A
abujagirl
Guest
Almost two weeks ago, i narrowly escaped death but was saved by my NYSC Khaki uniform.
Okay, that first paragraph was an exaggeration but i did get saved by my Khaki. The incident i'm referring to happened about two weeks ago, on a bright Monday morning. I was to have my monthly clearance that day. I left home together with a friend who also needed to do her monthly clearance. As usual, we stopped at my junction and flagged down a ride. Living in VGC without a car is one of the hardest thing a person can ever do. It makes you an Uber shareholder as you always have to call for a ride whenever you need to step outside. I hate spending money i barely have on cabs so i always flag down private cars.
That Morning, the car we flagged down was driven a guy who reminded me of the singer Flavour because of his yellow paw-paw skin and too much muscles. He loved to talk and was happy to be driving two corps members. He kept asking questions like ''How is NYSC?'' , ''Are you enjoying Lagos'' ,when the questions became too plenty i got into my '' oga shut up and drive'' mood and let my friend do all the answering. She's a whole lot nicer than i am because she's looking for rich bae [no offence, girl.]
As we approached the estate gate, we began to sense trouble. Security was stopping every car and having a brief chat with the occupants.
''What is happening?'' , our driver asked nervously. ''We'll find out when we get there,'' i replied.
When it was our turn to go through the gate, security stopped the car and informed us that we were not safe going outside.
''Why?, '' we queried in chorus.
''There was an accident on the road. Area boys have taken over everywhere and they are protesting'', the security guy continued.
''What is our business with their protest'', our driver asked.
''They're shooting guns and police has arrived. The estate is close to the road and we'll have to lock up the gates if the trouble increases'' , the security man replied respectfully.
''I'm just going to NICON, i'll be back in less than minutes'', our driver replied.
''Coward'', i sighed. Few minutes ago he had been willing to drop I and my friend at Eti-Osa secretariat. Small story of gunshot and he changed his mind.
You needed to see how fast he drove back into VGC after dropping us by NICON. My friend wanted to go back but i said, ''Babe no o. We must do clearance today'' . I really hate wearing NYSC Khaki. Wearing it once a week should be enough.
We walked towards the bus stop. Everywhere was rowdy, people talking about gunshots but we heard none. ''Another rumour perhaps?''
We met another female corps member at the bus stop. The bus she boarded from Ajah had abandoned her and other passengers at VGC bus stop. As comrades, we stuck together. Empty buses sped back refusing to stop for passengers. Police cars sped past us. After few minutes at the bus stop some agberos came and told everybody to go home. One broke a bottle on the ground, another one sprayed water on everybody. The crowd began to move in different directions.
''Best to charter a cab'', my friend suggested. We all headed to VGC car park. At the park we couldn't get a cab because their prices had tripled. They wanted to charge us an arm an leg. Typical Naija behavior - capitalizing on a bad situation.
Like the Israelis in the wilderness we began to trek forward. Our movement was slow as there were too many people on the road. Also, the agberos seemed to have an issue with us. One called us ''ashewo'' [our NYSC outfit shows no skin whatever and is not even form fitting], the other one called us ''government pikin''. A man who was also walking beside us suggested we get into a supermarket and wait until the area was calm. He said if the trouble escalated we would be the first targets as an attack on us will be considered an attack on government by the agberos.
''What has government got to do with the accident that happened this morning?'', the other corps member asked.
''Boys are hungry. An hungry man is an angry man. They just want to release the anger'', the man continued before walking past us.
We quickened our pace. At a point we had to step off the sidewalk because the agberos won't let us pass. They threw lewd comment at us.
''Let's flag down a private car'' i suggested.
''Who will stop for us in this madness'', my friend countered.
We walked a little distance and suddenly Viola! a car door swung open just beside us.
''Enter'' that was all i heard before jumping in.
We hurried into the car. The driver was female and had one other passenger in front.
''Thank you'', we chorused.
''We were once corpers in somebody's land'', she replied cheerfully.
''I served in Kano state'', the front seat passenger told us.
They then began to talk about their time as corps members. How people occasionally helped them whenever there was trouble. They said the Khaki can land you in trouble sometimes but it can also save you at other times. They dropped us off in front of Eti-Osa Secretariat before speeding off - i may never meet them again but i'll never forget their kindness.
