Inside Danfo Life

Inside Danfo Life

So, I was in a Danfo bus on Saturday on my way to an owambe in Yaba. I was dressed to impress and my Guinea Buba and Sokoto was blinding white and bulletproof, courtesy of a heavy dose spray starch. I was positively buzzing too, as any Nigerian would be in anticipation of incoming jollof rice and fried meat.

No sooner had the bus taken off that the dude beside me started sleeping. Young man o, with a ‘Gallas’ haircut, wearing an ‘I used to be white’ tee shirt and black tattered jeans. You know that kind of sleep where people swing their heads at you like angry Ileya rams about to head-butt your destiny to pieces.

Yes, that kind.

Not to be labeled as inconsiderate I tried to stomach the inconvenience of his unwanted attention for a bit hoping that it would stop, but it didn’t. I also tried easing away from him, but he kept coming back.

Of course, I wasn’t going to spend the entire trip being somebody’s unpaid pillow, God forbid he starts drooling, so I decided to borrow myself small sense.

What I did? I tapped him firmly enough until he woke up, then I mimicked giving him a kiss. I swear his eyes opened wider than an agbari ojukwu immediately. Guy man even scrambled away from me and left a gulf between us. The shock on his face ehn, glorious something.

Satisfied that I had managed to negotiate my freedom from oppression without firing a single shot, I faced my front, fixed my earphone in place and enjoyed the rest of my ride in peace.

Sometimes, a little demonstration of craze is all that a person needs to get people to behave in this city of chaos.
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