Special thanks to all the writers, readers, critics and editor of Bus Tales. You are the boss all.
Happy new month to you all.
Episode 6 here
Six years ago, my wife to be and I traveled down to Ilorin to see my parents in preparation for our wedding and the story am about narrating happened on our return back to Lagos en route Akure to see her parent.
Um, public buses with its attendant comic is actually a microcosm of the nation itself.
The journey began with someone from the back seat saying a muslim prayer which we all said amen to even though most of what was said were in Arabic language.
Yours truly is of little stature as you must have guessed from my write ups but the lady on my right hand side was oblivious to this fact and to my fiancée sitting beside me because in the absence of any cushion sorry shoulder pad on my flat shoulder, she positioned her head comfortably on my shoulder and slept so deeply that she snored. The more I tried to nudge her head off my shoulder albeit gently, the more she positioned it well. She was so deep asleep like she was in her own bedroom and by then, the snores had graduated to the mountain climbing heavy duty truck kind.
Gradually, we settled into the rhythmic “faaaah faaah” sound from the engine. After like an hour into the journey, the “snorer” woke up and started shifting uncomfortably. I asked her “hope their is no problem ma?” She just nodded her head in reply. I could see sweat oozing out in torrents cascading down her face with the rumbling in her stomach so audible, my gentle manliness would not allow me to ask again. After a while, she voiced out “please driver, I want to ease myself”. The driver managed to park beside the road and that lady tried jumping out to dash to the bush. As if nature conspired against her, the hem of her dress caught some iron and she fell face down but not before I saw streams of excrete leaking from her exposed leg. I quickly chastised myself for looking at the legs of a lady in such a disgusting situation. After what seemed like eternity, she sluggishly came out of the bush but nobody could complain of wasting time nor could we mention the unpleasant odour tormenting our olfactory lobes.
As we approached Akure, a powerful and overwhelming burning smell overpowered the pungent smell we were already getting accustomed to and before we could say Jack, somebody shouted fire which was actually smoke. The left rear tyre flew out and was running as if it is contention with Usain Bolt for sprint, the foolish conductor jumped out and before we knew it, he had just used the better part of his bum to write a bloody landmark on the road. After much swerving and the rest, the driver gained full control of the bus and as fate would have it, the conductor was in a bloody mess with a whole chunk of his bum missing.
He got into an accident while trying to escape from an accident that eventually did not occur. In a bid not to be injured, he got more than he even bargained for. Irony of life!!
I’m @newnaija on twitter.
Watch out for Bus Tale 8 tomorrow 2nd August by @kontactrita , faith series on 3rd August and face me, I slap U on monday 4th August. Bus Tales 9 and 10 by @saymalcolm and @nykelodeon follows immediately.