A Lagos Experience

“Final Bus-stop everybody”

The untypical promptness that greeted the pace at which passengers dropped off the bus at the sound of the conductor’s announcement could only mean a thing, it was the last bus stop indeed, and what choice do I have?

It wasn’t my first time in Lagos, neither was it my first time in Ikeja. I have worked for six months at a factory off Toyin Street in this popular capital city, and one good thing about this job was that it kept me within the four walls of the factory almost every day.

The idleness that defined me on this special day brought me a different assignment, one that would take me out of my fortress. My boss needed two set of plastic chairs for his office, and my confidence was my let down, he assumed I was a Lagos boy who could easily find his way around and to keep my pride, I accepted the responsibility.

The journey to Oshodi posed no challenge, an Okada from the office took me straight to “under bridge” from where I got a bus to my destination. The walk around the market wasn’t really different from my usual Bodija Market’s experience in Ibadan, and like Segun a coworker would say, it was a piece of cake.

The meandering that defined my movement around from one end of  the market to the other cost me my entry point, and when I became aware of it, I was in the middle of nowhere left with only a way out, to ask.  I have heard stories about Lagos, I have heard about people who asked and were shown the wrong way, I was scared of experiencing the same, I vowed not to.

“Whosoever I would ask must be formally dressed, and look responsible” I was pleased with my decision and waited for this perfect gentleman, the one round peg in my round profile. Fortunately, it didn’t take long before he showed up. His blue shirt, black tie, black shoes and a pair of black trousers gave him up, he must be a Banker, I concluded. “Excuse me sir, please where can I get a bus to Ikeja?” I asked, with a response that accentuated his   tiredness “you see that main road up there, take a long walk upward, cross to the other side and there you go, your bus should be waiting” he responded. The confidence his answer carried could be held, I couldn’t have doubted it.  With a “thank you” which went simultaneously with lifting the chairs from the ground, I took the long walk. Everything about the description was perfect to the car park, and there the buses were, waiting as he said, only they weren’t waiting for me, they weren’t going to Ikeja, they were going to Sango Otta.

“I should have known, he was too tired to be sincere, I should have known he just wanted to get rid of me ……” I kept blaming myself; I had vowed this would never happen to me, I couldn’t just accept it just did.

It was already 6pm, the moon was coming out, faces were getting hard and yellow, population around the market area was increasing, yet no help surfaced. It was obvious I was either running out of luck, or luck was running out of me, I had to get to Ikeja.

I approached a more compassionate vessel, a woman, an aged woman selling fried plantain by the roadside; she however made it obvious my words were inaudible as she kept asking me to shift for her customers to see her regardless of whatever I was saying. If I was going to get anything out of her, I knew I had to do one thing, “buy”. My payment for the plantain brought my answer, I didn’t have to ask again, she heard me from the blast, free services weren’t just her strength.

Her answer wasn’t just perfect, it was beyond it. From afar I could hear the sound of, “Ikeja! Ikeja!!” reverberating, I felt relieved.

The journey back to Ikeja wasn’t   special; just the usual, it was the announcement from the conductor that brought me back to reality.

“Final Bus-stop everybody”

What to do was however not a problem, I was in Ikeja, an area where every street is named; Just an Okada, and I‘m home. “Straight to Owodunni, off Toyin Street” I said almost as the Okada man parked in front of me. Confidence was the key; I have learnt to always keep my ignorance away from an Okada man. “500 naira sir” the Okada Man billed, I laughed, “you think I don’t know where I am going? 300 naira last of you can leave?” I confidently bargained, with no argument, he accepted my offer, took his money right before departure on account that he needed to change the currency. Then we moved. Almost immediately, we were in front of the office, I was stunned, I knew I had been fooled, I looked at the Okada man who obviously wasn’t in a hurry to move, he wasn’t laughing just starring with a firm look that was ready for any confrontation, I knew I had no choice but to walked away to avoid compounding my woes.

It was the following day when I decided to take a stroll around the area with Segun that I realized the Okada Man knew I didn’t know where I was going from the start, he only allowed me to fool myself. I told him I was going off Toyin Street when I was actually off Toyin Street.

By Daniels Adeoye