Memoirs of a Bolt Guy: Death at the work place

By Victor Kwame Sampong

The past week had been a tough one for E-hailing drivers in Port Harcourt due to the sad events that befell two of our colleagues.

News had filtered in on Tuesday night that a Bolt guy was shot dead in Rumubekwe and his car taken away. Videos of his corpse were too gory to watch. He was an active member of our group, and he also came out during our protest at the Rivers State Board of Internal Revenue against multiple taxations.

In two days’ time, yet another sad story surfaced. A driver was booked and his supposed client overpowered him and snatched his car that night. He managed to raise the alarm that alerted the policemen at Gateway Junction on Ada George Road, which led to the apprehension of the culprits. It was not without the car being badly damaged because they rammed into something in their bid to get away hastily.

Earlier this year, I had also written about another driver who was stabbed to death at Ordinance Road and his Toyota Matrix car subsequently taken away.

These incidents put fear in the hearts and minds of my colleagues, with many advocating for us to close work on time and the night trips.

Other drivers want both major E-hailing companies to do more in the area of proper profiling of customers before allowing them to use their platforms. We notice that the details of the drivers are clearly out there on the platform, including our photographs, but the same is not applied to the customers who book us, so maybe that could be a step in assuring our protection.

It’s quite unfortunate that no adequate Know Your Customer (KYC) procedures are taken during their enrolment on the platform.

Since pictures of clients are not required like in the case of drivers, you don’t even know what the person you’re going to pick looks like.

The names on their profile are not necessarily real names. Customers tend to use their nicknames or abbreviations as seen on the screen when an order comes in.

They’re also not mandated to register with a valid form of identification, something that’s a must for drivers before being approved on the platform. Driver’s license, National Identity Number, etc, should be the basics before usage of the platform is granted.

So, they make drivers go through stringent processes before getting them and their cars approved, and some of these are repeated about annually, while their more cherished customers are left off the hook lightly.

We’ve enjoined our colleagues to bombard both Bolt and Uber with emails in a bid to force their hands to do the needful. We hope that they do comply, while we also take the necessary steps to protect ourselves and reduce such tragic events.

The Depression of an Arse-nal fan

I had just gotten my car back on Wednesday after a few days with my mechanic. These days, it’s hard to go two weeks without seeing Ford or his boys. But what can we do?!

I set out for work, looking to meet up with the weekly target or somewhere close to it.

After a few non-episode-worthy rides, I got one off Obi Wali Road. I quickly dashed to pick him up after calling to find out his location. Like most male clients, he wasted no time getting in and we moved. I already had my Reggae playlist on Boomplay jamming via Bluetooth and that set the tone for the conversation that followed. We were both vibing to Bob Marley’s ‘No Woman No Cry’ song when he said we should stop by Orosi Guest House, off Psychiatric Road, Rumuigbo, to get something that he just needed to clear his head.

Usually, I no dey lose guard like that, but na my area and the joint in question is a very familiar one where we go to sometimes to watch football games. Everybody there sabi me and if anything wan sup, two seconds, boys fit lap.

Besides, he already agreed to pay by the hour after I relayed my concerns to him and my paid waiting rates. As we were pulling in, I got credited with the first two hours of waiting and I went offline immediately.

From the security guys at the gate to the bar attendants, almost everyone exchanged pleasantries with me, so that him sef…him mind go dey.

We got drinks and meat and we started talking about football. I knew that wasn’t the main gist. Why is he beating around the bush sef? If I wanted to talk Sports, I would have honoured any of the numerous invitations I get weekly from my colleagues to grace their shows as a guest analyst.

Another Bolt guy drove in soon after to drop a client. The girl yansh no be here. As she elegantly walked towards the reception, we both had no choice but to stare at the beauty before us. But like Tony Umez who had just been snapped out of his ‘juju state’, my client reacted the same way, blinking his eyes and telling me,”bros forget that thing…nothing come out”. I felt like I could hear his thoughts in Nyesom Wike’s voice…”all faaake, faaake’…lol!

I asked why he said that. Uncle then narrated how he met a beautiful lady about two months ago, with an even better shape and well-rounded ass. It wasn’t that big, but well formed and contoured. The fantasies he gets when she showed up to their dates in those rubber-like body-hugging gowns were never-ending.

But in those two months, she refused to let him hit the coochie. Her reasons were that they just met and they should try to know each other better. He too, being a patient man, wasn’t bothered that much, because, in the end, he gets to eat the fattest bone.

So, on that fateful day our paths crossed, he had just gone out with his babe and they both agreed to ‘do the do’ afterwards. They returned to his place, where I picked him up from. He went in to freshen up first, while she did the same afterwards. He went to the parlour to sip a few things to enhance his performance on the pitch. When he returned, she was already in her nightie with nothing underneath. So he proceeded to hold her as she was standing by the bedroom mirror, starting off lightly to feel her nice body and all that.

As he ran his hands through her back while kissing, going to feel her ass, he found the place to be as flat as Aba Road without the flyovers. He did so again, and the arse wasn’t there. As shocked as he was, he broke free from their embrace to further inspect the disputed project site with his own hands. But he realized his hands didn’t lie either…it was his babe that had been lying to him for the past two months.

He sought to find out the truth from her and she confessed to having been wearing ‘the yansh’ all the while. And she showed him the stuff, well tucked away in one corner inside his wardrobe. That’s when it dawned on him that he had been training for wrong competition since. Instead of competing for the UEFA Champions League trophy, na League One Playoff he found himself.

He angrily stormed out of the house and asked his cousin to go back there to ensure he locks the place immediately the babe leaves.

I asked him why he didn’t just continue the match since he had already come a long way. He revealed that he was a bonafide ‘ARSErnal fan’ and can’t be subjected to be playing against lesser league opposition. He’s one of those men that likes ‘Yansh’ more than boobs.

It’s a quality that can’t be compromised on. A registered and verified member of the ‘Yansh Geng’ and nothing would make him settle for less. He went on and on to describe and give commentary about the different states of ‘Yansh’ and that’s when I knew he was well grounded in that topic.

Well, two hours were well spent and I dropped him off at his friend’s place to go play PS5.

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