I’m sitting on this bus mad as hell. Wet and mad. No one should visit Eko market without checking the weather report and that was the mistake my mother and I made and we paid dearly for it. Well I mostly did. When my mother was done with me she just entered her car and told me to find my level. All my friends I called suddenly dropped their phones at impossible to reach places and  the rain was seriously teaching my umbrella and I a lesson. That was when I opted for the BRT bus.

Getting there was another hassle as it was a fifteen minutes walk and Lagosians don’t even care. They will see you struggling and ask to join you. It took the grace of God not to ask the woman who asked to share my umbrella with me if she wasn’t blind to the realization that there was no difference between me with an umbrella and she without one. I’m feeling like crap. My shoes are soaked. My hair smells like crap but I’m happy that I’m finally in the bus and I can sleep but the different people in this bus won’t let me.

There’s the uncle with the sunglasses in this rain who’s coming back from his NYSC work judging from his attire.

The aunty who’s overdressed and face baked for a BRT bus. Her bleached skin and jewelries tell many stories of a woman jilted and just looking for some type of sugar daddy to help with her monthly allowance.

The four Igbo sisters who won’t let the rest of the people in the bus hear word. They have clearly finished selling from the market and will now return home to the husbands and boyfriends and children.

The shop boy who is returning from helping his Oga buy some wares from the Lagos market because they had run out.

The baba who is just clearly frustrated and has forgotten that the bus checkers tear your ticket after you enter the bus so when the poor woman comes to ask for his ticket so as to tear it, he lands her a resounding slap for ‘talking to a whole titled man’.

There’s the man who is  talking about the Nigerian economy to any one who cares to listen and chanting ‘In the days of Babangida, in the days of Tai Solarin’.

There are the two young girls who sound like they have just been to Lagos. Everything seems to fascinate them. The billboard of wizkid advertising  Pepsi, Reggae Blues by Harrysongs playing on the radio even though the song is older than a year.

Then there’s me, the wet, angry and tired girl who wouldn’t give up Lagos for anything in the world. The one who is comfortable in all the chaos and lawlessness that is Lagos but who would rather be anywhere but here right now.

Gotta love Nigeria.

Have you met any of them? Which one(s)?

No more articles