A. Barrett - Love Is Power, or Something Like That - Stories

“I am not saying that the spoiled AC is the driver’s fault, but I will stand on my right. I have the right to demand that I get the service I paid for. Or at least a refund.”

“Sorry o, oga activist, since you don’t have anything better to do than to be fighting BRT driver. But me, I have people waiting for me at my shop, I can’t afford to be wasting time because of nonsense AC. If you like AC so much, why not go and buy your own motor and put AC inside?”

“Whether I have a car or not is none of your business. What I am saying is that all of us paid extra sixty naira for the AC, and so we have the right to demand it.”

“Oya, go and demand for it,” the yellow fine woman said. Then she raised her voice higher than everybody’s own. “Driver, don’t turn back o! Don’t listen to them. Carry go!”

I was looking at the Mr. Kosoko man when the yellow fine woman and the black suit man were quarrelling. After the woman shouted at the driver, the Mr. Kosoko man could not endure any more. He turned his face to be looking at me too, but he was talking to the yellow fine woman.

“Madam, why do you want to fight against all of us? Can’t you see that everybody wants to go back? Is it because of your own selfish reason that you want to prove obstruction to justice?”

The yellow fine woman faced him. “Yes, I am selfish, I agree! As if what you’re doing is not selfish too. Or you think it is everybody that wants to go back?”

“But you’re the only one who is against us. Everybody is saying that we should go back — you’re the only one who is causing opposition. You’re not more important than everybody o.”

“I’m not the only one! Other people are afraid to talk!” After she said this one, the yellow fine woman raised her voice so that it will reach all the other people inside the bus. “See this hold up, if we go back we will still come back to meet it here. And those BRT people will not even change the bus for us. They will just give us back our money and tell us to go and join queue again. If you agree with me that we should not go back, abeg raise your hand.”

Everybody inside the bus kept quiet and all of them were turning to look at each other. After small time, only two people raised their hand. One of them was the old mama who was sitting on the same seat with me. The other person was one bobo in brown-color T-shirt who was sitting on the same seat with the yellow fine woman. No other person raised their hand.

“You see,” said the Mr. Kosoko man, “you people are the minority. It is all of us against only three of you. Even if we are practicing democracy, we are still the winners. Driver, the people have spoken. If you don’t want trouble, take us back!”

“Don’t go back o, driver!” the yellow fine woman shouted. “Don’t mind them, it is you that is driving, just ignore all of them!”

So the quarrel started again and the yellow fine woman — to tell you the truth, that woman has sharp mouth — was facing everybody. Me, I was just enjoying myself. It is true that I wanted to talk, I wanted to tell the yellow fine woman that it is not only because of AC that we are fighting, that if we don’t stand up for our right then BRT bus will become like danfo too and they will be taking us for granted and treating us anyhow, but because of my smelling mouth problem, I could not say anything. Then the bus started to move again. Small time, we reached the end of the road where if the bus turns right then we are continuing the journey, but if it turns left then we are going back. The bus turned left.

“Yeepa!” the yellow fine woman shouted. She put her hand on top of her head and started to scatter her head scarf. “Driver, so you’re going back? Mo gbe o — you have killed me! Ah!”

After she shouted, the Mr. Kosoko man turned round to look at her. By now she had removed her hand from on top of her head and she was using it to be slapping her lap. The Mr. Kosoko man stretched his hand to hold her hand, and he was rubbing the back of her hand softly, so that she will not be angry. “Don’t worry dear, take it easy, it is all right,” he was telling her, “we will not waste any time, you will see. Let me give my phone — you can use it to call the people that are waiting for you.”

True-true, the Mr. Kosoko man gave her his phone, and the yellow fine woman did not complain again. Small time, the two of them were laughing like they knew each other before.

When we reached the BRT park, people started to stand up and rush out before the bus has even stopped. Me, I was thinking that, see this people, what are they rushing for — the BRT people will put all of us inside another bus that is the same size, so everybody will surely get a seat. Anyhow, because I did not rush with them, I was the last person to drop from the bus. The driver was standing beside the door. He was talking to everybody as they were coming down. When it was my turn to drop, he was saying to me, “I’m sorry for the trouble, sir, the AC was working before, don’t worry about your ticket, please don’t be angry.” Wonders shall never end. You see why I only enter BRT bus?

Why not I quickly describe the driver so that you will know the kind of person he is?

He is tall a bit and his face is rough, like he used to have chickenpox before. He is wearing the sky-blue-color shirt and dark-blue-color trouser that is the uniform of BRT staff, but his own is ironed well, not like some of them. From the way he is smiling I can see that his children will be jumping up and down and shouting “Daddy oyoyo!” anytime he comes back to his house from work. In short, he is a good man.

Anyhow, when I reached the new bus that the BRT people had brought for us, the door was blocked because people were struggling to enter. The conductor was standing inside and he was shouting, “Don’t rush o — there are forty-nine of you and all of you will get seats!” but nobody was hearing him, young man, old woman, small children even, all of them were just rushing like it was a competition. Me, I just waited till everybody entered, before I entered.

I couldn’t believe it — the seats were full up! The conductor walked round the whole bus checking for empty seat, but everything was full up. So he came back to where I was standing and started to harass me.

“Are you sure you were in the other bus?”

Me, I just nodded.

“Who did you sit beside?”

I was using my eye to look for the old mama, but I didn’t see her. So I wanted to go to the front of the bus to look for her, but the conductor held my hand. By this time I had started to vex. Why will our people be cheating like this? Everything was going on well until somebody came to sit on my seat.

So then I pushed the conductor’s hand and I wanted to pass him to go and look for the old mama, but people started to complain. They started saying that I should talk now, that am I deaf and dumb, that why am I wasting their time, that the conductor should not fear my muscle, that all of them will gather and beat me if I touch him, that he should push me outside! As everybody was standing up and looking at me like I am a thief, all of a sudden my eyes saw the old mama. She was sitting at the extreme front of the bus.

So I shouted at the conductor, “See the woman I was sitting near! She is in front.”

As soon as I opened my mouth, everybody closed their mouth. Even though BRT bus is long — with forty-nine passengers, I did not know that before — yet in the front, people were making foonfoon sounds and covering their nose. The conductor squeezed his face like I have killed his mother. Then he released my hand and ran to the front, and the bus started to move.