₦airaland Forum

zeezahbee:
Waiting for part 2. Am sure u might not even get any food at bodmas wedding

qbd2:
Hmm, waiting for d part two. Btw, is this a fiction or reality story?

Rejoice with those that are rejoicing. That was this case when my long time friend, Bode a.k.a Bodmas told me he would be getting married. I wasn’t shocked at all because the guy was old. At 34, he sure should be planning of settling down. He got admission at the age of 29. We just graduated, when people like us are waiting to go for NYSC. Him sef don pass the age to serve. His brother in Bauchi helped him to get a job in that state. So him don forget about service. He don get job while we go wait, serve, come start to dey find work. Well, I wasn’t surprised because he was getting old. But I began wondering, it was so fast. Barely 3 months we left school, he’s getting married. ‘Who give am money,’ I thought to myself. Or maybe the guy don do me maga. He was my roomie and I could remember he always complained of not having money almost all the time. For that hostel, na biscuit and water we take know bodmas. He takes biscuit and water for breakfast and same for dinner. I won’t forget during our first semester examination. One of those days, we were on our way to school when he began vomiting garri and groundnut in front of so many students at the school bus park. Most times, I paid for his breakfast, lunch and dinner. All that made me surprised to how he got the money to have his wedding.

As bodmas was telling me about his wedding, I didn’t waste time to tell him, all the money I spent on him in school, that day of his wedding would be the day I will recover them. Not in monetary value but in food. I wan chop till I tire. He laughed as I said it before dropping the call. After dropping the call, I began wondering while Bauchi. Why is it not Lagos or Ibadan, or even Portharcort, that would even be manageable. But Bauchi! The distance from warri to the place would be much.

I began preparations for my boy, bodmas’s wedding.

I began making enquiries on how to get to Bauchi. I was told it would take up to 27 hours to get to Bauchi from warri. Naso I begin swear for Bodmas. Must I spend 27 hours on the way before I eat his wedding rice! Because I don’t want what happened at his sister’s wedding to repeat itself. After spending over N10,000 to Abuja, not even N5 pure water was offered to me. The families of the groom fought throughout the wedding. But I thank God I escaped injury at the event. I could have received several punches.

I don’t just want to spend over 30 hours on the road, stopping at Kano and then taking another bus to Bauchi. I was lucky enough that a friend asked me to join one of their relatives that was taking their children to Yankari games reserve in Bauchi. So I could even pay less. I decided to join them. Arrangements were made and I was told to come as early as 5:30am the morning we would leave.

The day came and I arranged my belongings. I made sure I came out at the junction they would meet me. When the bus came to the junction and stopped for me to enter. I discovered it was a 15 seater bus and all seats were occupied. “Where I go come seat down nah,” I asked. a row meant for 3 people is been occupied by 5 people. “I thought you people said there was enough space. Where I go come sit down now. Where the space?” I asked standing like a confused person. The driver had to tell the woman and her children at the second row to adjust for me to seat. They adjusted and I entered and sat. A seat meant for 3 people were occupied by 6 people, 2 adults, 3 teenage girls and a little boy. We were just packed like sardine. I wasn’t confortable. I thought of coming down from the car but I had another thought, “what if I come down, it’s not sure I would get another car going to my destination. It was definitely going to be a delay.” I had to manage it, plus the offensive odour in the bus. I had to wind down the window glass were I was seated. I didn’t even know who told them to wind up when there was no air conditioner in the bus. I was blaming myself for conceding to the decision to join the bus in the first place. We had just started the journey and my buttocks had already started aching me. ‘Only God knows if my buttocks would still be with me before we get to Bauchi.’ I wondered.

I prayed that God should sustain me till I get to Bauchi because with the state I was, only him could help. Looking at the faces of people I was travelling with, they looked like people heading to sambisa forest. Majority of them were so dark in complexion that they could be likened to darkness. One of the young girl sitting at the seat behind me, looking at the tribal marks on her face, one has no choice but to curse people who gave her the mark. They practically designed her face with marks. Infact it’s no longer tribal mark, that was punishment.

