If you reach home, na God.
No be the driver!
The driver has been smiling. He looks like he fears God, with his fiery eyes and sparkling teeth. He has been very respectful to the passengers, ushering us into the bus in a lively manner. He is smiling at the old women and gossiping with the young men in the front seat. If all drivers are like this man, maybe there would be less accidents.
The journey has been smooth so far. Our driver’s voice keeps bellowing excitedly. It’s as if he has no worries. I’m looking through the window, compelling my eyes to race with the many trees that seem to be mocking me.
A motorcycle suddenly leaps on our driver’s lane. He is playing with fire but I think less of it. The bus driver would overlook the stupid audacity and just follow up at a normal pace. Normal seems weird to the driver. I watch a scowl creep on his face from the mirror. His hands tighten on the steering wheel as he speeds on.
I’m not thinking what you’re thinking. It’s like the bus driver suddenly lost it. He’s not smiling anymore. The motorcyclist slows down and rides on the same level with the bus while raining curses. Cars are honking. Trailers are claiming the road likes clumsy Hippos. The other passengers seem to make light of the issue.
That’s because they are not seeing the image of death already conjured iny mind.
Get Asiru Zainab Oyinkansola’s stories in your inbox
Join Medium for free to get updates from this writer.
Small Small ooo!
The driver sneers and speeds up towards danger, extremely close. The motorcyclist keeps rage riding. Our driver simply smiles and edges forward as if to crush an opponent.
The other passengers are at alert now. A trailer blares from behind. We are toying with the road and nothing compares with the wrath of an angry trailer driver.
The driver swerves calculately, almost hitting the motorcycle from the road. He yells again and I know the motorcycle has a death warrant. Passengers are pleading now. The road has become a race line. Our shoulders hit sharply with each swerve.
Finally, the motorcyclist veers into another lane and the bus settles. I am expecting loud retorts and curses but all I can hear are muffled prayers. My lips are shaking from the experience.
I alight at my destination and take another look at the driver. His creepy smile is still stamped on his sweaty face. Who could’ve thought such a smiley face would bear such sinister thoughts. Anyways, I’m home now, thanking God for keeping me safe.
What a day!
If you enjoyed this piece, don’t forget to clap, comment, follow and highlight your favourite lines.🥳
