fact that I was pressed became more unbearable..now I got to go, I really need to go...................................rbg
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