More than one checklist

Last updated on March 8th, 2024 at 09:56 am

I’m on my way to work and cranky. I had woken up earlier thinking whether my decision to be a human was a smart one. After waking up more than three times during the night due to the heat and mosquitoes, crankiness was a no-brainer.

At the bus stop, there’s a long queue for fuel. Are you even a Nigerian if you never hustled for fuel? Our new normal is fuel scarcity. Well, since there’s fuel scarcity, there’s also a hike in the cost of transportation. The sun, unforgiving as usual, melts what’s left of my makeup as I struggle futilely for every bus that stops. My phone says it’s about twenty minutes to resumption. A neck stretch to the traffic at the front tells me that I’m not making it to work in time. Well, there goes the 1k that’ll be deducted from my salary for lateness.

I eventually enter the bus and I’m sweating like a bottle of chilled beer, except that the weather is anything but cool. I bring out my mirror when I think I’m settled in and shake my head at what I see. It’s a disaster—my fake wig lace has lifted, my red lipstick smeared, my eyeliner is the worst; forming a black ring on my eyelids. I’m about to wipe off the now failed sorry attempt at a decent look when we’re all shoved forward in the bus. My bus just hit a private car aka my car.

If we hadn’t just initiated another heavy traffic, I may have been fortunate seeing as the initial traffic flow was easing up. Both drivers come out of their vehicles, the other driver tying her scarf around her waist—not a good sign. 

“Driver, ehn Conductor, abeg come put us for another bus.” One passenger says. 

With my wannabe masquerade look, I get down from the bus flinching at the sudden blast of horn from the vehicles behind ours. I swear I repeated the mantra, “I am strong” seven times this morning, followed by, “I am full of positivity.” Right now, I’m anything but strong as my shoulders sag and I feel my back hunch. I try to stand up straight to show and feel confident, but this is not the time. The other passengers gather around the conductor as he eventually agrees to put us on another bus.

I’m grateful as I sit in another bus and bring out another wipe. I’ve gotten one or two stares, but they didn’t last, this is nothing too crazy. I’m not so lucky though. What is even luck as a Nigerian? There’s a sack of tomatoes behind me and it keeps falling on my back every time the bus stops or jerks. I’ve ignored the smell since I entered, I mean, I have a whole bottle of perfume in my bag because smelling like a pepper or tomato farmer is too much than I want to bear.

“Conductor, this sack dey disturb me.” 

“Aunty manage am, abi na your car you think say you dey?” He replies to me, such a courteous man.  At the same time that he says this, a chubby woman wearing an orange hairnet turns back to eye me. 

I guess she owns the sack of tomatoes.