My Craziest Week – Part 3

I wasted a lot of time on this part because it wasn’t a day worth remembering.
Anyway, Friday was scraps. The early parts of the day went well and I will not be saying anything about it.
So, fast forward to about 10 minutes past 5:00pm.
It was an evening of learning life lessons. Lessons that will be with me till the end of my days.

Number 1 Lesson Learnt: Patience is not good, not advisable and not worth it.

Before you slander me for making such a statement, I shall be telling you of my experience and we would see what you think after.
After work, I realized I would have to be going home with public transport, danfo style to be precise.
Before I proceed, I need you to know that the way my upbringing was set up, I was what you’ll refer to as ‘tush’. Unfortunately, along the line, when push came to shove, when the whole game changed, man had to adapt. And so, I began to take public transport. Started out taking it once in a blue moon but when I realized I had to be moving around more, I took it more often that I’d wished to.
Danfo’s are not comfortable; Danfo’s are not safe; Danfo’s are not enjoyable ; Danfo’s are not fun.
Danfo’s are those yellow and black buses that litter Lagos. Those buses whose drivers despise obeying road rules and also hate using their brains.
When it dawned on me that there was no alternative option, I made my way to the bus stop.
On getting there, I saw a large crowd. The first bus was about stopping and I noticed my fellow Nigerians rushing. I thought life was easy and so I walked majestically to the bus. Long story short, I missed that bus, and the next one, and the next one because I was forming calm guy.
I had spent about 30 minutes, waiting and missing every bus that came by. It got annoying. I was angry. And so I purposed to hustle and struggle to enter the next bus.
Well the next one came and I missed it. This happened about 4 times. The thing was, I couldn’t struggle. It was hard. All the other people were stronger and clearly more experienced than me.
After about an hour and thirty minutes, I finally got into a free bus.
Many sweaty and uncomfortable minutes later, the bus stopped at another bus stop where most people came down.
We, that’s the bus driver, conductor, some random lady with smelly hair and lice cos she didn’t stop scratching 😭 and yours truly spent a good 40 minutes waiting for the bus to get filled for the ride to the next bus stop.
A girl hawking fanta walked past the bus and my eyes caught the chilled, slightly frozen fanta.
Three things I can’t reject: Milo, Dodo and Fanta; importance in that order.
I bought the ‘orangest™’ Fanta and stretched across the bus to comfortably enjoy my drink.

Lesson Number 2: Don’t buy frozen Fanta and think you’ll enjoy it.

Unfortunately, that’s when every single person in Nigeria decided it was time to get in that particular bus.
And so sadly, I couldn’t enjoy Fanta with my legs fully stretched.
Anyway, the bus engine roared to life as I adjusted for the whole Nigeria to get in.
When everyone was in, I took a good look at my Fanta and began to imagine the things I was going to do with her. I could tell she was excited.
Long story short, I opened the Fanta bottle and the whole thing poured all over my hands, shirt, trouser, shoes and in the bus. Instead of me to close the bottle since it was spraying everything around it, I left it open so that it could finish it’s nonsense and let me drink.
Slightly expected, everyone on the bus stared at me cos they probably felt I was being stupid. I didn’t understand how however; not until the bus conductor gave me a nice ‘ABARA’.
What is Abara? You guys know the level 99 slap known as Igbati? Imagine that slap but 10 times hotter across ones back. That’s Abara.
The way my body is set up, a slap or punch on my back makes my lungs pack up, inadvertently triggering an asthma attack. This time however, I saw the light cos the animals Abara was seriously hard. I closed the Fanta at the speed of light and my brain reset.
As I fumbled in my bag, for my inhaler, tissue, handkerchief and anything that could help me clean up the mess I had made and prevent my body from feeling weak from the chest issues, the lady next to me leaned on my shoulder and slept off.
First of all, I could feel all the lice in Africa jumping from her hair, trying to see which if them could jump the furthest on me. Second of all, I couldn’t find my inhaler or handkerchief. And finally, this man, dressed in them Cherubim and Seraphim costumes, sitting on my other side smelled like rotten boiled eggs mixed with dead rats. I couldn’t complain cos his face wasn’t encouraging.
Anyway, I spent the unfortunately long, sweaty, smelly, lice-infested, sticky(thanks to the spilled Fanta) and painfully tiring(chest issues) bus ride crying. Mild tears though cos I wasn’t gonna embarrass myself.
I couldn’t sleep cos of the smell, I couldn’t lean back cos of Wonder Lice Woman, I couldn’t drink my Fanta cos of the bus conductor, and I couldn’t touch my phone cos of my sticky, orange hands.
I got home very late and slept immediately in my clothes.
Messy Messy Day