WISE FOOL

             “A fool always has something to say, while the wise one keeps the golden silence”

                        Dodo

                                                ONE

He came into the bus, puffing and staring suspiciously at everyone inside the old rickety Toyota bus. He arrogantly refused to sit on a seat behind; where I was patiently sitting with two other passengers. The conductor a tough looking youth with rough look and a hard tough voice had asked him to climb in.

     “No! I can’t sit behind” Our new passenger had replied stubbornly. I noticed his right hand, was constantly guarding the right hand pocket of his trouser and seem never wanting to be touched by anyone.

  ‘Make we go now – abi na only him be the passenger “One of the passengers quarreled angrily in pidgin.

  “Oga please enter and save our time. What is wrong with sitting behind? Are we not people like you?” The passenger close to me asked, hissed and mopped his sweaty face with his palm.

 “No problem you can go, but I am not sitting behind.” The new passenger insisted stubbornly, making to join another bus at the busy bus stop.

 “Enter oga, there is space here.” The passenger sitting directly in front of us suddenly offered, making more room for the new passenger to sit down.

“Thank you my friend” The new passenger said, eyes the seat suspiciously and then finally humped into the bus, his right hand still protecting his right pocket tightly.

Almost everyone in the bus hived a sign of relieve as the driver engaged gears and droved back into the moving mid afternoon traffic.

The day was one of those hot sunny afternoons, when the sun decides to show it face in a furious mood. Going about in a commuter bus daily from one office to another, in search of my daily bread, was not something new to me. What option did I like most of my fellow poor starving country men and women have, than to daily hop about in dead rickety buses on our way to our different strives.

 The economy was really getting more depressing and things like joining a taxi, was almost becoming impossible for the average citizen. So going about in cheap buses was our only means of cheap transportation. Old and out of date buses, where helpless passengers are crammed like sardines, suffering and smiling, like my late country music legend Fela rightly defined.

I  sat silently, my head constantly peeping out  to catch some fresh air and take a glance at many suffering faces of my fellow country men and women  who roam about in the hot heat in search of how to survive for the day, under one of the most  toughest economy environment in a rich nation. I sat thoughtfully, as the bus rode on, stopping here and there to pick or drop a passenger. I noticed that the arrogant passenger was not finding it too comfortable the way he was constantly made to get up for a passenger to either get in or drop off.

 “Look I am tired with this stand up and sit down. Come what is wrong with you?” He finally demanded angrily.

“ Oga  me too I don tire with you o. why you no go sit down for back, abi the people wey dey back no be people like you? “ The conductor suddenly busted out, loosing his already accumulated patience.

“Come relax – wetin be your problem - why you dey talk to dis oga like dis , abi you dey craze’ The passenger who had offered the man a seat, suddenly barked at the conductor, to everyone surprise. “ No mind am oga , come dis side, make I sit down for your place” The kind passenger suggested, standing up from his seat.

“Thank you my brother – God bless you” The arrogant passenger answered gladly and they both swapped their seats. The kind passenger was now sitting on his right side. I noticed his right hand was now out of his pocket and was now in a relaxed mood.

I sat back and waited for the reply from the conductor, knowing conductors in this town, don’t normally take barking from passengers in their ‘office’; as they now coined their buses. It is nothing strange when you enter a bus and the first thing you notice are different stickers with different inscriptions, welcoming you. Inscriptions such as Welcome to my office, Please respect your self, or No money – No friend. No Smoking, Glory be to God or pictures of local and international stars, affixed to the windscreens and other parts of the buses.

“ Look Mr. Man – you no go come teach me my job for my office o. Wetin concern you inside dis talk – sabi-sabi” The expected shot finally came from the angry looking conductor, his blood shot eyes glaring with rage at both passengers.

“My guy –e be like say you dey craze o, Na me you dey talk to like dat. Come you no who I be? I go deal with you if you no take time “The kind guy boasted, half rising up threatening from his seat.

“Who you be” You no fit do me anything. All dis na shakara – na today.”  The conductor challenged, calling his bluffs.

“Look Mr. Man – I beg drop if you no want peace, me na peace I take dey work for dis moto – wetin . Haba! Na only una dey dis bus, come no be by force O. If una no wan go , make una drop other passengers dey for road” The driver suddenly quarreled, coming to the aid of his conductor.

“ I beg make una cool down make we reach where we dey go safely. Dis one wey una dey quarrel inside bus like dis” One of the ladies inside the bus pleaded, her face looking tired and so eager to reach her destination.

 I sat quietly, my eyes staring expressionless at the other passengers. I was also tired and eager to drop out of the bus. The tension inside the bus was gradually building up. I feared it might result into throwing punches any moment. A scene I was use to seeing almost every day inside our buses. And right now I was not in the mood to poke noise into other people’s affairs, not especially this kind of cheap stupid fight.

Fighting was now part of our daily existence. Fights over material things due to the harsh economy pressure on the average Nigerian, who was now finding it very hard to survive and interact peacefully with his fellow country men and women.

I sat back and quietly try to comprehend the reason why fighting was now so visible in almost all sphere of our lives. I once again concluded on the theory that “A hungry man – will always be an angry man”. Yes my people are hungry, so they should be angry. Why shouldn’t they, when almost everything seems to be getting worst everyday, without a sign of relieve. I concluded.

I noticed that the fighting party inside the bus had now decided to suspend their cheap barking and that the kind passenger and his arrogant new friend, were now discussing among themselves. I overheard them talking about the weather as I try to make myself comfortable in the tight seat. Why is everything not working in my country? I thought silently wounding why the government can’t provide a good cheap transportation system for the poor populace, just as it is done in other countries around the world.

