Morning Rush

The shrill cry of my alarm clock woke me up. Its sharp piercing sound pierced through my dream like a knife cutting through a beautifully baked cake. I slammed it shut and forcefully opened my eyes grabbing my phone at the same time. The numbers on my phone glowed angrily at 6:45 am, it read. I dropped my phone and stretched; the effects of a good night's sleep still clung to me like a baby against the mother's breast. I was still not fully aware of my environment. It was as if my brain was still rebooting.

Suddenly "6:45 am!" I yelled as the numbers sank in this time in a fully rebooted brain. I quickly jumped out nearly tripping over my laptop I left on the floor after some late night work.

Hurriedly, I ran into the bathroom, and in record time, I was done bathing and getting set for the day. I slipped into my work clothes, a brown satin blouse and a black pencil skirt that hugged my body a little too tightly. I had forgotten to iron them last night, but I convinced myself the creases would straighten out on the way.

Grabbing my bag, I dashed out the door of my apartment, almost bumping into Mama Chinedu, who was dressed in her usual wrapper tied tightly around her waist and sweeping the corridor in slow but steady strokes.

"Zerah" she called with a brightened smile as she saw me step out of my apartment.

"Sorry Ma'am" I apologized for almost bumping into her. "Good morning, Ma'am", I greeted as I quickly dashed across her, rushing down the stairs two at a time.

"Did you eat at all?" I heard her yell at me. There was concern in her voice.

"There's no time. I'll eat when I get to work. I'm already late" I shouted back without stopping or looking back. I heard her grunt, and then the sound of her broom against the floor came again.

I dashed into the street and ran my way to the junction where I would board a danfo public bus to work. As usual, Lagos was already alive with humans and activities. I joined the chaos, weaving my way through different breeds of humans. Some oozed sweat that early in the morning, and some smelt like a breath of good life. Of course, I love to believe that I was one of those who smelt so good.

I stood at the bus stop with my hands holding tightly to my bag while my fingers tapped its handle impatiently. Every danfo that zoomed by was filled to the brim. A sign of the early morning rush. I wondered within me if the residents of Lagos ever find time to rest.

Suddenly, I spotted a danfo slowing down and coming towards my direction, and I made a run for it, elbowing through commuters who also had intentions of boarding the bus. Don't blame me; in Lagos, there's got to be a little sprinkle of madness deposited in you for you to survive. Trust me I learnt that the hard way in just a few months of my stay there.

"Ikeja, Ikeja!" The bus conductor, a wiry man with bloodshot eyes, yelled. "Hold your change o", he added as the bus jerked to a stop, and he jumped out of the bus, making way for passengers to enter.

I squeezed my way into the back seat. The bus had a stench of sweat and overnight Fufu. Its seat was torn and had its foam protruding like the intestines from a wound. I pinched my nose but sat still. I was already late and had no other option.

The bus filled up immediately, and the conductor swung back into the bus, hanging himself by the door. Then the driver zoomed off into the road in a reckless manner. Shouting and yelling curses at fellow road users.

I looked at my watch; I was a few minutes from being late. I prayed that the driver would speed up a little. Then I looked out of the window watching the city fly by. The traffic was chaotic as usual as cars were manoeuvring lanes, jostling for space. Horns blaring, steadily and unnecessarily. I was tapped by a co-passenger. A young man who was of the same age as me

"Your money," he said.

"Sorry?" I replied, wondering when passengers started collecting dates instead of conductors

"Madam, give me my money, jor!" The conductor yelled at me in a rude manner.

"Calm down na oga, ah!" I fired back at him. I dipped my hands into my bag and handed him a 500-naira note. I watched as he looked at it like it was foreign currency.

“Madam, shey you no hear when I talk say enter with your change? Didn't you hear me announced, enter with your exact fare?” He glared at me, his lips curling in annoyance.

I returned his glare. “Oga, na wetin I get be this.” I knew I was wrong, but I had no choice. Missing this bus meant being late for work and that was going to cost me a slash in my salary.

He turned and looked at other passengers before reporting me to them, "ShebI una dey see as per Sydney find my trouble this morning? Hope you all can see that she's looking for my trouble this morning?". Then he shoved the note into his pocket.

I returned my eyes out the window and prayed that he would find a change for me. My phone vibrated and I pulled it out of my bag and looked at the screen. 7:50am, it read. I shoved it back and prayed that Mr Ade, my boss notorious for his strict nature, wouldn't get to work before me.

Finally, the bus pulled over at my stop and I squeezed my way out of the bus, careful not to step on people's feet. I jumped down and turned to the conductor.

"Oga, my change?" I asked with a mean look.

He looked at me like he was about to start a fight. And I prayed against it within me.

"How much is your change?" He asked.

"I gave you five hundred naira. My fare is three hundred naira, so you'll give me two hundred naira," I replied, still with a mean face.

The conductor sighed, then pulled out a clean two hundred naira note from the wad of cash he had in his hands and handed it over to me.
"Na because you be fine girl, if not you go find change tire It's because you're a fine girl, if not you would have looked for change" he slapped the note into my already open palm.

I ignored him and checked my watch. It was 7:59 a.m. I was a minute to being late. I ran the rest of my way to my office building and flew the stairs. Immediately, I got In and found my way to my desk; Mr. Ade walked in. I heaved a sigh of relief grateful to have made it in time before him.

His eyes fixed on me as he walked by and I wondered if he had seen me rush in.

“Good morning, sir.” I greeted, forcing a smile and pretending to be busy with work

In his usual neutral expression, he nodded and replied, “Morning.”

I watched as he got into his office, and then I sank into my chair and shut my eyes. I looked at the time again and gave a soft laugh. It felt like I won a huge battle.

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