|RUSH HOUR SEASON|

I had to reduce the sound of Olamide’s ‘DON’T STOP’ song that i had been listening to through the earpiece that was plugged to my ears. When i got to the garage, the bus conductor ushered me into the front seat. I observed the bus, it was almost filled up, there were just three or four passengers remaining to fill the bus, including the vacant seat beside me. I sighed, i looked outside and beckoned to a young hawker carrying a basin filled with plastic drinks – the drinks were heavily beaded with sweats of cold ice gliding down the sexy shaped plastic bottles owning to hours of refrigerating. ‘Give me one zobo drink’ i ordered. ‘fiffy Naira Sah’ The yoruba seller responded. While trying to get the drink from the basin, a man in suit rushed towards the bus quickly. In his haste, the man knocked down the boy’s offer, but didn’t turn to apologize. He gestured me to move aside and in an astonishing swish, the man opened the front door and settled himself clumsily right beside me. I shifted a bit, feeling very discomforted. The drink seller was now cursing the man, but he had been smart enough to pick up the drink before it got soiled from the sandy floor. ‘Oga, take it easy naw’ Some of the other passengers at the back remarked. ‘Driver, please let us start going!’ The man yelled, neglecting the voices of the other passengers. I frrowned, and wondered if the man could not see the empty spaces at the back seats. ‘My bus go full before I leave this place o. I can’t…’ ‘Oga driver, abeg no delay us nah, let us start going’ The drink seller had offered me a fresh bottle of Zobo, and in an absent minded response, i had accurately paid him. ‘ Mista man, calm down naw, why you wan rush driver?’ An angered old woman asked from behind. Neglecting the woman and the other passengers’ jibes, the man uttered a very strange expression that immediately spurred the driver into action; ‘I will pay for the remaining passengers, just let’s go,’ the man had said. In an instant moment, the bus conductor collected all the money and the driver started the bus. Straight went the bus into the nearby distance, not only had the hurrying man paid for the empty seats, he also paid some extra cash to keep the driver’s furious foot on the accelerator. ‘I am rushing to Onitsha to make a business deal, and I can’t allow anything to delay me.’ The man said openly, with an air of so much confidence that one could tell that anything that got in his way would be profoundly battled. Silence engulfed the bus, the commuters were somehow pleased at the unexpected intervention of the man, but his rude presentation impregnated the atmosphere with grumblings. They came across series of roadside hawkers, running after the bus in the vain determination of getting their goods bought, and the commuters, too, salivated to get hold of some of those items, but the man beside me kept yelling; ‘DON’T STOP, DRIVER!’. The helpless passengers including me had to swallow spits in empty hopes. Finally, there came a reason to stop. In between the long narrow parallel bushes that outlined the edges of the road, some helpless travelers were trying to hike down a motor, a particular old woman appeared extremely helpless and weak. She engaged all her strength in waving down any approaching automobile. The driver became piteous of the woman and made attempts to engage his brakes, but the squeaking Mr. rush shrieked promptly. ‘Don’t stop!’ He yelled, ‘don’t stop for anything at all.’ ‘Buuu…buh…?’ The confused driver attempted ‘I’ve paid you, so don’t you even dare stop!’ Accumulated disagreements erupted in the bus in murmurs. “As they say,” I thought, “he who pays the piper must dictate the tune.” The driver ended up stomping the accelerator hard, with an obvious frown, which showed that the event was apparently against his will. As the bus raced through the bushes around, only the rushing man seemed interested in the mad speed, many of the other commuters who could not cope improvised by sleeping. I observed a permanent mischievous grin on the man’s face. Suddenly, a cringing sound was immediately followed by a faster speed of the car. In few minutes, a similar noise ensured a greater ease. The third time it happened, the man had focused his eyes in the right direction just in time to observe the occurrence. – Nuts holding the front tyre of the bus was bolting out one by one, and when the third one relieved itself, a greater ease was felt by simple observation. ‘Driver?’ The man spoke quietly, ‘Did you hear that?’ ‘Yes,’ a grining response. ‘What is it?’ The, now curious man, asked. ‘I don’t know’ The driver lied, and almost as he finished speaking, another nut sprang into the tarred road. With the dangerous speed still maintained, the tyre now making a disturbing grinding sound against the tarred road, waking many of the sleeping commuters. ‘Driver! See!’ The man shrieked again, ‘The bolts of the tyre beneath us is loosing! The …’ ‘No problem Sir…’ an unperturbed driver responded, still maintaining the speed of the automobile. ‘Your business deal in Onitsha would not condone lateness’
As the man tried to feign courage, the tyre beneath him and i suddenly gave way and caused that side of the bus to crash to the ground. However, the driver did not stop speeding.
‘This is insane!’ The man yelled. ‘You would get us killed!’
Although afraid, i could only laugh at the scenario. ‘This is cool driver, please don’t stop!’
‘Don’t what?!!!’ an extremely afraid hasty man responded in his highest pitch, ‘please stop this bus right now!’
‘Your business deal sir,’ the driver kept saying as he stroked his heavy beard with a free hand gently.
‘Please in the name of God, just stop this bus right now!’
‘Are you sure?’ The driver asked.
The man was sweating profusely despite the overwhelming airy atmosphere, i had curled up into a safe end that saved him from feeling the heat of a burning tyre from the back, which the man was now obviously feeling.
‘Please driver, just stop the bus now!!!’ [url]read more [/https://rhaptionary..com.ng/search/label/Jokes ]

Life Is A Joke.

