Tales of a Keke Passenger From Opolo to Ekeki by Victor Oroyi – Episode 8 | Dem Dey Front
Tales of a Keke Passenger From Opolo to Ekeki by Victor Oroyi – Episode 8 | Dem Dey Front
About three hours to noon, on market day in Opolo. The last working day for regular 9 to 5 workers. The human traffic is made up of market women and men carrying their wares around for purchasers. On this day, traffic is slow, as traders, despite the presence of security men, would still bring out their wares on the major road – Mbiama-Yenagoa Road.
The kekes come empty especially those making U-turn at the Opolo junction. Nonetheless, I joined this full-loaded keke after the rider stops in front me, desirous of sitting in front for no obvious reason today.
I seat comfortably with the rider on the front seat. I felt good and comfortable, ‘I dey go Ekeki‘, looking at him and didn’t ask the fare, he nods and accelerates his keke.
Few metres away from that point, he carried me, he whispers into my ear ‘Ekeki, na N150‘, and I turn to look at him, seeing that he too was looking.
I felt indifferent, in my mind, ‘I know the price, I think say, you wan talk N200‘, and taking my face off him and smiling to the breeze pouring on my face ‘don’t bother‘ I said in my mind. Not feeling up to saying a word. When you have that confidence that you will take care of the situation, you just allow things be.
‘U hold change, abi‘, his native tongue comes out sharply this time.
His tonality attracted him to me, but this time, looking at him more keenly; his heavily designed ‘tribal marks’ on both cheeks became visible. His accompanying dressing gives him away as a westerner but not sure if he is Ilesha, Ijebu or Eko.
From my observation in Yenagoa, most westerners are tailors or better still called ‘fashion designers’ and mechanics. They are known for making different designs of clothes even the traditional outfit of the Ijaws. These fashion designers are dotted all around the cities even in places you least expect.
As mechanics, they control the mechanic village located along the Imiringi Road and owns smaller workshops within the city centre. ‘But, this one is a keke rider‘, I thought to myself.
His question comes with a surprise; we had just passed the former NEPA office in Opolo when he asked. ‘So, if I don’t have change, I should drop‘, I said in my mind and smile off to enjoy the chillness of the breeze pouring on my face.
I felt very comfortable at the front seat, free for the hassles of the backseat. The three passengers are two males and a female – she is wearing the jersey of one of the teams in the English Premiership – sitting in between the male passengers.
I took note of her when our faces met twice. On the last time, I quickly turn to look ahead, and adjusting myself to sit more comfortably ‘nothing concern me with una for backseat today‘. There are days, you want things done differently. The temperature, is still unbearable. Voices from my neighbourhood voiced out their lamentation of the unbearable heat all night, and how sleep is taken off people’s eyes while the skin produces so much sweat with spotted rashes.
So, I needed to breath too. This brand of keke is different. The space is good enough and the rider is small in size compare to me. I am enjoying my comfort.
‘Driver, stop… stop here‘, one of the male passenger shouted and tapping the rider at the back.
******
This is a typical characteristics of keke passengers, they wait until they get to the exact point before they alert the rider. A very dangerous trend that if not for the mercies of God, many lives would have been lost. They complain, if the rider fails to stop at their desired point of exit. For me, most of the cases are interesting – the action, the reactions, and the response – from passengers to riders and riders to passengers.
Most passengers have called for the construction of designed bus-stops in the city, where people can alight as a measure to regulate indiscriminate parking in Yenagoa. Ironically, the few bus-stops provided, these passengers do not use them.
*******
The rider manourves his way from the speed lane to stop at the Greenvilla junction in Biogbolo, as he stops, a lady standing by the roadside ‘Imgbi, Imgbi, Imgbi‘ shouting collides with the male passenger, who is trying to find his way to alight.
He steps in front of the keke, using it as shading himself, he brings out the bundle of notes of N1000 from the back pocket of his blue jean trouser on a black T-Shirt wearing a sandals. The notes were folded, he unfolds and brings out lowest the denomination, which is a N500 note to give to the rider.
‘Guy..‘ in the voice of my friend, Chidi, ‘guys, still dey hold notes wen others dey complain for this economy‘ the thought alarms my mind. He collected his change and puts it in his back pocket, passing through one of the inner roads leading to main Biogbolo community. ‘Okay, na make the driver asked if I get change‘, I reason within myself again.
Thinking on this guy, the voice of the lady that just entered comes out loud.
The rider nods to the direction of the lady shouting ‘Imgbi‘, she enters, making them two females now. This new passenger is somewhat a funny personality. Her voice comes out in anxiety and panic. Her elongated eyelashes and make-up didn’t come out right. Wearing a red turtled-neck T-shirt on black shirt, she is on blue lipstick with patches of foundation powder on her face.
‘Sir, don come… I tell am say, I wan go do something‘ she replies to a call as she takes her seat, ‘where I go, the tin take my time well well oo‘ speaking at the top of her voice as the keke makes to accelerate faster ‘sir, don come… him don com, tell am say, I dey come‘. She is searching through her bag, ‘I being tell say, I wan do something… hello‘.
Now, the reason for her anxiety is obvious. She has left her place of work for a private runs. From her lines on the phone conversation, her boss is around and her colleague is informing her of his presence in the office if she had told her boss about her movement, ‘why is she anxious and panicking in the public‘.
Something is not right. People should learn to say the truth. In my mind, if you had called or sent a message to your Oga of your absence from office for a few hours, you don’t need to panic. Her facial expression showed much anxiety when she ended the call. Her continuous biting of her lips, swinging it to left and right corners of mouth, tells she is perturbed.
I can understand, this is not the best time to loss your job even if it is the ‘least’ 20k monthly-paying-job. In my mind, this keke rider go fast, Oga must not meet her outside. Or maybe the time, he gave her to return to the office is passed. I pray for her to get to the office in good time. The torture of anxiety and panic is making her look worst with her unprofessional make-up.
Still thinking on this female passenger’s ordeal; and approaching, Ididie junction, we find a long-queue of kekes parking along the road. My rider didn’t take it serious until, an on-coming keke shouted, ‘dem dey road‘, it alerted him as he manouvers to park too.
‘What, I will not enjoy this comfort until my final stop?‘, I thought within myself. My face frowns as the adrenaline hormone pumps the feeling of regret in my heart, just like this lady directly behind me.
Reaching Osiri junction, the rider says ‘abeg, no vex come down‘ looking at me remorsefully but still collected his money in full. This is not my final stop, but I take solace knowing that I have routes to access my destination from here. But I decided to trek to Ekeki Park to read the newspapers headline on Alaka’s Newstand at the entrance of Ekeki Park.
‘What a discomfort, because dem dey road‘ You would say. I started comfortably but ended uncomfortably; a setback to help a fellow hustler. Nothing is ever a loss when we direct our minds positively. But I pray that female passenger with end comfortably.
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