The Curious Case of Tife on A Tuesday

Sitting in a Lagos Danfo is typically not your usual jolly ride, especially not at 6am on the ever-busy Ikorodu road. But when you’ve been nearly molested at the bus-stop while hustling for Danfo, the smells and stress of traffic don’t gross you out all that much. You’re just grateful that you’re one second closer to the office.

Tife had no idea her day would turn out like this. Her morning had begun with the usual ‘Alarm vs Human’ war. Nothing unusual there. She’d gone on to grope her way around the bathroom, thanks to the ‘Power Holders’ and fuel scarcity palaver that did not even make her think of getting fuel for the Generator

{How am I supposed to join a crazy scramble for fuel after returning from work earliest 9pm?!}.

After dragging herself here and there, she even managed to set out by just 15 minutes after her usual ‘4:30’.

The first annoyance was her Okada man. Her apartment, located deep in the interiors of Ikorodu was accessible to commercial vehicles only between the hours of 6am and 7pm. It was one of those wanna-be estates

{okay, the ‘owners’ call it an estate but me, I don’t see much sense in it. Untarred, dusty roads? Irregular power & water supply? Security provided by a group of Hausa mai-guards? And they still call it an estate? Na so!}.

This particular Okada man was just 2 days into the job

{I change them every week. Before sumborry wee now get too familiar and bring ‘visitors’ to my house. You know what I mean abi?}.

The arrangement worked this way. She would speak to a particular okada rider and agree on the time for him to pick her up from her place everyday. She would then have to formally introduce the okada man to the Head security mai-guard at the street gate. Anything other than this and the okada man would not be allowed entrance. Yesterday, the man had been on time, got there 4:30 sharp. Not today though. She had been worried that her sluggishness would be the delay, but when it was 4:35am and he was yet to call her, anger started to creep in. It was 10 minutes more of fuming and unanswered calls before he showed up “Aunty, no vex. Na because I go beg for fuel”. 

All Tife cared about was getting to the bus-stop on time; she could deal with the man later.

A few minutes to 5am and the bus park was already bustling. Nothing new there. Peeps in Lagos don’t sleep. But the scarcity of vehicles, that was the second annoyance. How was she supposed to successfully compete for a bus with all these ‘Hulk Hogans’ now? And at that perfectly rowdy place, one perfectly silly dude chose to tell her “Hanty, yhu her lukhin fain dhis mohrnihng”.

On a normal day, she would have ignored, would have acted like he was speaking to the air. But not this morning. This morning she was angry…and already tired!

“Are you mad?! Or are you trying to be mad?!” her raised index finger drawing circles at the side of her head in that oh-so-familiar gesture.

“Ahn Ahn! Bayhbhy. Mi o ba t’ija wa now” he replied, with a VERY VERY silly smile on his face (which just served to irritate Tife more, obviously).

“Mr.Man, who’s your baby? Please just go. Abeg”. She didn’t even bother facing him. She just moved forward, more concerned about getting a bus.

Not until she heard his ‘monologue’ did she realize he had followed her.

“Hall dhiz Lagos girhlz. Sihmpul hinglish his tooh hard forh dehm”, he hissed “Vehry prouhd hall hof dehm”

She simply moved again, all the while trying (and failing) to secure a bus. By this time, she was HIGHLY agitated. It wasn’t enough that she was probably going to be late, she had to endure harassment early Tuesday morning too!

{Gosh! I can’t deal. It’s way too early in the week to be facing all these nonsense jare. I just pray this doesn’t jinx my week!}.

Mr. Silly was still stalking her. She was now scared. She tightened her grip on the handbag clutched at her side.

Would he rob her with this many people around? But then again, a quick look at the crowd confirmed that yes, he could if he wanted to. Nobody around really had eyes for the other person. Sure, some folks seemed to sense something was wrong but they just spared a few glances at most, and moved on. They too couldn’t wait to get to their offices and businesses. And who doesn’t know that yes we’re in Lagos, but we’re really O.Y.O On Your Own.

