“Oops” as I climbed to join the other passenger in the front seat. It had being a tug of war trying to get that seat. The only one you know you would feel comfortable and enjoy your fare. To a good extent, it’s comfy and you seem to be in your own world not the constricted back seats, everyone packs themselves like sardine fish. It does depend on the journey though cos I prefer the front seat while journeying a far distance for good ventilation sake.

As a regular danfo boarder big chicks know diaselves most danfo buses usually try to have two seat beside the driver to accomplish a ‘14 passenger more money things’. They create an additional seat to the manufacturer’s standard seat. This second seat ehh, there are two things involved (in Basket Mouth’s voice). Some danfo owners are nice, they rebuild the whole seat having a two joined seats while some are very stingy and cruel, they will place a small stool (like apoti- ugly looking Yoruba small stool made from wood) or a sizeable box. I swear I would rather join the conductor ‘hanging’ than to pay to sit on such.

Thank God, I got what I wanted. You might think what is special about this but seriously if you are in the league of people that jump buses every day, you will understand berra.

Ok sha, back to my discussion. I hopped in feeling like a superstar then I started browsing through my phone already enjoying my money (t-fare). Not later than few minutes that I heard the driver called out to me with a husky voice badly tainted with combination of paraga and indian hemp. The picture of his teeth is still alive on my head, I see it every moment I remember that scene, and nothing in this world can describe the jaggedness.

“Sister… abeg use the seat belt” he croaked

Little me had never remembered the necessity of a seat belt in a Lagos danfo. I’m often not reminded if it wasn’t a danfo. Maybe that name ‘danfo’ never conveys right attitudes.

“Eh… seat belt!” I exclaimed from my shock “Ok!”

Following my instinct, I stretched my hands to draw the belt towards me. “Phew…” the dirty looking rope answered my call without much effort. The energy I gave out got wasted in the air because I wasn’t supposed to ‘pull it’ but to ‘take it’.

“Er…” I gently moved it across my body inspecting it constantly so as not to touch my dress (the dress I could behead anyone who tried to stain it). One hand was trying to fasten it to a clamp, my other hand was holding it away from my dress.

The biggest trouble was now the clamp. Trying to find it was like looking for stars during the day. I was combing the seat with my hand and my other co- front boarder who seemed to be nice had to raise his butt for easy scrutinizing.

“Chai…” It was as if I had never used a seat belt before. I was even confused. What was echoing on my head was the opinion of the other passengers that “shey this fine girl wey dey do like one Americana nefa use seat bet before”.

I kept swallowing my saliva. This thing should not fall my hand. Even if I didn’t have a bicycle at least my papa tries small na… This time around, my head was very close to the raised butt allowing me to search what never existed. In my mind I was just reciting psalm 21 as any “phuuu” would just pieces my brain.

When the driver was almost knocked by the other passenger, he realized the trouble he had put us through.

“Sista, you no see am” he asked as if he was indeed concerned. But how could I see something that was never there. It’s only Jesus that could be sure of getting money inside fish mouth.

Then he continued “sista, just hold am like that…don’t worry all join”.

“Chou” I should hold the belt with one hand, then the other hand to protect my fine dress and shine teeth to passersby.

See, to cut story short that was how I became locked down with the seat belt. I held it from Yaba to my final destination (Iyana-Ipaja). This torture was to fulfill all righteousness in the eyes of the law enforcement people (LASTMA, FRSC, Police, VIO). And the actual reason for a seat belt? I immediately threw away the rope to assist myself from knocking my head whenever the driver suddenly applied the brake.

Seat belt nkwa nu…What I bargained for was not what I got instead I worked for the danfo driver not my fare working for me. I only wished I had sat at the back.

Extracted from livelifeng.com

http://www.livelifeng.com/seat-belt-in-danfo-be-like

Nice

nice write up

it is interesting

funi













ZeezaRapture abeg wetin later happen for d end