Amidst great emotions, I bade my sister farewell as I entered the rickety bus at Oshodi car park. Luckily for me, I was the last passenger. I took my place beside a middle aged woman clutching my bag tightly to my chest because of the peculiarity of the area. There have been several reported cases of robbery at Oshodi car park and I don’t want to be the latest victim. As usual, the conductor collected transport fare , each time repeating their regular slogan “No change o”. A lady passes a 5000 naira note to the conductor from the back. The conductor immediately flared up “I told you that there is no change, you are now giving me 5000 naira note. How much did we buy the bus itself? “. Another man replied “no be her fault now, shebi na our government wey dey change currency like handkerchief na them we go blame “. They agreed to break the money down in a filling station so they let sleeping dogs lie for a while. The process of money collection was completed and they beckoned on the driver. When I saw a man walking with crutches walking to the bus, I thought he is one of the beggars in the car park but I was surprised when he limped off to the driver’s seat. As he ignited the car his colleagues were hailing him “ rora sare o ko ma tun ni accident mi o” meaning “Don’t overspeed so you won’t have another accident . I was scared when I heard this. His injury must have been a result of a previous accident. Are we about to suffer a similar fate?
Judged by the way this man manoeuvred the bus out of the car park, we already knew that we needed grace to make it safely to Ibadan. Notwithstanding, I still held my breath. Suddenly, the woman sitting beside me started removing the shell of a boiled egg. I hate the smell of boiled egg. It actually nauseates me. To worsen the situation the woman was talking with the egg in her mouth. You know, when you talk while eating egg your mouth expands as if you just suffered a knockout blow from Mohammed Ali. The guys at my back were discussing about the disgraceful outing Nigeria had at the London Olympics. I sighed; at least I can contribute to this. I joined the conversation and together we analysed factors responsible for the lacklustre performance of Nigerian athletes at the competition. Suddenly, an elderly man joined the conversation. “ I didn’t like the way Jide Kosoko ran the 100 metres race at all. He didn’t try at all.” We all looked into each other’s eye. Are we hearing the wrong thing? Still in shock ,” I replied Jide Kosoko is not an athlete sir”. On hearing this he laughed hysterically and replied “What do you know, you are just a kid. Are you telling me, You didn’t see Ramsey Nouah in the boxing ring too”. Those that understood the rubbish this man was saying were already staring with mouth wide opened. This must be another Yaba left candidate. The man’s contribution ended our discussion and we all kept quiet and once again everyone minded his business. Our driver had brought us close to death on like four occasions despite the commuters’ endless plea. The most deadly was when he engaged a fully loaded tanker in a Head- Head race.
Some older men at another corner of the bus had started another discussion but this time it is about politics. They were addressing the greediness and selfishness of most Nigerian politicians. As before, that man joined the discussion again. He said “but I want to ask a question o? Everybody paused waiting for his question. “But how will Obama decamped from PDP and go to ACN? This man has established his mental state beyond reasonable doubt. This strange man crashed the conversation again for the second time.
We have covered the better part of the journey and we are now approaching the largest city in West Africa. Suddenly the car began to jerk. If there was a DJ in the bus. I would have assumed the car was responding to the DJ’s beat. With a last thrust, the car broke down in the middle of the road. Some passengers quickly rushed down and they pushed the car off the road. Some of the passengers were already calling the driver names. I was also very angry because we are in the middle of nowhere. Suddenly I felt someone jerking me. “It was the woman that sat beside me” “Wake up, we are now in Ibadan”. I rubbed my eye as I regained consciousness. I had actually slept throughout the journey. I looked back only to see the strange man I saw in my dream reading a book titled “The mad man”.
I concluded that some parts of my dream are real afterwards as I alighted from the bus.
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