Skip to main content

SHADES OF KINDNESS






 SHADES OF KINDNESS
That woman. One would have called her a bully with such body structure. You could tell she hailed from the Niger Delta region, she had the speech swag called WAFFI. She had one of the biggest behinds I’ve ever seen and an understanding heart. Her voice was raucous but her laughter truthful. When I got on the bus, the first voice I heard came from her: “Sister you get change? Driver go para if you no get o abeg sidon if change dey your hand.” And this was her job as long I remained in the bus. She would gather moneys, give changes, direct incoming passengers on where to sit, making sure she was not inconvenienced. “Sister you know as e dey na, dis place too tight so make we three (instead of four passengers) just manage dey go like that until no space again for bus before we allow anybody sidon here.” Sitting side by side, we both laughed.
Half way through the journey the driver was provoked by a teenage boy who hung on the boot of the bus trying to evade payment. Driver stops the bus, chases after the teenager; reigning curses, deaf to the pleas of his passengers. Seconds later he returns to the bus:
“na so dis small pikins dem go dey tamo bus up and down. One die which day for Onikpan after the driver hold brake and e nak im head for the back of the moto. Dis one now wan put me for igbese abi. Olori buruku omo…”
Woman: “Driver calm down fess. You for ass were im dey go. Maybe e no get the money to pay na im make e do wetin e do. Na night we dey so abeg try reach am for front make you carry am. E fit be your pikin.”
Out of all the commentators, she was the only one who spoke considerately on behalf of the teenage boy who had raced forward after he was chased by the driver. This woman, her convincing power was out of bounds. The driver somehow hearkened unto her voice and drove to catch up with the boy. He was going to Maryland but had no money for his bus fare. Woman told him to enter and ask nicely next time instead of performing such dangerous act. I looked around me and noticed that many of us had lost love for one another. We were all ready to abandon that boy on the road at that time of the night because we felt his actions were greater than his safety, because we relished in reproach than assistance. I learned and unlearned that minute.
A man going to Oyingbo was about to enter our bus going to Yaba but the driver snapped at him: “I no call Oyingbo na Yaba I call for you. Where you go see Oyingbo for here? Nonsense!” He drove off.
Woman: “driver why na? That man no know say you go first reach Yaba then take Oyingbo na. Wetin you for just explain give am na im you vex go like that…”
We were at this point silent in the bus as we were all guilty of criticizing rather than giving a helping hand. Many of us had laughed at the man, calling him a novice, JJC. I learned and unlearned again.
When I finally got to my bus stop, I waved at the woman; although she never waved back for her only flaw was how quickly she wanted the driver to go so she could get to her destination on time as she had complained that the journey had been terribly slow for her liking… I continued home listening to her voice fading into the distance as the bus drove off… “Driver carry go na you want make we sleep for here? No forget say you still owe me hundred naira change sha…”

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

MAKEOVER

  When she realized her hair was gone, the barber had increased the volume of his radio and India Arie’s ‘I am not my hair’ filled the room. ‘If I can manage the situation like a professional, my construction contract with her father will hold tomorrow,’ I thought. I breathe in and out, a logic that never works for me, but I do it anyway. I rehearse my words, changing each sound to a softer version of the previous one - aligning my looks to the words so that my eyes become half closed and there is a faint smile on my face. I wait for the explosion. All the while, the barber is busy touching what is left on her head with his clipper. He says it is the final addition and calls it the moon look. He fumbles with the chair, turning Stella from left to right like a child’s play. The large mirror in front of us escalates the mishap and the fumes on my girlfriend’s face seem to be burning the white walls. It was meant to be a makeover since her 25 th birthday was the next day. Now it...

WHEN IT RAINS IT POURS

In those days, when it rained we would stay by the window and watch how the trees danced to the beats of the wind, the singing of raindrops and thunder. The lighter the music, the closer our legs would get to the door post, quietly watching the eyes of our mother; and waiting for an approval. When she wiggled her legs, it was a negative signal. But when she praised the beautiful works of God in the rainy moment, it was a positive sign. Note, there was no going outside when it rained in the night. That was why Joseph composed the song: Rain visit us when the sun is not old Rain sing for us when the moon is not young So that mother will open the door for us to play with you So that papa will come home dry and happy. Rain visit us as we sing to you. Rain oh rain oh rain. That particular day, the rain was deaf to our singing, or calling and yelling. We became frustrated because the sun was kissing the lines of the sea, workers were returning home while livestock owners were gathering their...

WHEN WE ARE OLD

  I heard them laughing, pointing at different buildings at each bus stop. Some were tall, old, and short buildings but they had something in common. They were whitewashed. The daughter talked more than her mother. She even laughed out loud sometimes as if they were the only passengers onboard. They occupied the first two seats on the deck of the bus and could see the clouds moving slowly even better than the driver. The daughter pointed to a small house and said to her mother:  “Ma, do you remember Auntie Debbie? She used to live in a tiny house just like that. Ha-ha! It was too small to even accommodate our cat when I was 7, remember?” “Yes, I remember darling. But you’re all grown up, tired of kitty. She is all mine now.” They both smiled and then the daughter mumbled something, and it turned into a wild laugh, as if something went awry in their heads. My mother will not laugh with me like this. Never! I thought. In fact, I dared not laugh at anyone’s house - big or small. ...