The woman who was seating on the row I was. She couldn’t even control her children. Na so one who I guessed was the youngest reciting “A is for apple.” He turned to me:

“uncle,” as he tapped me and said.

“My name is Ese and I am 6 years old and the name of my school is Umukoro comprehensive primary and secondary school, Sapele.”

I began wondering who asked him all what he’s saying. As I even asked him.

The little boy tapped me again, “Uncle, should I read A is for apple,” he said. Na so I look this boy. I nearly provoke. If not that he was a little boy, I would have slapped him. no be that him own dey do me. I just ignored him. He continued reading. Before I knew what was happening, his teenage siblings joined him. They had practically turned the car into church choir, they have created their own project fame in the bus. The noise they were making was disturbing and the driver couldn’t tell them to keep quiet. Na so I call their mama, tell her say them dey disturb the whole place with noise pollution. They totally ignored me and continued their noise and chanting. Unfortunately I wasn’t with my phone ear piece. I had to shout at the driver to caution the woman and her children. ‘That no be there papa car wey dem they make noise inside.’ that was where I realized that the driver was their dad and they were all going to yankari game reserve. Chaiii. I just realized that I was on a long thing. The man sef is a weakling. He couldn’t even tell his wife and kids to keep quiet.

To make matters worse, they brought out one big food flask full of rice. Immediately they opened it, the smell that came out was like a rotten. I began imagining, “so this people will eat this.” The smell of that food can even send someone to early grave talkless of swallowing it. But I watched as their mother dished it into plates for the children. They were just gobbling the food into their mouth. They were really enjoying it. The youngest of them took a spoon of the rice and stretched to their dad. He opened his mouth and swallowed it. “Hmmm, you people should keep my own for me ooo,” their dad said. “Keep your own for you!” I thought to myself. Shey this man wan die. Even the one he ate, I am worried because he’s the driver, I don’t want him to die on the steering.

I was engulfed in fear. With that kind of food eaten by this people, I was waiting for any of the kids to start shouting, “mummy my stomach” or any of them collapsing and dyeing. Infact, after eating the food, they all fell asleep. Except for the driver. I was scared, I thought they have died. The food done kill them. I considered the food to be poison. 2 hours gone after the meal, the kids were still sleeping. I thought the food had killed them.

They finally woke up. I felt relieved. Maybe they have a special digestive tract that digest that kind of poison. “if they can be eating this kind of thing outside, only God knows what they would be eating at their home,” I thought to myself.

I thought I was done with bad smell from the rice they ate. Not until couple of hours later, the mum brought out palm oil beans from another food flask. When she opened the food flask, the odour from this was more corrosive than the rice they ate. And I began wondering what kind of spices they use in cooking their food; maybe they use toilet water sef, because the beans smells like toilet water. Well, since they ate the other one, I know they can still eat the beans. ‘Their stomach would digest it’ I thought to myself.

But I wasn’t confortable right there because the smell had turned my system apart. I started having running stomach. What did one expect? After inhaling all those odour from the poison they were eating. I turned to see if other passengers were feeling what I was feeling. But they were looking calm. I couldn’t hold it anymore. I had to tell the driver plainly that I want to throw up, he should stop. He did. I rushed out and I almost vomited my intestine. They were all telling me “sorry.” The driver got me water. I was so angry with him. he should just tell his wife to stop polluting my system rather than telling me sorry.

After a short while, we went back into the car. Thank God they(driver’s family) have finished eating their poison. The journey continued. I couldn’t wait to get to my destination.

