Driving in and through Lagos can be …*looking for the right word*. I’m pretty sure you get what I am implying. It is an arduous, hectic, time consuming task that requires utmost attention and overall concentration.
I will not bore you with another “bus tale” but this experience begged to be share.
Driving to Apapa via Mile 2 can be all the experience you need to make up your mind about the “smartness” or otherwise of a Lagos guy.
I was well prepared for this early morning drive as I was armed with my pepper spray, stun gun(winks with an evil grin), with my central lock well in place and my valuables well secured under my driver seat, deris God o.
Off I zoomed, set to resume my daily routine of driving on and off from office. My arsenals were very handy especially when I approached the second Rainbow axis en-route Apapa via Mile 2.
As usual, the unavoidable traffic jam was building up as early as six in the morning. Mind you I resume work by eight but must be on the road as early as five to beat the ever present go-slow.
A guy walked up to my side and tapped the glass for me to wind down, I feigned ignorance with nonchalant attitude looking vaguely at his angular features, opening my palms in universal questioning language, and my facial expression conveyed the message -what is it?
He motioned me again to wind down the glass.
I wound down a little and ask him what the matter was.
As he positioned his face close to the opening, I deftly sprayed his face with a good dose of my sweet pepper spray, rolling up the glass as quickly as I sprayed the pepper.
He jerked backward obviously surprised, arcing his face away. As he tried using his sinewy hands to clear the mist, he only rubbed in the peppery substance more and more.
I grinned in an evil way, although it was more of a grin of accomplishment that I had scored a few points. If it were to be our now popular chat language, I must have been ROTFLMHO.
As if that was not enough, the street urchin sauntered away barely avoiding a speeding bike barely. The occupants of the commercial bus beside me erupted in uncontrollable laughter as they witnessed the diminutive driver punishing one of the road menace.
A little way forward again, I met another sets. This group was a quartet and I was very sure they were ready to maximally exploit the standstill. I swallowed hard as I tightened my grip on the steering.
This time around, I wore a morose, disinterested look as I strategized on how to escape the onslaught of these not-so-armyed ‘plastics’ (sorry robbers).
The presumed leader of the gang gently tapped the glass, ordering me to wind down. I was still contemplating what to do when the mean looking, bare chested one punch off the entire glass of the front’s passenger door. It seemed there was no way of escape for this one.
He dipped his hand inside groping at my pigeon hole and rummaging my dash board looking for valuables. While his colleagues stood guard, with menacing looks that told me not to try anything ‘funny’.
As mother luck will have it, there was a break in the holdup as the road cleared up in front as if an angel paved way for me. Seething from the pain of knowing I have to buy a new glass to replace the broken one, I marched on the accelerator dragging the dare devil robber a few meters before swerving to avoid him being trapped under my car.
His colleagues where shouting “Azzident! Azzident!!” as I sped off thanking God for another hilarious escape.
It was truly an AZZIDENT.
Purely a work of fiction.