Here Is a Little Something About Nigerian Bike Men
I have owed you, beautiful humans a write-up for so long. I know, my bad. I couldn’t shake off the blank paper syndrome for a while. Regardless, I am here now and with a corny narrative, like old times.
Note– The Yoruba (italicized and emboldened) words can be translated by pressing it down and clicking the translate that comes up.
I have been patronizing bike men’s ample services lately, and do I have a lot to say about it! In my very brief experience, I have narrowed bike men to three categories. Ah, before I forget, we also have the nice, good ones. We aren’t here for them though. The three categories are purely subjective, but I am sure some might resonate with you. We have the speedsters, that guy that always has something to say, and the obscene ones. I do find the obscene ones very revolting.
No, Mr Adigun, Mi ò like ọmú girl yẹn sir
I look like the conventional ajeh butter, as they like to call people like me. I have no problem with the title though. I mean, I don't find it insulting. However, there aren't many perks that come with it; especially when you want to price a bike. I look well to do, so bike men often take me for a spoilt child, lol, if only they knew. I had an instance once when a bike man stopped by the pedestrian to pick me up.
Wired transfer? Ẹ gba #100 yìí jọ̀
I mean, the audacity—he told me five hundred nairas for a #150 bike journey. In this Buhari economy? Throughout my trip, this man wouldn’t shut up about how I was cheating him and how people like me paid #400 for trips shorter than this. Well, they had the #400 pay.
It doesn’t help that my Yoruba sounds like I am from Enugu. My pidgin? Lmfao. Let’s not even go there. So usually, when it comes to pricing, some bike men don’t take me seriously😑. Worse, when I get on the bike, and they start to talk about the problems of Nigeria and how Buhari is what Jon Bellion was talking about when he sang Dead Man Walking, I opt for safe Yoruba replies. Terms like Òótọ́ ni, bẹ́ẹ̀ni, hum, o serious gan, you don’t mean it, mo get yín. Sometimes I push my luck and say, wòó, má ṣe bẹ́yẹn now, owó nọ́ọ̀ni gbogbo è. Lmao, when I do pull this off, I get this pride. It is not often.
Ah yes, the speedsters! Boss, please, I am still very young. They drive like they forget Nigeria has been blessed with potholes, and other drivers are meant to suddenly obey the rules because they are driving. They always go so fast that flash would be envious. Sometimes I legit think, we are going to have a time jump.
When this happens, I tap them. Ah Oga, shey kosi (Hope there is no problem)? But trust me, you have a better chance at winning an argument with your mum than slowing down a fast bike. After the umpteenth time of tapping him, he slows down. A friend asked me once, they give you helmet, right? Do some bike men actually do that? I mean, what?
I had an experience with a speedster recently. So, the guy was pissed when he picked me. Apparently, someone had threatened him with an oraimo cord. So when he carried me, he was like
Ibẹ̀yẹn ni ma ti bury bọ̀bó yẹn sí (That’s where I would have buried him)
O fẹ́ wipe mi (He wants to wipe me)
Èmi! (Me!)
Some aggressive gesticulation
I was scared now, because if his hands are in the air, who tf is driving the bike?!
Kọ̀ mọ̀ mí. (He doesn’t know me)
Mi ò mà seré o (I don’t play o)
Mo ya wèrè gan. (I am really mad)
I can see that sir, but ejo
And he wasn’t playing. I was sure we were going 240km/hr at this point. Oga, is it me you want to bury? Ẹ rọra sir. Ẹ má bínú. I sha tried to pacify him.
I blame the government. Yes, because what will this article be without Buhari not being the bad guy? I mean, if we look at it well, he probably has something to do with these bike men. I don’t know; don’t ask me—you figure that out.
This article is all for now. I have other drafts. Other narratives I think you should see. Oh, gosh, I wouldn’t want you to miss out on my experiences with the flying lizard. That agama had some nerves. There is also the story of meeting the weirdest of people. Not my gym instructor indirectly insinuating that I partake in the act of being an ashewo (whore). I mean, not offended or anything. Just curious about how he found out.
See you next Monday for more corny narratives
Love,
Jide.
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