When I finally got to Bauchi, I was so happy. God had given me freedom and deliverance from people who nearly killed me inside their car. Bodmas came to pick me from the park.

http://www.hovabuzz.com/frontline/1000-my-unfavourable-experience-inside-the-car-travelling-to-bauchi-for-a-friend-s-wedding

The android hype was high that I was enticed to start thinking of getting a new phone, android OS precisely. Few of my close friends are using android phones. But I began considering my pocket. I want to change my phone, I wanted a cool android phone but I didn’t know which make.

Even though some few I had seen had been complaining of how android phones sucks that data. But I was determined of getting one. I want to join the league of android users.

One Tuesday morning, I was in the class when a friend of mine approached me that he wants to sell his phone. And it was android phone, HTC OneV. I jumped up from the chair I was seating, like a child who his mother just returned from the market with a cup of ice-cream for him. “I want to buy it,” I screamed at him. We negotiated till it got to N10,000 and he agreed. The phone was still clean and sizeable. I love my phones note too large in inches. I got it. “I am now an android user,” I thought to myself.

I began using my new Htc OneV android phone. I love the sleek nature of the phone with great camera capture and brightness that makes picture quality taken so clearly amazing and admirable. Even though it has low memory that makes the phone easily hangs, battery life drains faster and it easily gets hot and hangs. But still, I stuck to it. I so much love the camera quality that virtually all events I find myself, I took pictures that makes people wants to steal the phone when they go through my photo galleries. It made couple of my friends start buying Htc phones. They go for Htc desire series, which is higher that my small OneV. Well, I had no money to go for a higher one. I was still managing my Htc OneV, praying and hoping that God should provide someone that will just bless me with their latest Htc M8. As I was praying and hoping that I got a new Htc phone, my junior sister who is into event planning came visiting. She didn’t just go empty handed. The only thing he took was my Htc OneV. I had promised to get her a phone but when I didn’t have money, I had to lay low. It really hurt me how she collected the phone. She had been eyeing it for a long time. She took it and left my sim and memory card on my table. Not after seeing her off that I came back and discovered it. It was a blow to me. My fine Htc OneV was gone.

I began strategizing, planning on how to get a new phone, Htc make precisely. I have fallen in love with the Htc brand. And Htc M8 was my target. I began saving money. 6months gone, I was yet to save up to N3,000 for my Htc m8 phone. My education was diverting my money and I was just left with a non-browsing phone. I had missed surfing the internet for a long time. I had missed taking photos. I planned on using my next semester tuition fees to buy my dream phone but I began thinking it would be a bad idea.

I was returning from school one evening when a friend of mine approached me. He said one of his friend was in need of money urgently so he wants to sell his Htc m8 he just bought. I hissed at him because he approached me at the wrong time. I didn’t have money to buy the money. He told me it was just N20,000. “N20,000,” I screamed in surprised. “Can I see the phone,” I said to him. He brought the guy and the phone. The phone was still clean and “brand new” was written all over it. The owner said he bought the phone some 2 weeks back but he was selling it because he needed money urgently. Well I told them that I can’t afford N20,000. The owner asked how much I can afford. I told them I could 0nly afford N8,000. In fact the money sef, is not with me but I would have to borrow it. I was determined to borrow money to get that phone. I didn’t want the opportunity to pass me buy. I considered the incident a great opportunity.

The guys said I should try and make it up to N10,000 and they would give me the phone. The phone would be mine. That was how I began looking for money ooo. I went and borrowed N10,000 to get the phone. The phone and the charger were handed to me. we tested it and everything, app was working normally. I was so happy that I had gotten my dream phone, Htc M8. I never knew that buying that phone was acquiring problems, debt.

I got home and inserted my browsing sim and browsed for about 2hours. The phone was giving me “battery low” signal. Fortunately, there was Electricity. I plugged my new Htc m8 phone to power source and went to sleep. I slept for 2 hours, woke up to make use of the phone only to discover that the phone was off. I switched it on but it refused to on. Unfortunately, the phone was so hot. ‘Chaiii, I don enter one chance. Have I been duped or was it a fake phone?’ were thoughts and other thoughts running through my mind.

