The Okada Ride...

Ok so...remember I told you I left my job and am rebuilding my life in Nigeria all over again? Well I think I let myself go a little during the transition. My nails which are always picture perfect have not been touched for about 6 weeks! My ever changing weave has been constant and lost its gloss and my skin has forgotten what Clarins toner tastes like. If you did not know me before the sudden change you'd think I was still on top of my game but those who knew the TFTin9ja blogger before the sudden change know say... levels done change of late. Just before you send out for the fashion police let me explain... ok, so I have not settled into my new home even though most of my stuff is there. Like me my newly acquired home is going through some changes and painting of the walls to colours that personify me have commenced. Usually if you want to know how I am doing all you have to do is visit my home. Its condition depicts my state of mind. So with that said my settlement is still work in progress but there is always some sort of achievement to celebrate each day. Its for this reason I booked a 7am hairdressing appointment at my new home cos it has all my stuff in it even though I still go to my stop over accommodation to pass the night still.

It’s Sunday morning and the hairdresser is at the new place waiting for me and melting my phone with constant phone calls asking where I am. There are no taxis in sight (those that have roughed Lagos know Sunday mornings are not flowing with Fashola's red cabs). Even the cabbies whose numbers now adorn my phonebook are not picking up their phones or simply respond "Aunty it is Sunday it is my off" kai! Cab drivers too are off on Sunday sha...only in Lagos! Ok so yours truly does the unthinkable I grab my bag, give

my puppy a little tummy rub and mount an Okada! (You heard me the first time so I refuse to repeat myself!) My rider and on lookers on the street did not need me to tell him I was not a regular on Okadas. Apart from the awkward way I climbed onto the bike I did other odd things like ask the rider if I could hold on to his shirt then I told him to ride really slow. As we drove by my usual breakfast hangout places I drop my head really low so that no one recognises me. Finally we get to the top of my street and I tell the Okada man to let me off and not bother to chauffer me to my front door. Since I had betrayed myself with all my J.J.C moves I was not surprised when he tried to charge me N300 for what I suspect must have been a N100 ride. Still trying hard not to be associated with the Okada I don't bother arguing I just hand him N1000 and hurry him up for my change. He looks confused by the N1000 bill and you could see the mathematics of producing my change had him at a disadvantage. My morning rider hands me N900 change and I hurriedly walk off.

As I approach my gate I hear the cheerful greetings of my gateman "Aunty?!" I reply reluctantly "Baba Bariga good morning..." and he counters "aha! Where your car?" so like a true Lagos scholar I reply "ah Baba the driver just drop me, him go come back just now..." Baba has obviously mistaken all my hire purchase vehicles to be mine and as a true Lagos scholar I have learnt that perception is truth.  Now I’m home safe and sound watching my hairdresser carefully arranging her tools to glam me up. I think of my morning rider and how I got the last laugh. My prayer for you this day is that for every person that tries to take advantage of you; may their lack of wisdom make you laugh last!