YOU, STRESS AND YOUR BUS CAPTAIN

I was scheduled to make a trip to Lagos in the early hours of one of the past Mondays. My Sunday which ought to be a day of rest was full of work. I had left the bedroom in a mess while prepping for the previous holiday trip.

The kitchen was upside down and dust had a good time settling on everything in its path. Everywhere was dusty including my newly cut hair just making its debut home-coming entrance. That thing should be given an 'All Time Burglar" award for finding its way into homes despite security measures.

   After church and some other running around in town, I went home and got down to work. Never knew domestic chores could be as energy-sapping and time-consuming as this. Salutations to you women. I swept, washed, mopped and cleaned the place to a bit of sense at least. Then night fell, and before I could fall asleep, the annoying alarm clock blared into the early morning silence. 5am found me on the road and for the first time ever, I found it difficult to stay alert. Body;tired, brain;sleepy,eyes;heavy, vision;blurry, muscles;aching. I had to rely on my sense of smell to pick the fumes from the exhaust of trailers without rear lights to locate their positions on the road. All in all, my foot still wouldn't let go of the throttle. I was 20 knots to finishing the speedometer of a loose and slippery 2005 Toyota Sequoia with a poor handling when I brought myself to serious caution. I reminded myself I wasn't alert enough to handle any emergency. Every speeding devil knows safety comes first except you landed on the hospital floor with your head first while exiting mama's orifice. Driving, an hobby, became serious work that morning. 

   I didn't realize how stressed I was till I got to my destination, walked into a restaurant, ordered food and slept off immediately after the meal right there in that chair for about an hour. I woke up, suspecting my meal was doped, I searched myself for any missing item including my testicles. Then I walked up to the waitress to ask if I'm still in Lagos. Her smile reassured me I was. You're wondering why I checked my pants right? Bros,Naija hot! People dey find money!

   On my return trip, I boarded a bus at Oshodi and after some tantrums and hullabaloo the ridiculous #1,470 fare caused, we finally took off, with passengers still screaming for their #30 change in pitches as high as those of a tongue on fire. I sat beside the driver. A young fella with long mosquito legs. He had to recline his seat farther than normal to create space for them. He drove at average speed (coz I don't know what normal speed is) and constantly fought with the adamant gearbox; the kind that refuse to engage the gear stick into higher gears till the vehicle has slowed down to the speed of the lower ones you were trying to escape from.

   Not long into the journey, something tugged me to keep tab on him. I looked over to his side after we exited Berger and this chap was literally asleep. I wiped my face to ascertain I wasn't hallucinating. I looked over again and he was awake. Devil na bastard! I just saw this guy sleeping now?, I asked myself. I tried again and he was asleep. I let him go off and on for a few minute expecting him to take caution. Suddenly, he just locked those eyes without permanently this time. When I remembered my own experience that morning, the flash of my unborn children and the fact that I've got no life photocopy anywhere, I didn't waste time in smacking this fella right in the face; something a yoruba dictionary will define as 'igbaju oloyi'. A rotating resounding dirty slap. The kind yoruba mothers give you the third time after waking you twice in the morning. Who knew I had that kinda talent? Awe o o n sun! In english;Dude, you're sleeping! His reply didn't come as a shock. It's expected of every man with ego in his balls to deny being caught sleeping while driving . Mi o sun (I'm not sleeping)! he replied, barking at me. Sighting the opportunity to clear his cache of any hidden iota of drowsiness and send alertness to his brain, I engaged him in a few minute argument. Upon hearing our voices, my sleeping co-passengers jerked up. 'Bros, abeg no let am sleep', they begged. Even the old ones ripe enough to go see Jesus . Then I remembered the words of Idibia; 'nobody won die but dem won go heaven'.

   We touched down, I alighted from the vehicle, turned to the young chap and told him to go rest and resist the financial urge to embark on a return night journey if he values his life over money. He smiled and said he was going straight to bed.

   I learnt two quick lessons that day. To rest well prior to a trip if I must drive. Secondly, to be involved in the process of a journey;never to hand over total control of my life to a bus captain. He is also human. Makes me remember a time I boarded a motorcycle to somewhere within town. The bike man had to use the highway, I didn't even mind the speed at which he was going coz of his calculations and vivid preemptive decision making. Then he was gonna overtake a cab but a vehicle already overtaking us was hidden in the blind spot of his left side mirror. I heard the sound of that vehicle and tapped him. He took caution and returned to his lane, then thanked me for alerting him saying many passengers would have cared less about other aspect of the journey as long as he wasn't speeding. I hope I helped someone out there too?