Lagos, you will not make me run mad

Say Amen!

Do you know how long it takes me to get home from work on a normal day?

Thirty minutes.

Tell me why I used three hours today simply because I couldn’t find bus.

In this life, have coping mechanisms because as a highly impatient person, I am sincerely surprised I’m still smiling.

---

Sidebar: Why are men?

I got flashed with a man’s ass crack as early as 9am in the morning. Like bro, no boxers? Even if you want to go commando, no belt?

That aside, I left work by 6pm, started walking to the point where I could cross the road and I saw guys urinating, facing our office walls.

Not one

Not two

Not three

Four!

All evenly spaced too, like they were in some kind of public urinal. It was surreal

I crossed the road and while waiting for my bus, a random guy just spat into upcoming traffic

What happened to shame? and hygiene? and common decency?

And it’s all these men that will go to twitter and be accusing women of digging for gold that they do not have.

It’s them that will start with the submissive women, claiming “that’s how your mother…”

Si eba puo osiso. Onye ara.

Mtchheww

Not to talk of the amount of selfish as hell drivers.

The road splits into two. The side you’re going has traffic but you deem it fit to block the space allocated for the free side just so you can cut ahead in traffic.

Isi ewu.

Onye nzuzu.

Selfish motherfuckers

---

Men aside, I stood waiting for a bus for about thirty minutes. Frankly due to the traffic, my bus stop which was a hot and common commodity had now become scarce like a fruit in its off season.

Every bus was going the opposite direction. Even Berger, ol’ reliable betrayed me.

the one time a bus came, it stopped in front of me, but another guy hopped inside it.

Fifteen minutes later, I decided to go to Oshodi.

---

Sidebar, on Tuesday something similar happened, then I got to Oshodi and met this angel of a man.

He kept giving suggestions on where to go to get a quicker bus. He insisted on walking on the side of the traffic. He would let me walk in front of him if there was a narrow pass

All in all this man was a gentle man

We had spent about thirty minutes there when my bus passed. He urged me to enter but I got off when I realized I didn’t have enough money to reach the price the conductor called.

This guy asked me why I got off and when I told him, I didn’t have enough and I’ll possible wait for one willing to take me hundred naira short, this man gave me two hundred naira

Another one passed and he urged me to enter it. I felt guilty but I also had to go home soo.

I didn’t get his name or number, but he made me believe that men could still be good.

The man in the brown shirt from Tuesday, if you see this, I really appreciate you

---

Where was I?

I got to Oshodi and walked to the same stop I picked up a bus on Tuesday.

10 minutes. I was listening to music, so it wasn’t that bad

20 minutes. A woman just told me to remove my phone from my back pocket

30 minutes. I played a game on my phone

40 minutes. Phone 10%. Oh no, my coping mechanism

50 minutes. It’s drizzling, but hey, just bought boiled groundnuts as a coping mechanism

60 minutes. Pretty sure that bike rider is flirting with me, if I flirt back will he give me a ride?

70 minutes. Groundnut finished. Come so no bus is actually going that side

80 minutes. bought another groundnut. pretty sure I’ve seen five planes fly by.

90 minutes. should I just give up and enter to Palmgrove side, we’re already wet

So that’s how I entered a bus to Palmgrove. Groundnut finished. My skincare might hate me for that decision but omo, I would do it again for peace of mind abeg. I’m a stress eater.

As a queen of coping mechanisms, I was well prepared. I whipped out my novel of the week and started reading in the bus. We got to Anthony, and it took me crossing the pedestrian bridge and walking over five minutes to get to the next bus stop.

I still waited about thirty minutes there before I saw bus

Moral of the story have coping mechanisms. I wouldn’t have survived today without them (this publication is literally a coping mechanism for my job btw)

I can’t believe I have to live like this for another two months.