My Lagos experience: the hustling spirit

My Lagos experience

Episode 2: the hustle is a spirit!

I observed perfect silence that was slightly polluted by the foot step of few people. Looking towards the heaven, I saw something like a white-cool-air falling on my skin and my bags and I guess it fell on the parked buses too because I can see a replica of what I’m seeing in the atmosphere on the buses too. I tried to touch it and it was a confirmation because my touch exposed the real white glass of the bus and left the shape I made with my hands and also left the tip of my finger wet with water.

I bumped into another bus and tried writing my name on it and it was fun doing that- I forgot I was going somewhere. I quickly came back to my senses and walked towards the particular position to board the bus going towards my destination.   

I was dazed by what I saw- I thought the boot of those yellow eighteen passengers buses were for heavy loads alone. I thought it was for the loads we have to pay extra amount for after paying the original transport fare for or the one we have to run after throwing the loads into to catch up with the bus before he leaves us behind while trying to run away from the government officials on the road. I thought it was for those heavy rice they stack in it so much that the bus begin to crawl and making a hell of sound to move, while passengers complain about a whole lot of things- from the bus to the driver and finally on our government. That was all I thought the boot could do.

But at this time of the morning, I saw the boots sheltering people! The door to the boot was lifted to it’s limit while a very long soul lay across the width of the bus; he took his legs to the roof of the bus otherwise, the space won’t contain him. as I shook my head in pity, I saw this time a guy and a lady in another boot sleeping there. I almost cried but I didn’t know when I began to thank God for my life. I intensified my giving of thanks when I saw some people sleeping on the bench outside and others on the seats of the buses- I guess they are the richest.

I finally came out of all the drama after seeing some people around a bus. Smokes coming from different angles accompanied by the irritating smell while some at one corner sharing something that looks like a ‘curry and thyme powder mixed with some vegetables’ picking something out of it; then rolled into a smoke with a paper. A lady was standing close to the bus which is almost filled; she was having some plastic bottles arranged like a cone in a big bowl placed on a stool front of her and some other things in sachets around the bowl- not too long after, I realized some of these guys were holding these sachet contents and anytime they seeped a little, they behaved as if a bitter content pass through their mouth and became hot in their heart.

Finally, I realized these people I was seeing- those sleeping and those taking their own morning tea happened to be the drivers that most us board their bus in the day but didn’t know what their night is like- the cold, mosquito, sort sleep, smoke, gin and so on.

Lagos and this hustle; I was still doubting that the hustle is a spirit until I finally got to my destination!

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