I hope you are doing great. It's been a short while, school-work! Today, I have an interesting story written by the talented doctor and writer - 'ucsmile' who still chooses to remain anonymous.
Please leave your comments behind and share with your friends. Thank you. Enjoy:
It happened on a Good Friday, and I didn't go to church that day. I was rushing to get back to Ajah from Badagry and was feeling very awkward standing on the road and flagging down cars after a long while. It stemmed from a bad decision to leave my car back in Lagos and I was now paying for it.
One of the cars pulled over and the driver asked, "Mile 2?" I was quick to reply in the affirmative; luck doesn't shine on you twice!
"Mile 2 #250" he said, in their typical way of asking for more. "#200", I replied, and he opened the door for me to enter.
As I entered the car, I felt uneasy. Normal taxi drivers would have insisted on that fare. I quickly assessed the situation. The driver had red shot eyes and the driving mirror had a rosary hanging from it. There was just a single passenger sitting behind me, while I was on the passenger seat. That means that the driver should be looking for more passengers but he wasn't enthusiastic in his search for more passengers. He sped past waiting passengers, making half hearted attempts at picking them. At some point, he stopped for a man and the whole drama of haggling was repeated with him settling for #200 again and the passenger entered.
At this point, I put my hand into my pocket and brought out my rosary which was never far from my side. That singular action made the driver cast a sharp look at me which I pretended not to notice. I kept a calm exterior while the inside was riotous. Stories of assualt and robbery along that route kept going through my head. Even at that, I didn't stop praying the rosary; I knew it was only God that could save me from the situation.
As we approached Ibereku Barracks, he hesitated a bit, and then drove on to some short distance and suddenly stopped the car.
"Oga were you tell me say you dey stop? No be Ibereku barracks?", the Driver asked in pidgin English.
The first paasenger replied, "Na Ibereku barracks. We don reach?"
"Na im we just pass o!"
"Ahh! I tell you say I no know the place. You for tell me on time. Make I come down. Open your boot make I take my bag."
At this point, I heaved a sigh of relief. Maybe I was being paranoid after all. But my relief was shortlived.
"Oga, you get bag for inside my boot?", the driver asked again.
"Oga, you bin dey this car when those women dey come down and I dey ask who get the bag and you no talk. Wetin dey inside the bag?"
"Na just my clothes and personal effects."
"Oga, no be you get the bag. Make you enter the car back."
As he got into the car, the driver moved off again at a low speed and at the same time, ...into a narrative directed at me.
"Bros see e, I carry this man with some women all the way from Seme. E no tell me wetin im carry. As the women dey come down for Badagry, one of their zips come hook im bag, and the bag open. Na so so dollar and foreign currency wey full the bag!" Oga tell me, how you get the money? Tell me the truth!"
At that moment, one thing was on my mind: How do I get down from this car?! The new passenger was nodding vigorously and was very eager to make his own contribution to the conversation. I had just confirmed my worst fears: they were all in this together!
The 'accused' stuttered, "Okay. I go talk true. Alhaji go Mecca, leave im wife. Im wife come die. I come carry all the gold and money waka. Abeg, make una no report me."
"Oga, we go carry you go our park. Na there we go talk waiting we go do you".
Park? This was the moment they were all waiting for; the moment I will choose to either go along with them, or drop. I wasn't interested in knowing what would become of the "dollars". All I was interested in was getting out of the car as fast as possible!
I spoke up, "Please, can I drop here?"
And he stopped the vehicle, and I, clutching my rosary tightly, scampered down. They zoomed off immediately, probably to look for the next greedy prey.
This time around, I waited for a yellow painted city bus and flagged it down.
"Mile 2 #200."
And with relief, I hopped in quickly!
Thank you for reading, please share your experiences in the comment section. I hope you enjoyed the story as much as I did; I always laugh when I hear about these "one chance" stories. Fortunately I have never encountered any. I hear they are a lot in Abuja and Lagos so please always be careful wherever you stay. Have a great week. Cheers!
Twitter @vivio_cao . Instagram: Ugochiukah