Dozing on Awolowo Road..

By: Gbenga Awomodu

It's 4:30pm and yippee… it's closing time! I quickly shut down my workstation and make sure the UPS is off. Set. Go! I hurry down the stairs from third floor and unto the evening traffic on Idowu Taylor, a popular street on Victoria Island and move to Engineering bus stop to join the waiting crowd eager to jump into the next available bus. Usually, if you don't get a bus by 4:40pm, it's advisable you start making your way towards IGI where you are more likely to get a bus without having to struggle bitterly. Today is good. Really good. I am in by 4:37pm and this may as well mean getting back to school before 5:30pm. In about two minutes the bus is full and we are headed towards Adeyemo Alakija. The driver takes a right turn, then a left turn, and heads towards the bridge linking Muri Okunola Park to Awolowo Road. The driver has three route options – Bonny Camp, Awolowo Road, and Secretariat. He has chosen the Awolowo route. After manoeuvring past several vehicles, he moves to the right side of the zip – like division on the overhead bridge linking the Muri Okunola Park on Victoria Island to the narrower Awolowo Road, an office – laden commercial street. I am usually not so comfortable with confinement. Neither do I fancy delays in hold – ups/go slows. The driver appears to have inkling that some of us needed some form of distraction because from the bus stereo, I could hear music – soft rock, Rhythm n Blues, foreign oldies from one of the local radio stations. This moderately old rickety bus is decorated with fast fading colours – green on the bottom half and white on the top half. Thick black soot has settled from the ever smoky exhaust from the numerous 'wonder' vehicles that ply this route… I am about to start my dozing routine when, suddenly, I see something, someone actually, that grabs my attention. Right there in front of me is a young dark lady. From my estimation, she is in her early twenties. Spotting a made – In – Naija Chelsea FC jersey, she is armed with a circular wooden plank covered with a transparent white nylon. She must have used this fixed asset to sell bread all day – mobile shops like these are not rare on Lagos streets, even though the Lagos State Ministry of Environment has started a major crack down on street trading and hawking on Lagos roads, especially in traffic. I can see her dozing and nodding haphazardly. Her doze is alarming as her head gyrates and springs sideways, back and forth with no definite angle of inclination – like a diehard spring … her neck is now as inelastic as a flabby spring that has suddenly defied Hooke's law! I am scared to the teeth that the neck would break off and the head would cut off too… that she would suddenly nod the front seat or the seat frame behind her… reminds me of the elasticity displayed by many Cartoon characters, especially Tom and Jerry…
This mobile bread seller is tired! I can see it. Her eyes and body language betray her. Occasionally, she shakes her head profusely like a fainting fowl being treated to Paracetamol… Odeshi! The shaking is reminiscent of the kameti Salah ram that has just been hit hard and immediately retreats to shake off the pressure and clear his head and eyes… but she soon gives in to nature's demand the millisecond after… Her head ricochets! As the driver approaches the nearest traffic light, the green light suddenly changes coat to orange and finally gives a red grin… He stops in front of the traffic light and in front of the entrance to a filling station…Pronto! He negotiates with the driver of a private car, parked at the petrol station, who then re – parks. Our dear driver zooms diagonally across the filling station killing two birds with a stone!

POST SCRIPT:
This story is based on one of my encounters on my way to Obalende from Victoria Island en route Awolowo Road. Every day, as I went to work and returned, I saw a lot of things and a lot of people. I saw a lot of people who were either dozing or sleeping. There was the bank executive sleeping at the back of the car while his/her driver faced the rigour of Lagos traffic. In the public buses other workers followed suit. They probably resume 7:30am and close 4:30pm, but live so far from their respective offices that they often get home as late as 9:00pm, sleep by 10:30pm and are up again by 4:30am. And the cycle continues… I ask myself: Is the (Lagos) stress worth it? People complain about the working condition and some even swear never to go to that office again…
The next day they are up again – first to appear at the office gate! Is it the love for work, or that affection and care for our children and family, or love for our nation and her development? Are we just going through the motions or do we have strategic goals we are working towards? Is there any projected exit point, or we just go blindly after money? What gives us joy and fulfillment? Are we involved in working where our passion lies? Or is it a case of 'doing what we have to do to ensure that we can do what we really want to do?' Are we adding significant value every day of our lives? My head is ringing!