The story so far

Earlier today...

Sandwiched between our potbellied driver in a shirt badly in need of two, three say four-five complete wash cycles and a younger man who was ah, somewhat physically fit and give or take endowed, I was engulfed in a wave of nostalgia so strong I could perceive the scents of memories past.  

Although I did not quite get a good look at the face of the younger man, I knew he was fit because as we rode the motorbike fondly called “Okada” in my area, every time the bike rider pushed his brakes to avoid a bump or speeding headfirst into the bumper of a bigger vehicle, I was pushed into his rather nice, welcoming chest by one of Newton’s laws of gravity. 

Come to think of it, I think we shared a moment, because when I finally got to my stop, he hesitated a bit and actually told me good-bye.

Young love? Sigh.

Abu Dhabi

First impressions count, theirs on me? 

Not so good.  

I lost a waist belt that some how managed to remain with me through thick and thin until UAE. 

Despite the fact that said belt was “borrowed” it still smarts that after happily telling me to take it off before walking through the scanner machine ‘thingy’, they failed to tell me it had dropped while I struggled to grab the rest of my bags. 

When I realized I lost it, I made an attempt to retrace my steps but abandoned my quest after I tried to explain my predicament to a uniformed man and was asked instead to step aside and produce my travel documents.

I was like huh? 

The next episode occurred when some interesting team members of Burger king used sleight of hand to make my paid for bottle of water disappear from my tray and feigned not to understand my accent when I demanded to get what I paid for.

When finally I was told to “Please get decent.” by a male flight attendant because I happened to be carrying breasts beneath a to-the-neck T-shirt and an all-other-upper-body-parts-covering leather jacket. I half expected to be escorted away and stoned to death for being shameless.

To sum it up, the experience was ‘bleh’.

MMM

I have not bothered to check if MMM stands for anything or if it was used because the inventor had a fondness for M&M’s and couldn't use the name but, I may or may not have lost a dear friend because of the whole MMM palaver.

X swore never to talk to me again because the freedom to choose to be with her was taken away from me by another person who went a step further than her by sourcing for my details and depositing money into my account and having his way with me after I had turned down several of her (and other peoples) offers to “come under” (is it just me or does the whole MMM lingo sound sexual?).

Aside from that, for the past weeks every other thing I hear is MMM this or that it is like a secret society of sorts, you are either in, out or a square for not respecting the hustle.

Call me ignorant or clueless but I couldn’t stop myself from laughing when I came across a ‘subscriber’ huddled in a corner making calls to remind ‘paired partners’ that they were due to make payments in a couple of hours.

The thought that someone might have the audacity to call me by 11:30 pm and probably wake me up after a long traffic, dust and noise polluted day to pay N2000 into his/her account is enough to put me off.

Pedestrian Bridge, Ojota

I committed an offence and felt really bad. I needed to confess to anybody so I could do my time and move on. 

I mean, how can I say I lead the  change I want to see when I allowed myself to be pushed into doing what I wasn’t comfortable with.

So, I called sister dear.

I was on for about five minutes talking about how I was sorry,  how I was careless and my fear of dropping the soap in jail when she was like wait first, are you talking about road for driving or flyover? 

She found it difficult to understand how it was possible to use one way on an overpass/pedestrian bridge or flyover as PH people refer to it. 

So, I took pains to explain to her that for some reason I don’t know, in a bid to protect life and property, restrictions were put around Ojota bus stop on the Ikorodu express road to stop people from running like headless chickens across the motorway and rather force them to squeeze their way across a below capacity pedestrian bridge because it is better for one person to get mugged, trampled or contact skin disease (and spread to a dozen more …Ebola anyone?) than to properly plan an alternate route for movement before enforcing “law and order”.

Out of courtesy or concern, a metal partition was constructed within the narrow bridge with up and down clearly labeled to ease traffic.

While school children and people in uniform are allowed to go either way (one way) it is an offence for anyone else to walk freely.

I accept responsibility for my actions and it would not happen again but the question is, at what cost?

What next?

There is Jumia and their dismal customer/client service that have decided to take my order to ransom, there is the story of recession and how it affects weather conditions and my new favorite word "Kolework" but that is gist for another day. Until "that other day", e go be later!

Cheers!