READ: A Night of Revolt


January 2013 was the year I was preparing for my 400l biochemistry finals, tensions were high, students were now in the reading hysteria ( we read for 26hrs a day)

, just not to fail a course (we sometimes do this for E in a course).
Anyways, this writeup is about a very peculiar night that I HD a quarrel with a bus driver. I had been on campus for a little over 50hrs when I decided to go stock up for the next round and I headed for my off campus lodge.
I boarded this N40 bus amidst the driver’s cries of “Enter with your change o” with N50 in my possession. The journey started and the driver went all snappy on passengers who tendered N200 for N20 fare and even didn’t collect his fare from 2 passengers to prove his point.
He stopped close to my bus stop to refuel his bus and then on to my bus stop. I alighted and handed the driver (who by the way is in his late 40s or early 50s) my N50 to collect N10 in return, only for him to bark at me “Sebi mo ni kosi change, o de rimi ti mora epo odelefunmi nigbayen ( I thought I told you I don’t have change, and you saw me buy fuel and you couldn’t give me the money to make change)”
Now, I need you all to realise that N10 is a change we usually leave behind for a trader, motorcyclist, conductor, even beggar. If he had nicely said “Moo dewani change ( And I don’t have the change) I would have walked away and he would have been N10 richer.
In the midst of his rant, I cut him off telling him “I don’t when N50 is such a huge amount that I can’t tender it for a N50 for a N40 fare, not forgetting you’ve been out all day with your bus then it gets late and all your change disappears. Anyways, if this is the way you talk to your kids at home, know that I am not your child and I will father you here now (I said it all in Yoruba English tho)”. It was at this juncture a lady in the bus gave me N10 and begged me to just walk away, which I did.
I had not gone more than 4 steps when I heard the driver’s door open and slam shot. I was scared and it seemed adrenaline had evaded me, even epinephrine even went on strike. Then I heard his footsteps stomping towards me, was to scared to look back and was scrolling through a series of manoeuvres to use from my days in mixed martial arts class (last attended in 2004), then I pulled on tighter to my backpack and continued my uncertain destination walk.
Suddenly, I felt him grab my backpack and instinctively, I detached meself from it and I did a 180 degree twist slap kick which landed on his neck. Now there were series of reactions, and we shall go through all of them:
1) Victim: “Ye, ye, ye, ye (a fence broke his fall, slid down to his buttocks and sat there)
2) Bike men at the junction: “Ah! Oti pa baba” (one walks towards me)
3) Passengers: “Ah! Afigba ti baba yi te” (some started looking for another bus to board)
4) Me: went to him while seated by the fence, picked my backpack, was walking away and saw a biker walking towards me, I turned and looked at him, he went his way and so did I.
5) Bystanders: just looked on..
I’m not proud of that night, yet I don’t regret it because I remembered my training after 8 years of practice. Please do know that I abhor violence and this is tagged self defense from an assault and if the driver is reading this (which I doubt) I’m truly sorry for that night. Safe

Memoirs of a Pensioner’s son, not Edited nor proof read, just poured out. safe


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