"Enter make we dey go, na one chance remain" The driver with the yellow stained teeth said to me.
Our eyes met when I asked the driver how much for the bus fare. You were the lone passenger in the front seat, and as I quickly dashed to join you in front, an unusual feeling of joy enveloped me. You refused to move inside towards the driver's side; but the smile on your face disarmed me and I would have sat on the open roof just for that smile.
"Oga driver I go start this motor and leave without you o" I shouted out of the bus after sitting for a while.
You laughed heartily, snorting loudly at my driving joke, and the white impeccable sets of teeth that you flaunted, were white as cloud.
"Abi nao, person dey roast here like overripe boli" I said, pressing to score another laugh from you. You laughed again, punctuating each laugh with a sweet tap of my shoulder.
Then with an angelic sweet voice you replied me "Don't mind all these drivers my dear, that's how they do; I just pray he has not gone to take alcohol".
Did you really call me your dear? Is my brain processing this correctly? Did you just use a word of endearment for me, a total Stranger?
My aura must be strong.
"My name is Benson" I said without any thought. Beaming with smile like a bride before her groom
"Mine is Elizabeth" you said tapping my arm again. The volt of current passing through me with each touch could power the whole of Oshodi.
Wow did I just get a jackpot? I am going to ask for your number before this trip elapse. I have always fantasized and imagined many scenario about meeting a sweet girl on a bus, but this is the universe providing the perfect scenario for me.
I paid for your bus fare, hoping it will give me a soft landing when I ask for your phone number. You were very grateful and more grateful when I bought you a bottle of fanta as I thought you were thirsty; Or why would you be staring at the girl selling the drinks? Anyway, I needed you to know I am man enough to take care of you when I eventually pop the question.
You are such an angel, laughing and contributing to every jab I landed on the driver about the state of his rickety bus. A bus that I nonetheless will be grateful to for being our chariot of love and bringing you to me.
As our bus approach the final bus stop, I prepared mentally to ask for the number; that will ensure that this sweet relationship and understanding continues.
With every step I made to retrieve my luggage from the bus boot, I rehearsed my speech for the umpteenth time and walked towards you, my Queen Elizabeth.
"Mummy Mummy" a little boy screamed and dashed right past me straight into your arms; a huge guy also gave you a full hug and pecked your soft cheeks. Oh the world became dark that moment and no man was ever confused as I was in that instance.
As I turned my back I heard you saying something like "Baby I miss you and Junior so much"
The sun hit me hard as if telling me I was a fool for using my bike fare to buy Fanta and pay bus fare for another man's wife. I backed my backpack and continued my trekking down the dusty 3 kilometers to my father's house.
Written by Sẹ́gun Nomolos Lóngẹ - Nigeria
Our eyes met when I asked the driver how much for the bus fare. You were the lone passenger in the front seat, and as I quickly dashed to join you in front, an unusual feeling of joy enveloped me. You refused to move inside towards the driver's side; but the smile on your face disarmed me and I would have sat on the open roof just for that smile.
"Oga driver I go start this motor and leave without you o" I shouted out of the bus after sitting for a while.
You laughed heartily, snorting loudly at my driving joke, and the white impeccable sets of teeth that you flaunted, were white as cloud.
"Abi nao, person dey roast here like overripe boli" I said, pressing to score another laugh from you. You laughed again, punctuating each laugh with a sweet tap of my shoulder.
Then with an angelic sweet voice you replied me "Don't mind all these drivers my dear, that's how they do; I just pray he has not gone to take alcohol".
Did you really call me your dear? Is my brain processing this correctly? Did you just use a word of endearment for me, a total Stranger?
My aura must be strong.
"My name is Benson" I said without any thought. Beaming with smile like a bride before her groom
"Mine is Elizabeth" you said tapping my arm again. The volt of current passing through me with each touch could power the whole of Oshodi.
Wow did I just get a jackpot? I am going to ask for your number before this trip elapse. I have always fantasized and imagined many scenario about meeting a sweet girl on a bus, but this is the universe providing the perfect scenario for me.
I paid for your bus fare, hoping it will give me a soft landing when I ask for your phone number. You were very grateful and more grateful when I bought you a bottle of fanta as I thought you were thirsty; Or why would you be staring at the girl selling the drinks? Anyway, I needed you to know I am man enough to take care of you when I eventually pop the question.
You are such an angel, laughing and contributing to every jab I landed on the driver about the state of his rickety bus. A bus that I nonetheless will be grateful to for being our chariot of love and bringing you to me.
As our bus approach the final bus stop, I prepared mentally to ask for the number; that will ensure that this sweet relationship and understanding continues.
With every step I made to retrieve my luggage from the bus boot, I rehearsed my speech for the umpteenth time and walked towards you, my Queen Elizabeth.
"Mummy Mummy" a little boy screamed and dashed right past me straight into your arms; a huge guy also gave you a full hug and pecked your soft cheeks. Oh the world became dark that moment and no man was ever confused as I was in that instance.
As I turned my back I heard you saying something like "Baby I miss you and Junior so much"
The sun hit me hard as if telling me I was a fool for using my bike fare to buy Fanta and pay bus fare for another man's wife. I backed my backpack and continued my trekking down the dusty 3 kilometers to my father's house.
Written by Sẹ́gun Nomolos Lóngẹ - Nigeria
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