An organize bus system, where people could queue up, and pay reasonable fares on subsidized prices. Instead of leaving the helpless low income citizens in the hand of over jealous, greedy private transport owners’ in the name of deregulation. I silently wondered why our rail system is still being left to waste away when this system could be revive to help assist the suffering cheap income earners in their transportation problems.

Again I shook my head sadly remembering the news I heard not quite long of greedy saboteurs among my fellow country men who without the fear of God or sympathy for their fellow human beings, have now find business in vandalizing and stealing off some of the railway tracks across the country.

What kind of a wicked and heartless people will go and steal rail lines? God! Things are really getting out of hands. What is really wrong with my dear country? I questioned my self silently again, as the now silent bus speed down the long congested road.

                                                               TWO

Few passengers dropped down happily on the way and two other new ones joined us, grumbling as they were pushed behind and sandwiched among us at the rear. Our two new friends, I noticed had now become so close and were busy exchanging names and addresses. The conductor I noticed on the other hand was still wearing a strong frown, his eyes occasionally stealing wicked glances at both of them.

“Take- bifor Roundabout, I pay for two of us.”

The kind passenger suddenly announced, trusting a fifty naira note at the still angry looking conductor, who snatched the money away with a frown.

“Driver- bifor dey” he announced to the driver and handed the passenger a ten naira change.

“Keep the change I dash you” the kind passenger said, ignoring the change.

“Thank you. I no need your change” the conductor replied, dropping the change carelessly on the man’s lap.

“Thank you my brother-no mind am collect your change…e no deserve am.” The arrogant man said, picked the money and handed it to his new friend, who pocketed the money and grin at the conductor who stares back, his eyes still blazing.

“No problem, just drop me for bifor roundabout...” The kind  passenger said as the bus swing out of the road on nearing the next roundabout.

The kind passenger stood up and bade his new friend good bye. ”Una save journey o” he bade everyone and silently dropped out of the bus. I thought I could see a wide grin on his face as he dropped and confidently cross over the road. Another new passenger soon joins us and the bus rejoined the moving traffic.       

We had hardly traveled few miles when suddenly we all heard a loud shout.

“Stop driver, yeh! My money” This from the arrogant passenger, whose arrogant face now suddenly looked confused and stupid. 

“Driver stop stop!, my money. I can’t find my money- Now! Now! Now!” the man shouted springing up to his feet almost colliding with the passenger in his front.

“Oga wetin again stop for wetin?” The driver asked from the steering, ignoring the man’s hysterical shouts as he continued down the road.

“I say stop, my money- abi you no dey hear stop somebody don steal my money.” The man cried out to our astonishment.

“Stop driver “Some of the passenger finally told the driver who reluctantly swing out of the road again, grumbling with his conductor who angrily opened the door. And we all filled out of the bus silently including the driver.

“Yes wetin dey happen?” he demanded angrily staring at the confused looking arrogant passenger, who was busy emptying all his pockets.

“What is the problem?” another passenger asked walking up to the man.

“My money ten thousand naira, I just collected from the bank –now-now, I can’t find it”

 “Ten thousand naira, where you keep am.?” A passenger asked, staring confusingly at him.

 “Here in my right pocket five- five hundred naira notes. I am just from the bank..Yeh!”

The man screamed and stared at all of us, showing his empty right hand pocket.

“Ha! e don fall Mugu” the conductor announced his face twisting into a satisfactory grin.

“Sorry chief e – be- like say you don fall to pick pockets. Since when you no notice the money again?”

Another passenger asked with a mockery smile.

“I say na now!- now!- now!. Money wey I carry enter dis bus”The man replied peeping back into the bus and searching all the seats.

“Oga you sure say no be that man wey siddon near you pick this your money so.?” I slowly suggested, my eyes assisting in the search going on within the bus.

“Yes! O. It could be true “Another passenger supported my view. “Where did he drop?”

“Drop- forget dat one don waka, shebi na him friend- e go no where he go see am” The conductor said. His face now had a wide grin and mockery look.

“I no know am o. Na today I just meet am che! now! now! now! -ten thousand naira… Five- five hundred naira notes.- che!., dis man don kill me  today” Our arrogant passenger cried out , his eyes stares faraway towards  where  his kind new friend had dropped.

” Well oga – we na go we dey so. You fit rush back go check where the man drop, may be you fit get luck see am. Oya make una enter moto make we dey go, my hour don dey go” The driver finally announced, climbing back into the bus.

The man stared quietly at most of us, then quickly dart across the road and ran panickly towards the roundabout.

I watched him silently as he dashed off and disappeared among the crowd on the busy street. I shook my head and quickly climbed back into the now accelerating bus.

“Na Wah! O and the man was so very nice to him. Kai! Dis country, - na only God go save us. The passenger next to me exclaimed with surprise.

“Na him take him hand buy trouble for himself. Sebi na back I say make e siddon , wey he wan fight me. He think say him get sense - mu- mu – na wise fool.” The conductor happily announced, turning to collect his fares from a passenger.

 “Yes- a wise fool- the arrogant passenger the conductor had rightly christened. He had allowed himself to fall cheaply to an old trick, Swapping seats with a good stranger. Thank God my last fifty naira, my transport fare, was still safely tucked where I had prudently hidden it. I pulled it out and held tightly to it, waiting to reach my destination, before paying, for me to collect my change and avoid any unforeseen embarrassed moment of also becoming a wise fool. I thought silently, as all the passengers now stares suspiciously at each other.

                                               END

Copy Right Ahmed Dodo
2011