BUS TALES 3 – Arome Ameh

3rd mainland

Bridge Call.

Episode 1 here
http://t.co/4L3YPZxXTA

Episode 2 here
http://t.co/f87nTanwkF

I remembered back in the days of paid employment,I would wake up as early as 4am,just to beat the early morning traffic and make it to victoria island where I worked.

Looking back now, the bus rides to and from the island were very interesting, but back then it really wasn’t, trust me.

In order for me to endure the rides, I had an option of becoming a mindless zombie, and just stare blankly out the window, until I get to my stop or play the role of the tourist or sponge, and absorb everything and everyone on my route.

There were a wide variety of people in buses, you get your average office worker, who would sit in the bus and act like he/she was better than everyone else on the bus, they always tried to send out the air of “this is temporary”, like anyone asked.

Then you have your market women, who for some reasons find the bus a very comfortable sleeping place,and always woke up at their exact bus stops, as if they had a silent bus stop identifier alarm inbuilt in their brains.

Then you have your students: primary, secondary and university. The primary and secondary mostly sat quietly,but the university undergrads, they are the ones who have conversations with head phones on their ears, I mean who does that, they discuss about lectures and who did what, like it was the most important thing going on in the world at that moment, who could blame them,in their own world it actually is.

Then you have people like me, who are just there to get from point A to B, observe and probably write about it later.

Then you have your weird guys, you know the type you feel is gonna rob you and beat you up in the process.

This leads me to a very interesting encounter.

Normal day, I woke up, had a quick wash, got dressed and rushed  to the bus stop and jumped on the bus, that day I decided to be a sponge, fitted the occasion, it was a Friday, yeah TGIF, so nothing could ruin my day.

As usual, there was the garden variety of passengers, everyone doing their thing, we had just hit the bridge, when I heard a scream from the front seat, a woman obviously headed for the market was frantically searching her sack for her mobile phone.

She cried and begged, that who ever took it should please return it, everyone in the bus kept asking her if  she had indeed gotten on the bus with the phone, her reply was in the affirmative, but others kept asking like they didn’t hear her reply anyway.

Half way on the bridge, the driver decided to pull over, not out of pity or civic responsibility, but just to shut the woman up, personally her screaming was becoming annoying. While he pulled over, I took a quick glance of everyone on the bus, as if in an attempt to profile everyone, well there was a guy sitting one seat from me, and he fit the bill nicely, and I concluded within myself, here is the pick pocket.

The bus pulled over,we all got out,and the search began, but not before we tried to call the number, hmmmm, switched off, as expected.

I don’t think my assumptions were wrong about the weird guy, because everyone insisted he should be searched first, well he was searched, and to my surprise, nothing was found on him. Wow, talk about never judging a book by its cover right, looks can sometimes be deceptive!

Well the search continued, one after the other, everyone was searched, luckily on this ride we had a member of the Man- o- war, so he served the role of Sheriff, anyway I quickly lost interest in the search, as it wasn’t yielding any result, and I was beginning to suspect she never boarded the bus with her cell phone.

I was leaning over the guard rails looking into the murky water below, when I heard a familiar shriek,”na im be that” I heard her say, I quickly turned back and saw her arguing with one of the passengers, the man insisted it was his, and when asked why the phone was switched off, he said the battery was dead, yeah right, typical excuse.

Well our resident Sheriff insisted on testing out the phone just to be sure, and just like magic, the dead phone came to life, I quickly dialled the number and viola, the resident commodities trader’s allegations were confirmed.

She immediately pounced on the man,and proceed to bite him and rain curses on him, we all pretended to pull her off, but I guess the mob mentality was setting in.

Anyway long story short,we decided to leave him on the bridge, maybe the long walk and sea breeze would help clear his head, besides no one would ever stop to pick up anyone in the middle of the bridge.

As we drove away, I looked back, at this sharply dressed fellow, with his clean pressed shirt, tie to match, a nice hair cut and a neat leather bag,and wondered what would have pushed him to steal a trium phone.

By Arome Ameh (The Priest)

follow the writer on twitter@ameh_arome

Check out his personal blog www.ameharome.wordpress.com where where he advocate against domestic violence.

Watch out for Episode 4 by Dennis Agyeman on Monday 22nd July 2013

yellow_bus_lagos.jpg

We are grateful to all the writers and the readers, thanks a bunch y’all.

Isaacola AA @newnaija on twitter

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8 Replies to “BUS TALES 3 – Arome Ameh”

  1. Looks like the cool looking ones are the bad guys these days. I have the luxury of avoiding buses where I live and I do that a lot. It just pisses me off – the noise, the slowness, the overloading and stuff. Of course, immediately I enter Lagos, I know say na bus be my best bet. I thoroughly enjoyed d piece

    Like

  2. Leads me to a recent experience I had on an international flight. Just as we hit abuja air space, one chinese man declared that his $4500 was missing from the over head compartment. Everyone was shocked, he also searched round the usual suspects but nothing yielded. Trust Nigerians to give him a piece of our minds. One particularly vocal lady left from the opposite aisle to berate him and insult him, just as we were disembarking the said lady stooped down in the first class section of the plane, took a new blanket and calmly zipped it into her hand luggage. I was shocked! The brazen theft and guts of it all! Is this what Nigerians are made of?

    Like

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