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Legend Of A Hustler
Episode #1
" Allah-hu-ak-bar…”
That was my natural alarm telling me to wake up and prepare for a new day. It was 5:30 a.m. I've had this alarm for a very long time that I can't remember for how long and it's in courtesy to the muslims that come to the mosque beside my house every morning. I looked around my dark room and took in the heavy stench of old stuffs. I knelt by my bed to say my prayers, abi naw man gas thank him God for early morning naw?
I was having trouble in deciding what to wear not that I had lots of clothes at my disposal, actually my metal box where I kept my clothes did not have much to offer. Finally I settled for the same jeans I wore the previous day and my old Arsenal jersey [the one with O2 on it],of course my old, ever faithful leather slippers was there to serve as cover for my feet. I almost forgot to brush my teeth but then I remember that my tube of Close Up will be empty by now after using up the remnant yesterday. My only alternative was to settle for a chewing stick. I managed to convince myself that after all chewing stick was what my fore fathers used in their days and they had strong set of teeth. See what being broke has turned me into. I never call myself poor, instead I prefer to say that I'm broke.
I however have a feeling that today is going to be a good day for me. I left my humble abode at exactly 6:13 A.M and headed out to look for my daily bread. Lagos at this time of the morning was getting busy as usual. Cars were cruising past me, they were going to their various offices, well, I'm also going to my "office". I do have an office where I work but unlike some mine does not have walls ,no executive chairs and of course no air conditioner. My office is in the street, actually, the street is my office. And the beauty in it is that I can decide to pitch my office anywhere for the day. So I started my work. Well the scope of my work is not technical. I prefer to refer to myself as an emergency specialist. As an emergency specialist, I help people who are in situations like car break-down. I offer help without asking for money but sometimes I get paid, my mood alone is enough to get my “clients” to pay. Don’t think that it’s a bad occupation, in previous months, I made an average of N5,000 a week, but for about a week and half now, business has been bad

Episode #2
On this blessed Friday, I was yet to see any good “client”. The one I met earlier only paid me a Thank You after I helped her to secure a cab to convey her and her large number of load to Mile 2.I was at Gbagada at 5:15 P.M, I was at Yetunde Brown to be precise, the only thought on my mind was what I was going to eat when I got home, the only thing I’ve eaten since morning was N50 Gala and I drank 2 sachets of sachet water.
Apart from my thoughts, the only sound I could hear was the sound of a motor engine but the sound was dying down as it got closer, that was strange to me. I turned around out of curiousness and I discovered that the driver was easing the car to a stop in a side of the road. At first I thought the driver probably wanted to get something done before proceeding, but then the driver who later turned out to be a She got down. I noticed that she was looking tensed up and she seemed to be dialing someone’s number but she didn’t seem to be getting through. I wanted to move on but something jabbed at my heart and the only word that came to my mind was “Client”. I turned and moved towards her to know what service I would be rendering.
“Good evening madam”
She stared at me for about five seconds before answering, she was obviously startled, I guess.
“Good evening”
“You have a problem with your car?”
“No…I mean yes but someone will be here soon enough to fix it”
“ Oh alright then, I’ll be on my way, have a nice evening”
I was about ten meters away from her car when I heard her call at me.
“Mister…mister”
I turned around.
Then I walked towards her.
“I have a flat tire here and I’ve been trying to call my dad to send his driver but his number is not going through, please do you mind changing the tire? I have a spare in the boot”
Right in my mind I was grateful it was just a spare tire, that wouldn’t be a problem.
“It will be a pleasure madam” I said.
Twenty minutes later, I was done with the changing of the tire.
Now its time to be paid.
A glance at her told me that she was likely to say thank you. Well that’s something I was not going to accept, because I’m going to go to bed with an empty belly for the fourth night in a row, well not that this is my first time of going to bed with an empty belly for four nights in a row, in fact I have experienced worse, but I was not ready to set another record. But seriously how I go take ask her for payment? me wey be sey I no dey ask for payment unless dem pay me. E com be like sey na my mind she dey read because na she com talk sey “Thank you very much mister, where are you headed towards? please let me give you a ride.”
My reply was somehow what I never wanted to say but it did actually save me “You are welcome madam, huhm I’m going home, well if you can call where I stay a home”
“I’m sure it’s a home no matter how it looks, where do you live?”
“I stay around Palmgroove, Shyllon street to be specific”
“Yikes actually I’m headed towards Ikoyi but please let me pay for your transport fare, please”
I pretended to want to refuse, at least to protect my reputation, but trust me, I gave in.
“Alright if you insist”
She was all smiles the moment I said that and I wasn’t expecting it when she said this “Oh please let me give you a ride at least to where you can easily get a cab.
For my mind I dey reason cab ko, cab ni, abeg na danfo go do am jare
When the short ride started, she was the first to start a conversation.
“I’m sorry, I forgot to mention my name, I’m Annie Bode-Williams, yours?
I looked at her for a second, my name was the last thing I expected a client to ask me, this was the first time I’m being asked that question by a client.
“Femi is the name”
“That’s it just Femi, no surname?”
Oh God please, I didn’t bargain for all this, I wish she can just stop the car, pay me, and let me be. But I no fit refuse am naw? Abi after all na she go pay my money naw
“Femi Dokun”
“You can just call me Annie and I hope you don’t mind me calling you Femi?”
“You have all the liberty in the world to call me Femi”
Now I’m getting tired of this conversation, all I want right now is for her to pay me. This young lady is a real talkative. And her next words really turned on my code red.
“Ahem…Femi please I know I shouldn’t be asking, but please give me your mobile number. I know I’m a playful girl and I like making friends”
Hell! this does not look like making friends to me, this looks like she not wanting to just mind her own business and let me be. In fact if not for the fact that I really need the payment I would have asked her to stop the car and just stop killing me with this conversation. But I really need the money. Plus who knows there might be some more clients out there.
I looked at her face briefly and I really can’t explain how the numbers flew out of my mouth “080********”
She didn’t write it down neither did she save it on her phone because she was driving with both hands on the wheels but something told me that she had memorized it. She gave me a small paper that had a number on it.
“Thanks and that’s mine” she said.