24 hours gone, my new phone refuse to on. The screen was blank after charging for hours. I was so devastated that I returned it the seller. The original seller of the phone told me that he can’t return my money to me. I told him I don’t want the phone again. he said he can only escort me to where he bought the phone but will not return the money I paid to him. Well, I followed him to the shop he bought it and they said they never gave warranty for the phone. For God’s sake, how can there not be warranty for a phone like that. They said what they could do was to take it to a repairer in which they did. Well, we followed him and when the repairer opened the phone, we discovered the shock of our life. Lumps of eba were used to glue some wires inside the phone. Stones and sands were also found inside the phone. The guy repairing the phone said he needed a sum of N32,000 to make the phone start working perfectly. And I asked myself how much I used in buying the phone that I would cough out N32,000 to repair it. The main guy who bought the phone that sold it to me said he wasn’t ready to spend a dime. That means I and the phone are on our own.

I was so pained. I began regretting. I had been duped. I was given a fake Htc m8 that lasted for just about 3 hours. I just wasted my money. Not really my money but the one I borrowed, putting me into debt.

Well, now I have started seeing advertorials online of the Htc One m9 which is out and I would seriously love to have it. But where is the money. It took me months to save a few thousands of naira which didn’t even get up to 5% of the amount of m8. Now the One m9 is out, I hope it won’t take me years to save up to the amount of the phone. And I also hope the one I would get, fufu or amala or even egusi won’t be found inside.

mrakin:
The best man I will truly miss is the Minister for Agriculture. Akinwunmi. The good technocrat

I peeped into the front row seat, a newspaper was on. “Abi dem don dey book space with newspaper again,” I said. Everyone in the car laughed. They were laughing, I wasn’t. It wasn’t funny, I need to be in Abuja before the end of the day. One of the workers in the park dragged me to a corner and began explaining to me that all seats had been filled. And the man at the front seat that I was talking with that look like osama, he’s a favourite customer. Each time he’s travelling, he usually buys 2 seats in front just for convenience. He seats in one and his newspaper on the other one. But that day, he bought 3. Two in front and one behind. He kept a small pulse on the seat behind, while he and his newspaper occupied the front seat.

I looked at the worker as he explained. The tangled hair on his head caught my attention. They looked like pawpaw seeds as he was explained; they were just story for the angels to believe. So passengers don dey book seat for their newspaper sef. Then, I wished I became an angel, or even a wizard that can fly. I needed to be in FCT that day. As I was there contemplating on what to do, the third bus had already started moving gradually, leaving the park. With my bag filled with unripe plantain and crayfish meant for my wife’s landlord in Abuja. I carried the bag and heading towards the gate. The third bus had finally left the park. I believed no car in any park would be going to Abuja that kind of time. My best bet was to leave and come back early enough the next morning.

As I left the park, on getting outside, I saw that the third bus had stopped. One of the passengers waved at me to come. “Wetin dem wan tell me,” I thought to myself. I felt they wanted to mock me again. With grudges i moved towards them. “Hurry up na,” the driver shouted. “Hurry up keh. Where I dey hurry dey go! The car wey no carry me na im I dey hurry go meet,” I said. I got there and the driver said that the Osama man has said I should take the space of his pulse behind him, so I can join the bus. The osama man said that I must carry his pulse till we get to our destination. Well, I looked at it. What was there in carrying a pulse! is it not to just carry it on my palms till we get to Abuja. “Of course I can do it,” I said to him as other passengers laughed. “I have valuables worth over a million naira so be careful and I don’t want anything missing,” the Osama man said. So because you get over millions of naira inside one pulse, person no go hear word. I began wondering, if he was so rich, why not take a plane to Abuja. Infact how come that kind of small pulse has about a million naira.” I wondered.

Na so I join the car oo come Carry the man pulse.

