TRAFFIC THOUGHTS

‘You know, you need to reschedule that meeting with Mr. Lakunle tomorrow for 1pm’

Chioma spoke as she drove. I was huddled on my side looking out and not paying attention to what she was saying. There was heavy traffic today, I was feeling claustrophobic, I'd had a terrible day and I needed to lie down in my room, on my bed. Alone.

‘Babe, are you even listening to me?’ Chioma asked. When she realized I was ignoring her she turned up the volume of the music; she couldn’t be bothered with me.

I looked out the window into the traffic, watching people in other cars and imagining what was going on in their lives.

My gaze fell on a very yellow and really beautiful woman driving a black Hummer and looking very confused. I decided to start there.

                                 *******

Lana was determined not to cry. She tried changing stations to find a song that would lift her mood.

If only this blasted traffic would just move so that she could get home.

She found a station and it was playing ‘it is well with my soul’ she sang along with the crooner who  sounded soulful, hoping and believing that the lyrics would help calm her down.

‘How can you just sit there and act like a fool? In fact you are a fool’ the voice resounded in her head. She tried to shake it off, but it persisted.

‘Fool!’ “Fool!!” “Fool!!!”

Slowly the tears started to run down her face, as she continued to mouth the words ‘it is well with my soul’

She was sobbing fast now so much so that she didn’t see the car in front of her moving till she heard angry horns behind her.  And suddenly someone pounded on her car window.

‘Madam move this ya box comot for road abeg, all these women wey no sabi drive’ the driver hissed as he returned to his car.

                                      ******

Emeka had had enough of women. Proud annoying beings like his boss and the fat woman driving the hummer in front of him that feels she owns the road.

He had been a driver for nearly 2 years and he was sick of it. His boss was mean and degraded him at every opportunity she got.

She had just called him to go to the house and pick up her dog and take it to the vet.

A whole him? A bona fide graduate? Working for a woman that was his youngest sister’s age? He shook his head in self-pity.

The traffic moved a bit and he moved. He was so worried. The little witch would not understand his delay, she never did. The other day she had slapped him for bringing her food late, even though he tried to explain that the queue was so much, she had slapped him in front of other drivers and in front of her colleagues.

He would show her. Bloody small witch. He would continue to collect her money and one day he would be gone. She would see.

He sighed as he prayed for the traffic to move fast else he wouldn’t hear the last of it.

                                       ******

Thank god the jeep was tinted she thought as she moved her hands to his thighs.

At least no one would catch her in this traffic. As the lead singer in her church, Cynthia could not afford to be seen dressed in certain ways or in certain places, especially today she lied to get out of church for the midweek service.

She just wished the traffic would move faster so that the evening could begin.

He came to pick her from work and she was very excited that he was around. So was he, she could tell by the hardness in his pants.

She smiled up at him. ‘Hmmm you’re ready for me I see ba’ he smiled in return, ‘baby I’m always ready for you. From the day I met you till today. You are such a minx.’

She liked hearing him talk, and doing dirty things to him. Their relationship, brief as it was, thrived on that.

So in traffic, on this warm evening, in his tinted car, she tugged him free from his trousers and gave him head.

It was her good fortune that she met him after being single for so long. He was young, rich, good looking and very single. He was mostly based in Port Harcourt and didn’t have a house in town, so In the two months since she met him, and whenever he was in town, they always stayed together at his usual hotel.

As she licked and sucked on him, she heard him moan and felt him shake. She was thankful for the traffic though, she needed him focused on the road, she didn’t want to die yet. At least not like this.

                                                                     ******

Mehn this girl is good o, Toba thought to himself as he tried so hard to focus on his driving. Thankful for the traffic, so at least he didn’t have to move so fast and he could concentrate on feeling like a king.

Kai, being a man is such a wonderful thing o. just have money and tell these girls anything and they will fall for you.

Good thing his wife was still out of the country. She had to go give birth to their second child.

This was the most fun he had had in a while as his wife was very watchful of him when she was around and any slip ups would mean losing his source of livelihood.

Mehn it was hard getting to the top and like the girl currently licking his balls, he had learnt to package himself very well to get her.

No packaging and all you got were the cheapskate girls. This one looked like she had dough and just needed a husband. who cares.

‘ahhh, yes girl, oh you so good’ he moaned. It was going to be one hell of an evening.

                                                   ******

‘Why is this stupid car not moving o’? Abdul muttered to himself as he honked a few times to get the jeep’s attention.

Abdul was a happy taxi driver. As far as he was concerned he was the happiest man on earth. After almost 10 years of waiting, his wife had just given birth to twins.  He was on his way back to the hospital armed with all the things the doctors asked him to buy.

