Kingsley stood at the bus stop. It had been over thirty minutes. The buses passing by had full passengers. He decided to move forward.
The okada ban couldn’t have taken effect so fast.
He kept moving forward and full buses kept passing him.
Should I go back to Durbar junction? I’m almost at Mile 2 Oke na.
He decided to keep walking. His backpack was beginning to feel like an extra baggage. It was necessary to do some office work during the weekend.
Which kain Monday be dis na? This one na suffer head. Ah!
Ten minutes after, he was at Mile 2 Oke.
Conductors began to shout.
“CMS, 300 naira!”
“For what!” Kingsley blurted. His hands went to the handle of his backpack and he looked away, waiting for another bus.
People began to rush the bus. It had not dawn on Kingsley yet that something has happened.
Another bus came and the conductor began to shout, “CMS, 400 naira enter with your change o! 1000 naira ma wole o!”
Beads of perspiration were formed on his face and some sweat trickled down his spine as he rushed the bus this time.
He entered the office 9:15AM. He was disconcerted and wishing somehow he would disappear back to the comfort of his bed. Tired and not willing to work, he sat in front of the computer.
“Kings Baba!” Seun hailed him from the door of his office.
“Seun, how far?”
“E far o! You no see as the road be?”
“I can’t have this convo, abeg.”
Seun laughed loud.
Seun walked away.
Kingsley stood from his seat opened the window blind then shut it again. His eyes located the A/C so did his hands. The cool air rushed into the room with such vehemence.
Kingsley went back to his seat, rest his back on the chair, threw his head back and closed his eyes.
He tried to block out the noise of the conductor and the passengers argument. The discussion was echoing in his head.
It was lunch break at 2PM. Seun and Chioma were eating in silence in the kitchen when Kingsley joined them with his food.
“It can’t be well with Lagos State government o!”
“Haba, what’s the curse for now?” Chioma asked as she emptied her leftover food into the trash.
“I suffered looking for bus this morning.”
Seun cocked a brow at Kingsley but said nothing.
“If you ask me, I think the government has just taken a right step. Those bike men are so reckless, do you know how many deaths and accidents they’ve caused?”
Kingsley eyed Chioma. She was in those pencil skirts and heels of hers.
“Oh! Is that why they didn’t think of bringing out enough buses to cover the okada loss. I can’t blame you sha. It’s because you come to work with a car.”
“You have no point Kingsley.” Chioma walked out the kitchen.
Seun suddenly burst into laughter.
“I told you we should compare trekking notes this morning, you were doing alakowe with me.”
Kingsley glared at Seun. If looks could burn, Seun would be ashes by now. Unfortunately, they don’t burn.
Kingsley didn’t know that Monday morning would be nothing compared to the evening Lagos.
Kingsley had to trek for an hour before he found a bus.
When he got home his legs were pounding and his head was aching like they would fall off.
He took some pain relievers but he had to do one last thing before hitting the bed.
He picked his phone and went to his Facebook wall.
“Lagos State Government
Booky Glover, 2020
Image Credit: Ajayi Olubunmi
Ma wole – don’t enter
Pele tie – sorry about your own
Alakowe – literate.