We were approaching Lokoja when the Osama man asked the driver to stop that he was pressed and want to urinate. The driver told him to exercise a little patience so we enter Lokoja fully so for those who would want to eat will do that and some other things. The Osama man refused entirely and threatened to urinate inside the car if the driver doesn’t stop. Some other passengers asked him to exercise a little patience, we were almost at Lokoja. The place we were was not comfortable enough, with the people selling snacks and other items. But Osama man no gree. The driver had to stop and he got down. We waited as he went to urinate. Na so this man urinate finish, he no wan come in again. He went to where they are selling gala. We were still waiting and patient. Na so this man was moving from store to store looking for gala. Passengers inside the car began complaining. Because there was gala virtually in all the stores. The driver went out of the car approaching him.

“Oga, wetin you dey find,” the driver said.

“Na gala I wan buy,” the osama man replied.

On hearing that, most of us in the car became vexed.

“So na gala this man dey find wey he just keep us hear since dey wait,” a female passenger screamed. “No be gala full everywhere so. Abi na another kind of gala from heaven him dey find!” Another passenger said. The driver wasn’t that happy anymore.

Driver--- Oga, buy wetin you wan buy make we begin move na.

Osama man--- I never see original one.

Chaiii, se me see wahala ooo. Shey gala dey get fake!

Driver--- no be gala full every were soo.

Osama man – all those ones no get NAFDAC number. Some sef don expire sef.

On hearing this, everyone in the car busted into laughter. “Na dis one we come enter today!” the woman behind me said. The osama man was determined to get his original gala. He was moving from one shop to another. When he picks up any gala, he checks the label for expiry date, he drops and checks another. If it doesn’t please him, he drops it and moves into another shop.

The driver was obviously angry. He threatened to leave him and go. But the osama man was still adamant. He told the driver to leave if he wants. Me never see character like this since I start to dey board car.

Finally, after minutes of waiting, the Osama man was trekking back to the car with a gala. I guessed he was able to see the one with SON, NAFDAC number which has not expired. I began to wonder, so after the long wait. Na only one gala N50 he buy. Immediately he entered the car, he began giving foolish apology. No one responded to him. “Make una come chop oo” he said as he tore open the gala. No one responded. I wondered, “shey na N50 gala all of us inside car go come share chop?” I thought to myself. why is he calling us to come eat gala.

We got to the main town, Lokoja. We got down at one of the eateries to eat and get some other few things. After about 30minutes of the eating’s, buying’s and all, the driver came back and passengers started coming into the car. Na so we begin to wait for Osama man oo. “Where is he! Where has he gone to?” we wondered. Or is it not the same eatery we entered to eat! After about 25minutes of wait, we sighted the Osama across the other side of the road prizing banana. The driver was so angry that he asked those who were yet to come into the car to come in. He drove to the other side to meet the Osama man. The driver asked him to come inside that there was no time, and we had been waiting for him. “Abeg make una wait joor. These plantain no ripe. I dey find soft fine plantain,” the Osama man screamed. Everyone in the car began shouting at him to get into the car, he was wasting our time. I began regretting entering that car. I should have obeyed my other voice in me that told me to stay back and travel the next day.

Na so we wait for the Osama man till he bought his N150 banana. He also said he wanted to poo. He went back to the eatery and spent about 30minutes. I guessed he was releasing all he had ate since 2 weeks. “I can’t wait for our car to get to Jabi for me to get down and leave.

The car got to Jabi in Abuja, some of us stopped there. As I was getting down, I dropped the pulse the Osama man gave to me on the seat I left and thanked him. He immediately came down of his seat and asked me to wait that he wants to search his pulse to confirm if everything was intact and nothing was missing. I didn’t bother waiting or even listened as he called me. I just took my bag, find a taxi and left. Person no get rest of mind say one Mr Osama dey inside car.
http://www.hovabuzz.com/frontline/965-the-day-i-travelled-with-osama-my-weird-experience