5:22 pm. I’m on the bus to Iyanapaja and couldn’t wait to document this.
It started when I left home at 4:47 pm. I know the time because my, “How’s your days going, gal” alarm went off after I took a few steps from my gate. I was not ready to take it out of my bag because it was in my really heavy backpack and I had another really heavy bad in my hand. So, it kept ringing at intervals till I got to my bus stop and crossed the express. I planned to check the time when I got there, so…
5:32 pm. I had to stop because my bus got to my first stop. Then, I walked to board another bus going to my final destination; home. I’m scared of pressing my phone because I am close to the window, so I’ll continue later.
9:54 pm. I got home a few hours ago. As per my first paragraph. I planned to check the time when I got to the bus stop, so I’ll know how long the walk was. Didn’t do that eventually. Jeez, there’s so much to talk about. I’ll just do this chronologically. Some background first: I was going from my home 1 (my dad’s house) to my home 2 (my rented house). Two buses are needed to make this trip. This background is sufficient for now.
Now, the express. The bus stop at home 1 is an expressway. There is no pedestrian bridge. So, I cross an entire expressway. Not just that, the middle of the express is demarcated. As a result, I have to jump over the slab, which is at least up to my thighs. This is the Nigerian Normal or #NN.
I was at the bus stop for about 7 minutes, declining to enter a few busses, either because they looked uncomfortable or the people in it looked sus. One finally came along. As I was entering, it clicked in my brain that the passengers looked sus. It did not help that they were staring at me too. There were only two spaces in the bus; one each at the back and middle seat. Sigh. I had to go to the back seat. An old woman came in after me. She was to seat directly by the door, but a man asked her to move in, making him the one at the door. I was experiencing dread at this point because I saw a trap. I prayed that if they were really kidnappers or thieves, I would somehow not fall victim. This is some dark shit, I know. It is also the NN. By the way, this is the reason why I did not bring my phone out too.
A few minutes into the journey, the three people seated beside me alighted. A while later, a seat in the middle row was empty. I moved forward ASAP. The old woman couldn’t fully adjust for me because there was a huge tyre on the floor and she could not put her leg on it. I had to wait for the bus to stop and switched places with her. Now, I am seated between one woman and the old woman. I tell “one woman” to adjust because there was barely any space. She refused. She said,
“Why did you move? You should have stayed there”.
Taken aback, I looked straight into her eyes and asked,
“Why should I have stayed there?
She did not say another word till she got down a few minutes later. It’s a NN to leave another person in discomfort just to prove a point or to make yourself comfortable. As Nigerians, we barely tolerate one another. Barely. It is also an NN to be told what you should and should do, even by someone who has no business with you.
Anyway, now, I was pretty sure that the bus and passengers were not sus. This was when I brought my phone out and started writing this article. Oh, yea, the huge tyre under the seat is an NN too. So, I just went with it.
It’s now 10:37 pm. I fell asleep. I’ll continue tomorrow.
March 21, 5:32 am. As we approached my first stop, the driver suddenly veered to a BRT lane (designated only for state buses). He suddenly accelerated and almost hit a bike man. This and the loud cries of passengers did not stop him. Sigh, it’s an NN. it is also an NN to be “smart” and “fast” while stepping (or jumping down) from a slightly moving bus. I conformed to society’s rule by wearing my backpack in front and rushing to the exit. The bus was still moving; it is a Nigerian normal.
The old woman also stopped. I helped her cross the express and received some old people’s repeated thanks in return. Cute.
I make my way to the park (more like a line-up of buses) to board the next one to my last stop. I saw some dodo Ikire (plantain cooked in an interesting way) and purchased two. I paid ₦500 and collected ₦300 change. It was the exact amount for the next bus, or is it? The fare was ₦500. Almost 100% the original price. Understanding that it was a Nigerian thing to experience unexplained change, I did some mental grumble and oneof the buses. There was no point arguing or complaining. Sadly, the dodo Ikire did not taste good. That is definitely not a Nigerian thing. Sigh.
Lucky for me, the front seat was free. I guess I should say “front SEATS”. An extra seat had been forcefully placed between the diver’s and passenger’s seat. That seat is famous for being hot because I guess it’s on the engine? It’s a Nigerian Normal. I was happy to seat in the front because that meant I would not be packed into one of the the seats at the back with so much heat and anger.
There are interesting moments, though. I saw a really pretty woman with a star tattoo, a strapless yellow flowing ankara gown, and a rectangle earring. She glowed, I saw another woman with earrings shaped like a continent? I guess the manufacturers were going for Africa. It was not quite right, but still looked good.
Hawkers passed by my bus, advertising their good. The trick is to both avoid eye contact and to keep your hands out of your bag. The former would be interpreted as you trying to get their attention. If you do the latter, you are trying to bring some money out. This beckons them. It’s a Nigerian interesting Normal.
Anyway, while at the park/line, more people joined the bus. I had to keep my phone in my bag to avoid it being snatched. As we moved along the freeway, I felt more comfortable using it. Although, I had to take caution to hide it with my bag. People are cray cray.
To be honest, the events surrounding transportation are Nigerian Normals that I can’t wrap my head around. How is it okay for me to jump out of a moving bus, else I’ll be considered dumb? Why do I need to analyse a bus for suspicious acts before entering? WHY do I need to cross a very dangerous expressway when a pedestrian bridge can be provided? Let me not even talk about the road and the manoeuvring tricks our drivers perform. It’s a Nigerian Normal to mentally prepare yourself for any kind of journey.
I’m sick of it. I also don’t know what to do about it. I’m sick of that too.
This is 500 words (or more ?)! Talk to you tomorrow!