E K E T I Profile picture
Jun 22, 2018 27 tweets 7 min read Twitter logo Read on Twitter
Ah, there’s nothing I won’t see in public vehicles in this country. Everywhere I turn, I’m not safe from #CabDrama

That’s how I boarded one cab; we were three at the back and one man sat in front. Then the driver stopped to pick up a plus-size woman.
Of course we grumbled—those of us at the back. I'd gone out with little cash, so I couldn’t afford to pay for two seats.

The woman tried to squeeze herself inside. Ko le werk. The tout outside who was trying to shut the door couldn’t.
That’s how the fellow sitting closest to the lady said,

“Madam, since you know that you’re fat like this, you should pay for two seats.”

Hay God!

Everywhere in the car was suddenly quiet. The driver looked back to say something to diffuse the situation.
The plus-size woman gave this guy a hard glare and without warning, threw her body on the man. Like, her entire weight. The man started gasping.

“Ma….ma….damm…wha….what’s this? Ma….dam….driver…help me. She’s kill…ing…me.”
Me? I was laughing like a well-fed hyena.

It took everyone minus me, begging, before the woman got up off him.

Something similar happened yesterday.
I was at the bus stop, waiting for a cab heading to my destination. Not long after, an almost empty one came by and I got in. Two men and me at the back, one man in front.

The driver said something in Hausa to the tout and gave him twenty naira—the fee for loading at that stop.
That done, he stepped on the accelerator and the car jerked as we sped off.

For the next five minutes, the ride went on as expected, and I stared out the side window at uninteresting scenery punctuated by shifting crowds at the pedestrian and overhead bridges.
Until we got somewhere close to Gwarimpa.

An SUV came out of a side street on the right, a woman was at the wheel and three children behind.

Her indicator was flashing appropriately as she tried to ease into the expressway. She had the right of way.
You’d think that our driver would slow down and let her go before us, right?

For some reason, he had no intention of slowing down. Instead, he swerved sharply to the left in a bid to get ahead.

The SUV on the other hand, was still turning into the road as was her right.
This meant that our driver had to swerve some more, bringing the car to the verge of the drainage gutter that divides the expressway.

He finally stopped and the woman drove off without so much as a side glance.
“Ashawo!” the driver shouted at the woman, extending his hand outside the window with his five fingers spread out in a heartfelt waka.
Instantly, I felt the anger rise in my belly. Of course, I thought. Call her a whore because you didn’t have your way.

As I opened my mouth to issue a reprimand, the male passenger in front spoke first.

“Driver, what did you just say?”
“That woman….na real ashawo she be!” the driver repeated, anger and disgust stamped on his face.

“Why she no wait make I pass? Na so dem dey do. All these women wey no fit drive.

Common to wait for me to pass, she no fit. Na so she go dey challenge her husband for house.”
The hianity!

Again, I tried to speak but Mr Man-in-Front beat me to it.

What happened next, nobody saw it coming.

He reached down between the driver’s seat and his, released the clasp on his seatbelt, adjusted himself so he was facing the driver and without warning.....
…gave him a hard slap across the face.




Everyone simultaneously exclaimed. Me, gaskiya, my mouth fell open and my eyes went wide enough for my eyeballs to fall out.

Blinded for a moment, the driver stepped sharply on the brakes.
Thankfully, no other car was close behind.

Stunned, he turned to stare at the man. Then he drove to the side of the road and parked.

“You slap me?” he asked in wonder, when his voice returned.

“You’re a very STUPID man!” Man-in-Front screamed. "Why would you call her ashawo?
Are you mad?”

“Na you dey mad!” the driver shouted back. “I will kill you! You slap me? I go kill you!”

“You think I’m afraid of that small dagger you’re carrying? I will teach you a lesson today. Just try any nonsense.”
Furious, the driver turned off the ignition, ripped the key out of the hole and opened the door. So did the Man-in-Front.

Now, the driver was tall, say 5’9 and looked like he could hold his own in a brawl; Mr Man-in-Front on the other hand appeared to be no taller than 5’3....
...and was quite slender. But the energy with which he bounded around the car to face off the driver said something about him.

I quickly opened the door and joined them. Me, miss this free show? Chukwu ekwekwala ihe ojoo! God forbid!

The other passengers came out too.
The driver raised his hand to beat Mr Man-in-Front.

Before his hand could connect, Man-in-Front reached up and delivered another tight slap. Then two quick jabs to the stomach. These blows were punctuated with…

“By the time I finish with you”…slap…
“...you will never abuse a woman again…," Punch.

The driver doubled over at the blows to his stomach.

“Kneel down!” Mr Man-in-Front thundered. “I say kneel down!”

Now, I don’t know if it was the shock of this diminutive man dishing out such an audacious order....
....or the fear that he may be someone in a place of influence, but the driver complied.

Trust Nigerians; people quickly gathered and all of us were staring in wonder.

Me, I sat down on a cement road divider and was laughing my head off.
Some drivers, both public and private, parked and alighted from their cars.

“Oga what happened?”

“Oga no beat am again.”

“Wetin dey happen nah?”

“Tell them!” Man-in-Front shouted at the driver. “Tell them what you said.”
Each time the driver said, “I call one madam ashawo,” Man-in-Front dished out a slap the second he said the word, “ashawo.”

“You say you call am wetin?”

“I call one madam asha…”

“You called someone’s mother ashawo? Someone’s wife? Would you call your mother ashawo?” asked one man, adding his own slap.

I stopped laughing to glance at my watch.
Ewoo! I was late for my appointment. I really wanted to stay and watch the slap fest till the end.
So, I ended the viewing of the free #CabDrama show, hailed another cab and left.

Buy me a car, you people will not hear. You want me to be entering these public vehicles and bringing you people gist.
Let ‘one chance’ people not mistakenly think one day that I have kidnap value o
The End.

I hope you guys have a terrific weekend. Let me go and start chewing ice block while I watch this Nigeria vs Iceland game.

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Oct 4, 2018
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If you're a parent and this has happened to you, say Aye.

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This are the stories of Fire 1 and 2.

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I once watched a bride stop cold on the steps of a church & say, "This is more than cold feet. I can't marry him."

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Doing the right thing. It's hard, it hurts, but it must be done.
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Or do what we really need to do. Many of us studied or are still studying courses our parents picked out. Or working jobs we hate do S to please family/society.

Because we couldn't stand the heat th at came with making the hard decisions.
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