One of the places that you should never judge people by the way they look is in Lagos and Onitsha. In the former, a stray looking guy might be a military officer and in the latter, a guy looking like a pauper might just be your unknown landlord.
Fridays are my happiest. I just let myself get lost in my daydreaming and indulge myself in the luxury of waiting for the long-expected weekend.
Today, the road is free. We ride in calmness except for the sound from the engine that depicts acceleration in our pace. A man dressed in Ankara is seated by my right and a lady holding her umbrella and looking lost is seated by my left. We approach Costain and just as the bus tends to swerve a careless bike rider attempts a rough overtaking.
Our infuriated driver is yelling at him as well as the passengers.
In Nigeria, some questions don't pose as questions. "Are you mad? Are you crazy?" Our driver is hurling at the indeed crazy biker.
The bike rider is obviously the obstinate one. He does not have an inch of remorse on his face.
Instead, he shoots back. "You are the one who is mad. You are the one who is crazy. Do you know who I am?" The man apparently in his fifties pulls up his bike and alights. He charges towards our driver's door with a military belt in his hand.
My heart is panting. Will this just be a whoop of assses or proper combat like a Jason Statham Vs Arnold Schwarzenegger. I am not certain. All I can do is stare.
The bike rider approaches and our driver alights pulling off his tracksuit trousers. Does he want to fight naked? Holy Moses! Who fights naked?
Nobody does, the tracksuit reveals his camouflage shorts. He is a military man. Some passengers are delighted knowing it will be a fair match.
"Na army to army!" A man seated in front informs the rest of the spectators. They throw some missed jabs till a passenger alights informing them of how inappropriate it was for uniformed men to be fighting before civilians. An action movie was nipped in the bud, just like that.
They hurl insults at each other and our driver heads back to the car while we zoom off.
"I will make sure you are disciplined. You are too small to be messing up," our driver promises the defaulting biker.
Our journey proceeds, only to be stopped a few minutes into the time by a boarding passenger. He is holding a bible and humming a hymn.
"Oga, your money!" The driver asks with an air of calmness. The preacher-like man fumbles his pocket to bring out a dirty rumpled hundred naira note.
"This your money no good." The guy seated next to him warns him while also handing the money to the driver.
"Na 150, I call for you. "The driver insists.
"Na wetin I hear, I give you so." He counters.
There is an altercation. Brash words are exchanged but the driver is intent on taking the amount he had mentioned.
"You are a very stupid man but my God will vindicate me," Uncle Preacher man shoots at the driver then the sense of calmness in the bus was lost.
"Pastor wey dey curse person, wehdone sir!" A plump lady seated in the middle row mocked him. The table of decorum had been broken, passengers hurled insults at the man with his bible and I could only but pray their insults don't tear his bible.
The drama gets its denouement, Preacher man pays his due fair and we move forward. It's the final bus stop at CMS and we all alight.
I pop my head in the driver's window, "Oga where my change?" I ask.
"I don give your husband," He says with a gesture pointing to a man wearing a similar Ankara as I was. The man had been my seat partner on the bus and I hardly noticed we were wearing the same fabrics.
"Husband ke?" I ask rhetorically.
Matchmaking might be cool but certainly not on a Friday when I was running late to work. I snatch a two hundred naira in his hand and gave him a heads up - "Go collect your money, no be my husband be that"
I honestly don't like what I hate.
Military Bus 1 Vs Military Bike 0
Bus People 1 Vs Preacher Man 0
Jennie 1 Vs Driver 0