ON THE WAY TO LAGOS
The day my mom finally agreed to let me spend a part of my school holiday in Lagos was a dream come true for me. At the age of 17 and a 200 level student at the University of Benin, mom still treated me as her little boy. So much that she refused to let me live on campus for fear that I was too young to stay away from home.
However when my aunt and her two children came to spend their Christmas holiday with us that year, she succeeded in convincing mom to let me spend some time with them in Lagos during my next school break. Perhaps my mom wasn't thinking properly or it was the joy of reuniting with her sister that overwhelmed her, I wasn't sure and I couldn't care less either. I was just super excited at the thought of going to Lagos at the same time making sure that she kept her word as the day drew closer.
The night before I traveled, mom sat me down and repeated for the millionth time the long list of instructions that would regulate my behavior during the period of my stay. My mom and dad had separated few years before and being her only child, she gave me all the time in the world, usually more than was necessary.
"Tobi are you listening to me?", she asked shaking me from my thoughts. I told her I was and even though I knew she wasn't convinced, she continued dishing out instructions till I fell asleep.
Before the dawn of the next day, mom had ensured that I was up and ready to travel but because I had a million and one fun things lined up in my head to do in Lagos with my cousins, I didn't notice how sad my mom felt about my trip. The bus was almost filled up by the time I arrived at the park and within twenty minutes, we were on our way from Benin to Lagos after I had said my hurried good byes to mom.
It was my first time of traveling by myself and this was a big deal for me. I would call my aunt as soon as we entered Lagos, then wait for her to come get me at the park. We had everything planned, but then I didn't realize that things hardly ever go as planned, especially when you really want them to.
Somewhere around Owo in Ondo state, our vehicle developed a fault forcing the driver to stop by the road side. Our driver, a stout man in his mid forties immediately went into action amidst the murmuring of some frustrated passengers. About forty minutes later, when it was clear that our driver didn't know what he was doing, ninety percent of the passengers had lost their patience.
"Driver wetin be the meaning of this rubbish na?", an advanced woman queried in pidgin English.
"You people will not service your vehicles properly, even when you know you're traveling thereby putting people's lives at risk. This is the problem of our country", a voice behind me thundered. By this time, most of the passengers had alighted from the bus but because of the scorching early afternoon sun, I chose to remain inside.
"My brother, the problem of this country plenty well well", one of the passengers who had stepped down from the bus replied in pidgin. He was lanky, with bulging eyes, a hawkish nose and an extremely large head which seemed out of place with the rest of his body.
While the other passengers joined in the political debate, I stepped down, in an attempt to find out how much progress the driver had made. And that was when I heard a distant gunshot.
If the driver who was busy with one of the near by mechanics he had called heard anything, he didn't seem to care but something didn't feel right. The road which was busy with vehicles moving to and fro suddenly became quiet. Few seconds later, I saw a bus on high speed coming from the opposite side of the road with the driver waving his free hand in the air.
I immediately alerted our driver but the look on his face spelled trouble.
"E be like say robbers dey road o", he announced and that got everyone's attention. By the time the oncoming bus got closer to us, it was confirmed that there were armed men on the road collecting the properties of their victims because the driver sped past us and shouted the single word "run!"
And we ran. Everyone, young, old, man, woman and even the driver left the vehicle behind. "Where were we running to?", you may wonder and my reply will be that we were all running away from the seeming danger. As we ran, one of the passengers who was ahead spotted a path in the bushes beside the road and took it. Of course we all followed him. In moments like this, it was better to be in a group than by yourself.
We all lay flat on the ground and waited in fear of the unknown. When it became clear that it was safe to come out, we all filed out and returned to the bus to find out that most of our belongings were missing. In our haste, we had left our valuables behind giving chance to roadside thieves.
Luckily for me, my phone and money were in my pocket,but unfortunately my traveling bag was gone. While the affected passengers were grieving over their losses, I found my way to the nearest park and took a bus back to Benin. In my own opinion, the unfolding of events was a sign that my mom was right in thinking that I was still too young to be away from home. And for the records, I didn't step foot in Lagos till I turned twenty two.
