By Victor Kwame Sampong
I was about to go offline so as to catch my breath with a bottle of chilled Coca-Cola, but just as I wanted to swipe, another call came through. I accepted anyway, but quickly stopped to get my soft drink before proceeding to the pickup spot.
I got there and picked up Princess and her friend beside Governor Wike’s father’s house at Rumuepirikom. They were heading to school, the only Federal University in Port Harcourt.
I read the room and knew they were to be left alone. However, the antennas in my ears were on high alert. They were engaged in a chit-chat, and it seemed important, so much so that, they didn’t want me to hear it, so their voices were low. Nevertheless, I had the perfect counter plan…my ever-effective ears, trained for such situations.
Princess was in a dilemma. She had a randy lecturer on her case, who was hell-bent on having his way with her, in exchange for favourable marks in his course, one which is integral to her entire stay in school. Her only other option was to sort him out with Thirty-Thousand Naira (N30,000).
That was the exact amount she got from her ‘movement’ the previous night and she had no intention of parting with it; mainly because, she was broke and badly needed the funds for her upkeep, and also, ‘business’ has been very bad this period.
So, she was seeking advice from her friend and roommate. For the roomie, she was of the opinion her friend was even lucky to have a second option, unlike most.
Moreover, men of such age rarely spend too much time on women, so in no time, they would be done. And it’s not like she hasn’t had sex with old men before…all these were from her chief advisor.
The comments from her friend seemed to have resonated well with Princess as she was nodding in agreement (as I took a quick glance at them from my rearview mirror) with all the points given to back up the advice. Ultimately, she concurred and agreed to give in.
Well, nothing concerned agbero with overload. We got to Choba and bade them farewell after receiving payment.
After the rains on Tuesday, I decided to step out in the evening for a few hours to complete the rides needed to get the paltry One Thousand, Six Hundred Naira (N1,600) bonus Bolt pushed my way. Just three more to go.
The first one was very short. From around my house to Oroazi, and then from Oroazi to Waterlines. Very simple movements. But the last one would prove to be a bone in my throat.
A woman booked from Waterlines heading to Abuloma. I didn’t want to go initially as it would take me far away from home, because I just wanted those three rides and return home immediately. I also pointed it to her that due to the policemen blocking the road, there should be traffic at this time, plus another one that’s usually at the Fimie Junction. The woman managed to persuade me to take her because it was late and she was tired as a result of a long journey. I crossed the road to help her with one of her boxes, while she carried the other one, as I didn’t want to turn in front of Titan Trust Bank to where she was, due to the traffic on her side of the road heading to the flyover.
True to my words, there was traffic courtesy of the policemen along Abuloma Road and another one before Fimie too. She said I shouldn’t worry that it wasn’t long. I don dey vex for my mind sef. Luckily, we passed there and turned into her Estate gate. She directed me to her house…but that’s where things turned ugly.
The woman asked me to go down and open her gate so I could drive in. I turned around to look at her behind me and asked her why? She repeated the thing again and if not for home training, I for tell am wetin no nice.
I composed myself and politely told her that, I don’t even go into people’s compounds for any reason, whether pick up or drop off, the gate is where I stop. She kept arguing that I’m the first cab guy telling her ‘this rubbish’. I was fuming inside.
I told her to pay me and leave my car before another thing happen. She told me my work isn’t completed yet as I didn’t drop her at her preferred spot.
I knew if I face this woman alone, the situation might degenerate into something else. The security gate wasn’t far from where we were. So I rushed down there and called two guys to come to help her as it was an emergency. It was when they got there I explained everything to them. The woman was still shouting at me.
One of the guys asked that I popped the booth open, which I did and he helped with her bags to her gate. Then asked how much, I told him and he paid. That’s how I left that place with my sanity still intact. I drove straight home without bothering to look for ‘one for the road’, because my mood don spoil already.
Luckily, I met the second half of Real Madrid vs Manchester City and that took my mind off everything.
One thought on “Memoirs of a Bolt Guy: A not so difficult decision”
Nigerians. We do a lot of funny stuff. That’s how one will be employed as a driver whose primary duty is to DRIVE, someone will now want to turn driver to domestic help, and ask him to come and pound yam. And do other silly stuff.