This is How You Fight For Bus.
Today I fought to enter a bus going to Ring Road in my school park.
Before my victory, I did shakara for the first bus that came. Me? Fight for bus? Impossible. I stood there and clutched my two bags in pride as people gathered the gates like it was the pearly ones the Bible speaks of, I threw my face away. Another bus will come so I don’t have to razz myself up for this one. There’s even this cute boy-
Another bus! People are still piling it, should I fight? I heard the price and it was double the price of the student bus shouldn’t I wait? A girl came up to me and asked for the price. As I told her I expected some solidarity, even a shake of the head to show her disdain for the obvious exploitation but she asked me to move and took the last seat. I don’t like window seats anyways, someone could cut off my head from the window. Bus will come, I attract I do not chase. Wait where’s the cute boy?
I stood there, I listened to conversations, there was a law student beside me in her black and white armor “I don’t have strength to fight for bus oh.” She said coyly. I laughed in her direction so she could know she was not alone and that I was also of the same resolve. Yet, despite my determination to attract my bus, I found myself running towards buses, which I would realize were not going to where I was and then take a long walk of shame back to my standing position. I clutched my bags even harder. The sun was setting, should I take a picture? Wait another bus-
It’s already full, I blinked exactly two times and the seats were filled up. It seemed like people’s determination levels rose as buses came and left them on the muddy path. Anybody who wanted to do shakara at this point, might as well just book a private ride. The bus driver shouted that there would be other buses, we should relax, “Many buses dey come.” He said. Law girl heaved and took off her jacket, in a way I was glad to have a familiar face in this heated battle. Should I keep a seat for her when I get a bus?
I had learned the ropes you see, you could say all my shakara wasn’t just shakara but a way of gathering intel on the buses, I learnt where the Ring Road buses, according to the three ones I’ve missed, parked, the side which the doors opened, and I even knew the exact price now. I stood strategically this time, gripping my old 200 naira note. I positioned myself in such a manner that even if the bus were to fall from the literal sky, I would be seated in it before it even touched the ground.
So when the bus came I fought okay? I squeezed myself through people. I was small so this should be easy, plus they wouldn’t push that hard but somehow that wasn’t the problem, they did push, very hard, but that wasn’t the problem. The issue was I kept allowing people to pass me, I’d look at the seats, there’s still space, let this boy with the big backpack just enter, he must be carrying load. “My friend will you move!” An old man shouted behind me, “You’re using your hand to block the door.” I realized I was using the door to support myself as I tried to jam myself in, evidently blocking those behind me, I began to push through for the greater good of those behind me, they gave me strength and some needed anxiety in that moment.
I made it. Did Law Girl make it? What of the army I was leading behind me? The old man made it and shouted at someone to move so he could sit down. As the door roared shut, I took a quick glance at those who made it onto the bus, the relief was inspiring. “Oga this bus na ring road abi?” Someone asked and we all burst into laughter. “You no ask you just enter bus, this one na Abuja bus!” The bus driver joked from his kingly seat. As we began to move I could see the faces of dilemma on the fallen comrades who could not make it unto the bus. To fight or not to fight? They asked themselves. If the bus didn’t speed off so fast, maybe I would have given them some pointers.