In the bathroom,, you had watched yourself through the mirror brush your teeth enthusiaistically. One would wonder why you paid so much attention to your teeth that morning like a child who had been told to brush his teeth before he could get the chocolate bars that had been kept in the fridge. You knew why. You would be smiling to a lot of congratulations today.
You had even gone ahead to hug the gateman who greeted everyone in your compound but you. He could decide to go ahead and spit a lot of - "I dey mad" on your face but you wouldn't mind. Today was a good day.
The promotion had come as a surprise to everyone. You the least favorite. You the wall flower. You who was used to a lot of bashing and insults. You who was used to hearing - "You are a good for nothing". You who had gotten lucky. You who would be heading a new department.
* * *
The morning had been busy and so were the roads. In the public transport you had boarded,, you had been day dreaming about the reception you would be getting at the office. No more - "You there" but now - "Yes Ma'am" ,, "Excuse me ma'am". It was too good to be true.
It was to quick to be true. The bus driver had been lost in his thoughts also,, suffering from a depression and the gnawing frustrations from the too many responsibilities with no solutions hovering over his head,, he hadn't seen the trailer ahead of him slow down. It was too late to navigate the fast moving vehicle to a different direction. Gbam. He crashed into the trailer.
You had woken up few feets away from the now wrecked vehicle from which you had been flunged due to the impact. You had thanked your maker,, lucky to be alive. Your excitement about your promotion hadn't made you aware of the lifeless body on the ground wearing the same clothes you wore that morning.
You had adjusted your dress as soon as your office building came into sight. You had walked into the building like a model in a pageant would. You had started smiling,, expecting the congratulations but none came. You had asked the secretary at the front desk what was wrong wondering if they hadn't heard the news of your promotion but she had looked on ahead like she couldn't see you. You had tried to touch her and your hand went through her.
Realization dawned on you and you started to shake visibly. You tried to touch her again but she wouldn't feel. You scream,, wishing for this nightmare to be a dream. You had endured five years of hostility and abuse and now the first congratulations you got was from death? You feel dizzy and then you pass out.
You woke up panting heavily to the sound of your alarm clock. Beads of sweat trickled down your forehead as you reached for your bedside table where you kept a small calendar. You hurriedly checked the date on your calendar - 11/11/11. You breathed a sigh of relief. It was the day you were to resume your new office. It had all been a dream. A bad dream.
You tried to get down from the bed but your body won't let you. You couldn't feel your body even when you tried getting up. You wonder what's wrong.
11/11/11,, your alarm did go off but your eyes won't open.
You had died in your dream.
And sleep had said congratulations to you also but you hadn't smiled.


#Fiction

2.Barrister Akpors and the Village Farmer

Barrister Akpors who’s gone to the village for Xmas celebration went hunting in a nearby village.
He shot and dropped a bird, but it fell into a farmer’s field on the other side of a fence.
As Barrister Akpors climbed over the fence, an elderly gentleman asked him what he was doing.
He responded, “I shot a duck and it fell in this field, I’m going in to retrieve it.”
The old farmer replied, “This is my property, and you are not coming over here.”
Arrogant Akpors said, “I am one of the best trial attorneys in this country, and, if you don’t let me get that duck, I’ll sue you and take everything!”
The old farmer smiled and said, “Apparently, you don’t know how we do things here. We settle small disagreements like this with the Three-Kick Rule.”
Barrister Akpors asked, “What is the three-Kick Rule?”
The Farmer replied, “Well, first I kick you three times and then you kick me three times, and so on, back and forth, until someone gives up.”
Barrister Akpors quickly thought about the proposed contest and decided that he could easily take the old farmer.
He agreed to abide by the local custom.
The old farmer slowly walked up to him.
His first kick planted the toe of his heavy work boot into Akpor’s groin and dropped him to his knees.
His second kick nearly wiped Akpors’ nose off his face.
Barrister Akpors was flat on his belly when the farmer’s third kick to a kidney nearly caused him to give up.
He eventually summoned every bit of his will and managed to get to his feet and said,
“Okay, you old farmer, now it’s my turn.”
The farmer smiled and said,
“Now, I give up. You can have the duck.”

Moral: No matter how well educated you are, RESPECT YOUR ELDERS!

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