I ran out from my street rushing towards the bus stop. I could see and hear the conductor shouting,
“Ojuelegba!! Barracks!! Constarreko!!…..” he shouted at the top of his croaked voice with a sachet of paraga (local gin) and a burning wrap of indian hemp between his fingers.
“Constereko!!!! Constereko….” He shouted the words which were meant to be (Constain, Eko). These were places the danfo bus would make stops before it got to its final destination which was the island.
As I ran towards the junction, I was already envisaging a terrible day ahead; maybe the worst day of my life. Sighting me from where he stood with others calling out the obscured stops, the conductor ran as fast as he could towards me, beating others to the chase still reciting his ‘anthem’. This time it was something different but I could still make out a word.
“Ayaya eko….., Ayaya eko….., egbon where you dey go, Eko ni?”
“I’m going to Costain” I replied confused but still walking, with him trying to hold my hand.
“I dey go there,” he replied leading me on, taking a sip from the local gin and a puff from his hemp.”
“Costereko….. ayaya eko…., barracks eko…..” he kept shouting with spits from the side of his lips pouring on me while he continued shouting unconcerned. Under the circumstances of time been against me all I cared was to find myself in Victoria Island the venue for the interview.
I was about taking a leap into the Danfo bus when I noticed my left considerably lighter than the right. “No it can’t be,” I said in my head as I noticed that the sole of the left shoe was gone.
“What?” I shouted loudly looking around the spot where I stood. Taking a few steps back I kept looking around but couldn’t find it. “ What is this now?” I asked rhetorically as tears choked up on my throat. Walking away from the bus I slowly retraced my step back to the entrance of my street but couldn’t find anything resembling the shoe sole.!
references (http://noniwap.com.ng)