Other than narrowly escaping death, Lagos has been annoying - too much rain. I've been drenched to the skin twice. My hair itches and may even be smelling but i must carry it until it's old - the hair must work im money finish
Okay, that first paragraph was an exaggeration but i did get saved by my Khaki. The incident i'm referring to happened about two weeks ago, on a bright Monday morning. I was to have my monthly clearance that day. I left home together with a friend who also needed to do her monthly clearance. As usual, we stopped at my junction and flagged down a ride. Living in VGC without a car is one of the hardest thing a person can ever do. It makes you an Uber shareholder as you always have to call for a ride whenever you need to step outside. I hate spending money i barely have on cabs so i always flag down private cars.
That Morning, the car we flagged down was driven a guy who reminded me of the singer Flavour because of his yellow paw-paw skin and too much muscles. He loved to talk and was happy to be driving two corps members. He kept asking questions like ''How is NYSC?'' , ''Are you enjoying Lagos'' ,when the questions became too plenty i got into my '' oga shut up and drive'' mood and let my friend do all the answering. She's a whole lot nicer than i am because she's looking for rich bae [no offence, girl.]
As we approached the estate gate, we began to sense trouble. Security was stopping every car and having a brief chat with the occupants.
''What is happening?'' , our driver asked nervously. ''We'll find out when we get there,'' i replied.
When it was our turn to go through the gate, security stopped the car and informed us that we were not safe going outside.
''Why?, '' we queried in chorus.
''There was an accident on the road. Area boys have taken over everywhere and they are protesting'', the security guy continued.
''What is our business with their protest'', our driver asked.
''They're shooting guns and police has arrived. The estate is close to the road and we'll have to lock up the gates if the trouble increases'' , the security man replied respectfully.
''I'm just going to NICON, i'll be back in less than minutes'', our driver replied.
''Coward'', i sighed. Few minutes ago he had been willing to drop I and my friend at Eti-Osa secretariat. Small story of gunshot and he changed his mind.
You needed to see how fast he drove back into VGC after dropping us by NICON. My friend wanted to go back but i said, ''Babe no o. We must do clearance today'' . I really hate wearing NYSC Khaki. Wearing it once a week should be enough.
We walked towards the bus stop. Everywhere was rowdy, people talking about gunshots but we heard none. ''Another rumour perhaps?''
We met another female corps member at the bus stop. The bus she boarded from Ajah had abandoned her and other passengers at VGC bus stop. As comrades, we stuck together. Empty buses sped back refusing to stop for passengers. Police cars sped past us. After few minutes at the bus stop some agberos came and told everybody to go home. One broke a bottle on the ground, another one sprayed water on everybody. The crowd began to move in different directions.
''Best to charter a cab'', my friend suggested. We all headed to VGC car park. At the park we couldn't get a cab because their prices had tripled. They wanted to charge us an arm an leg. Typical Naija behavior - capitalizing on a bad situation.
Like the Israelis in the wilderness we began to trek forward. Our movement was slow as there were too many people on the road. Also, the agberos seemed to have an issue with us. One called us ''ashewo'' [our NYSC outfit shows no skin whatever and is not even form fitting], the other one called us ''government pikin''. A man who was also walking beside us suggested we get into a supermarket and wait until the area was calm. He said if the trouble escalated we would be the first targets as an attack on us will be considered an attack on government by the agberos.
''What has government got to do with the accident that happened this morning?'', the other corps member asked.
''Boys are hungry. An hungry man is an angry man. They just want to release the anger'', the man continued before walking past us.
We quickened our pace. At a point we had to step off the sidewalk because the agberos won't let us pass. They threw lewd comment at us.
''Let's flag down a private car'' i suggested.
''Who will stop for us in this madness'', my friend countered.
We walked a little distance and suddenly Viola! a car door swung open just beside us.
''Enter'' that was all i heard before jumping in.
We hurried into the car. The driver was female and had one other passenger in front.
''Thank you'', we chorused.
''We were once corpers in somebody's land'', she replied cheerfully.
''I served in Kano state'', the front seat passenger told us.
They then began to talk about their time as corps members. How people occasionally helped them whenever there was trouble. They said the Khaki can land you in trouble sometimes but it can also save you at other times. They dropped us off in front of Eti-Osa Secretariat before speeding off - i may never meet them again but i'll never forget their kindness.
Other than narrowly escaping death, Lagos has been annoying - too much rain. I've been drenched to the skin twice. My hair itches and may even be smelling but i must carry it until it's old - the hair must work im money finish
