Yesterday 1655hrs
This time it was from the one they call the Garden City Airport, the one where the almighty crash proof Dash 80 planes leave from. It was quite an unusually smooth flight into the commercial nerve centre of the motherland. How glorious it was driving into this island and have that heavy traffic jam on the other side of the road, at least until I was on the highway that goes beyond the Peninsula.
We are stuck in light traffic, had light breakfast at some the Republic for fowl and then unto some business.
Enquiries and some not so long but careful consideration. Some queen’s English ensued and numbers changed hands, some even confidential.
Traffic was growing and I had to be at another location. My driver was gone & busy elsewhere. I know my way around these parts and where to stand. I run across the gray & white Giraffe Crossing avoiding that bastard that drove like the car was stolen. On the other side now, what I feared the most was about to happen to me. I was faced with the very deadly, most talked about situation in the city. My biggest dilemma yet for the year 2009.
Baroque was on the sidewalk looking as confused as ever. A bike had stopped in front of me, by the slow moving traffic. Then I saw it, a purple cheap looking crash helmet on his handle bars, for me to wear. Oh No, GOD please!
Then the million dollar question again,”Helmet or No Helmet”
Helmet or No Helmet? No Helmet or LASMA? LASMA or Ring Worm?
“TAXI” I called out “Ahmadu Bello Way”
“One thousand naira” he replied seemingly unwilling
I was already in the front seat
Settled down to do some work then was on the phone, dialoguing with Eko. A late lunch in view. I went back to work. After failed attempts to achieve my new targets, I Ctrl-N my word page and start typing…