His phone rang, he looked at it, he didn’t want to answer because he was driving, but today was exceptional so he answered anyway, firmly keeping his eyes on the road.

‘hello Ibrahim,  yaya kake?’ he asked with a big smile

“eh, gaskiya ne, she gave birth today o, im a hanya zuwa asibiti’

‘daya yaro, daya yarinyar’ he responded to the caller

He laughed at something the caller said and replied.

Yes o, Allah mai kyau ne, ya amsa mani’ 

‘Thank you my friend, thank you’. The call ended and he continued to smile.

They had suffered for years for this and his wife had been ridiculed, but today Allah had shown them mercy and they could laugh again. 

This traffic should move ooooooo. He was so eager to drop off his passenger and get to the hospital to hold his kids and post pictures about them and boast that he was fertile despite all the insults.

Oh shoot, he forgot to buy Amina the yogurt she asked for. Kai. This journey would be long.

His phone rang again and he smiled. 

                                                               ******

This taxi smells bad and no air anywhere. God let the traffic move fast please, it’s getting late. 

Peace thought as she looked outside the window craning her neck to see the cause of the traffic. There was almost never traffic on her way home, and she was wondering what happened today. 

As she was still She wondering and wishing, her phone rang -  Abel Caretaker- seeing the name her heart stopped. Oh Lord, help me. This was his fifth call to her today alone and she was scared that if she didn’t talk to him, she would get home one day and find her property outside.

He was a mean caretaker, and he never dealt gently with his tenants. She had seen him deal with old tenants and it was always bad. She had lived there 3 years now and never missed rent, but since she lost her former job that paid so well, she couldn’t really afford the house anymore and the sugar daddies were getting stingier with their money. No one wanted any liability.

The call ended.

She started to chew her nails nervously praying he would not call back. 

Her phone started to ring again. He was calling. Her heart throbbed so badly and she really needed to piss. She closed her eyes and took deep breaths praying for a miracle. She was tired of this kind of stress, of not having enough money for rent and barely enough to take care of herself. She cursed the MMM investment she made, cursed her ex fiancé for making her do it, cursed herself for being stupid and cursed the bank for sacking her.

She had to think of a lie to tell Mr. Abel, and she had to think fast, else she would find herself on the street with her property. 

She had a sudden headache.

If only this stupid traffic would move and this aboki would stop his annoying calls and take her home so she could shower and pray. She had to fast and pray.

“God help me please” she muttered. 

                                                              ******

Inside the bus was really hot and Akin was listening to music on his phone not bothered by the heat.

It was a song by Tuface and one man whose voice he didn’t recognize. 

He didn’t know the song that well so he just bobbed his head to the beat. He couldn’t care less if the traffic was moving or not. He was just grateful to be able to sit at all and relax.

After the day he had at the shop, he needed the break. He was close to his freedom and he could feel it. He tapped his back pocket to be sure the money was still there, and it was.

He had palmed 13,000 from the sales today and his boss wouldn’t even notice. He loved his job; loved the fact that he was in charge and that his boss trusted him so much.

His brother always told him to be smart else he wouldn’t make it in Abuja, adding that no one came to Abuja to count bridges. Akin took the advice to heart and was looking forward to when he would steal up to the 2 million naira so that he could rent his own shop and open his own boutique. 

In 6 months he had already made 975,000 from his boss.

He would take the 13,000 to Julie later tonight. He saved all his monies with her, that way no matter what happened his boss would never know it was him.

Another song started and this time he sang along with a smile, it was a song by oritsefemi.

                                                             ******

‘Do you know who I am?’

‘Who are you? What will you do? This is how you people will go around asking rubbish questions. I dare you to do you worse. Rubbish’

The voices brought me out of my imaginary world. They belonged to two men. One obviously an employed driver and the other looked like a bank manager.

“oga” the driver began, his voice very loud and angry ‘all this your grammar is just prolonging this traffic, you cannot be making noise here, who you are will not solve this one o. if you like call the  president, that one doesn’t matter’ he gestured wildly pointing at the man.

‘the best way forward is for you to either take me to the mechanic or give me…

‘my friend will you shut up there’ the bank manager retorted. ‘you are a bad driver and by the time I’m done with you no one will employ you again’ he was heaving seriously and pressing his whole. Trying to call God knows who.

‘Who you be? You’re just here talking big as if you have the money. Do you think you are God? If you like stay there and be speaking grammar, the two of us will sleep here today’. The Driver sat on the hood of the Bank Manager’s Car, a show that he would not back down.

People were more interested in getting home than in coming down to try and appease to two grown men. And so it was just them taking up so much space and not caring about it.

Chioma somehow maneuvered and got us out of there. I was grateful to be free of the traffic, but I wish I could have seen who won the argument.

                                                          

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