“Hanty, shebi his yhou haf…”

She didn’t let him finish. Fear, frustration, irritation and anger spoke at once. Take that back… Yelled at once,

“I will kill you, I swear! Are you cursed or something? I said leave me alone and you keep following me. Are you being followed from your village? Did they send you to me this morning ni? Gosh! Killing me with your terrible H-factor, are you CURSED?!”

Tife had attracted a small crowd of on-lookers. The silly dude still looked like he was about to say something in reply though. He was even moving slightly closer, as though he meant to hurt her. She sharply reached into her bag,

“I swear to God, I’ll bring out the knife in my bag and stab you!”

{Nail file sef can do like knife abeg}

“No dear. You really don’t want to do that” came a soothing voice behind her. Then she felt his hands rest lightly on the hand she’d put into her bag.

“Please. Just ignore him and walk away” he pleaded

“But I’ve been doing that. I’ve moved away more than 4 times and the idiot keeps following me” she fumed.

People now joined in:

“Ashewo! Konji dey do you dis early mor mor…”

“He may have a wife and children at home o!”

“Some men are just so terrible! Useless man”

“Aunty please don’t be angry jare”

“Demonic time-wasters. God will punish him!”

Mr.Silly was now thoroughly mortified. He’d obviously bitten more than he could chew. All he could do was mumble some words as he tried to move as far away from the scene as possible.

Tife turned to thank the man who held her hand ever so gently,

“I appreciate it. Thanks so much. I still don’t know what it is about today. That guy was just the last straw!”

He smiled. “I understand. Some days can just be really off”

“Don’t worry, just keep rejoicing in God” he finished

It was then she noticed the church wristband and the neat dressing and the Christian magazine in hand. Oh well, God bless the kind brother. Even his smile was comforting, and he had succeeded in calming her nerves.

“What bus are you waiting for? Maybe I can help you?”

“Oh” she was surprised he still wanted to help some more “I can’t trouble you anymore than I’ve already done. You’ve really been of help already”

“Haba. It’s nothing. I can always…”

Just then,

“Eko Idumota CMS, wole pelu change e o!”

And they both rushed for it. Somewhere in the rush, Mr. Kind brother made some space for her with his elbow.

“Imagine! You saved me eventually. How can I repay you?” she gushed, all smiles

“It’s nothing ma’am. To God be the glory”

Such a nice guy, she thought, and godly too

“You don’t know how grateful I am. God bless you”

“Amen, and you too”

Tife couldn’t help it. She was so tired she rested her head on the seat in front. She had no idea she had drifted off into sleep until she felt somehow uncomfortable. She couldn’t really place what it was; she just knew she felt kinda creepy. She was the first on their second row seat so there was nobody to her right. Mr. Kind brother was on her left, lost in the world of whatever was on the other side of his earpiece. Before she knew it, she drifted off again. And woke up feeling creeped out. She looked around and saw nothing out of place. 

She went back to putting her head on the seat, but this time she did not sleep. She was beginning to think it was just a residue of the morning’s events {Mr.Silly especially} that was taking its toll on her. She told herself to relax as much as she could in the traffic before facing the day’s tasks. She was almost dozing off again when she felt it.

The gentle hand. The same hand that had comforted her few minutes ago was surreptitiously making its way to her right breast. The woolen blouse she wore dulled the impact of the hand caressing her breast but she felt it quite alright. She used a little side-eye from her head-bent position, and sure enough, it was Mr.Kind brother alright.

She still wanted to doubt. How could it be? Brother of God ke? She moved away slightly, as though still in sleep. And Mr.Kind brother followed. Then she raised her head, eyes wide open. The speed and ease with which he withdrew his hand and kept a straight face ehn!? If she’d not been outraged, she would have given him a round of applause for his expertise. 

As it was, she pinned him with a burning stare. He was forced to turn to her with a ‘bewildered’ gaze. But before he could finish his pretentious “What?”, Tife’s right palm {in eye-blinding, mind-numbing, kasala-bursting RAGE} had made contact with his fine left cheek.