Memoirs of a Bolt Guy: It’s getting wesser and wesser

By Victor Kwame Sampong

These past few weeks have been quite difficult for me, and it was mainly due to the mechanical work being carried out on my car. It took me about three weeks to get the car back from Odinaka (my mechanic).

I had to spend the next few days testing the car and slowly easing the engine back to the rigours of commercial use.

One fateful Wednesday, I got an order from my Uber app. I headed to the pickup point and this beautiful lady, sexually dressed, hopped in. She was pissed while on the phone. After she was done with her call, she started smiling a bit and vibing to the music I was playing via Bluetooth.

The playlist in cue was an old-school love songs mix which was in tune with the drizzling rain at the time. We were both singing along and I could tell she was happy. We got talking and she opened up to me.

One of the Universities in Port Harcourt would be having its convocation ceremony in two days’ time and she was eager to make a big statement, beauty-wise, as she was also graduating.

She saw her friend’s WhatsApp status and liked her appearance, so she sought to know the place her friend did the makeup. Her friend told her it cost Twenty-One Thousand Naira (N21,000), which she didn’t have any issue with.

However, instead of directing her to the main place, she was given the wrong phone number and the wrong address instead. So, my client was of the opinion that her friend was jealous of her because she would come out more beautiful than her. So, she didn’t hold back when pouring out anger on her friend as she was boarding my car.

I tried to talk her out of it that it could have been an honest mistake, but she would have none of it. She insisted it was deliberate as the girl had always been jealous of her, especially, since she usually gets the ‘big boys’ in her corner when they go out on their ‘movements’.

As we got to her hostel, there was a small crowd gathered in her compound because another drama was unfolding. I swiped to end the ride, got paid and came down to make enquires. What I heard shook me.

So, Madam Esther didn’t bear children of her own because she was unmarried. So, she took it upon herself to raise her two nephews and a niece and also train them in school, like they were her own children. Word has it that, she comes around regularly to check up on them and made sure they lacked nothing.

All three children were supposed to join their colleagues to graduate at the weekend like my client. But Madam Esther discovered one of her boys wasn’t joining the party as she had planned.

The boy in question wasn’t a student, but had been milking her for the past four years with various types of bills: school fees, upkeep, house rent, books, and even the very same convocation he wasn’t going to be a part of. The woman was shattered, devastated and heartbroken, while crying her heart out and explaining to those who cared to listen the amount of sacrifices she had to make to give them a chance and a good shot at life.

I felt for her as I left the scene, shaking my head in disbelief, wondering how some people would deliberately shoot themselves in the foot.

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