Episode #3
As the car pulled up near the spot where you, board buses to Ikeja, Ketu, Berger, yes, right under that bridge, I was really happy that my torment was over, but by that time something deadly had happened, yes really deadly, she had forgotten she promised to pay for my transport, holy cow, I said aloud in mind, and I didn’t have the nerves to remind her of her promise, instead she fed me with some extra trash.
“I really want to return the kind gesture you showed to me today, I mean I don’t know what I would have done if not for you”.
Of course, you wouldn’t have done anything, that I didn’t say aloud of course, but the rest I said aloud,
“Oh, you’ve just done that, I mean the ride, that’s more than enough”
My fingers had automatically held the door handle, and I was about to open it, before this young, beautiful but frustrating lady sais the worst sentence I’ve heard so far today.
“My mom is having a birthday party tomorrow evening, maybe you should drop by”
Was she nuts? Inviting a total stranger to her house, we’ve never met before, so my personality is anyone’s guess, I can as well be a thief, kidnapper or even a serial killer. But I didn’t say all that, instead I replied politely,
“I honestly don’t think, that’s necessary, you’ve already returned the favour, besides, I’ve scheduled some appointment for tomorrow”, now the last part was definitely going to bail me out.
“Don’t worry it’s in the evening, and don’t fool me into thinking a guy like you plays around with his weekend evenings, I’ll call you anyways to know how it’s going to turn out”
Kai this young lady is really messing with the wrong dude.



One hour later…
I was already at home thinking how the day went and how it really contradicted my earlier belief in the morning, now I’m going to sleep with an empty belly.
What usually keeps me going in this kinda situation is the fact that Jesus Christ my Lord and Saviour fasted for forty days and forty nights, and this same dear Jesus said that: If I have faith greater things than what he had done, I will do. So if Jesus didn’t die before forty days, then if I have faith, I can survive forty-one days. But the big question is do I even have enough faith to last me through the night without dying of hunger?
Now something is rumbling in my stomach, sounds like hurricane Sandy to me, or should I name mine Hurricane Akpors? I raised my face towards the ceiling in pain, O boy I go soon die of ulcer if I no chop ooo, that was me telling myself the reality of what is happening,
Lai lai emi ke, I no go die here, I must chop, even if it means spending the last Kobo I have, man no fit die now.
I quickly jumped into my army-uniform-designed shorts and a top that had more lines than the map of Africa. Straight to aboki side na mai shayi things tonight ooo, bread and egg, n im go solve the almighty formula of the war wey dey for my belle.
[ At aboki’s stall]
“Aminu, Aminu, the one and only Aminu. Choi Wolahi Aminu na you be the only original Aminu wey dey for this Nigeria” that’s me hailing Aminu, the mai shayi aboki, with my faked Hausa accent, all these to hail Aminu and make his head “swell” for the sole aim of him adding some “jara” to my bread and egg, and I trust that Aminu will always fall for it.
Anyway sha tonight Aminu no fall oo, as Aminu sef never sell plenty today sef. But I can’t fight him naw, abi n aim get im business, plus if Aminu comot dagger, I go run.
I quietly munched my bread and egg, and gulped a sachet water. I brushed away the dirts on my shorts as I got ready to go home, after paying Aminu of course, but only out of the fear of dagger sha.
If I knew I had been marked for a huge disaster tonight, I wouldn’t have ventured out of my habitat.
“Hey you, come here!” someone shouted, but I didn’t look back.
“Come over here, you buffon!” still I didn’t even turn around.
The next thing I felt was a hot, earth-breaking and thunderous slap on my cheek. I felt unimaginable pain and coupled with the anger I was already nursing, I in turn gave the fellow a nice, ear-deafening slap, before I realized that the fellow is a soldier.
Ye! Mo gbe! Mo ku! my own don be, I don sign my death certificate! I don slap soldier!...