Deliver me from puking

Posted by Lola on Wednesday, September 24, 2014 in Memoirs of Honiilols, something close to funny, Worth Blogging Experience | 15 comments

 

Now and always...inclusive of when I am pregnant (before y'all start wondering, I ain't).

Some fifteen-twenty years ago, I used to think owning and driving a car was such a luxury especially in Nigeria. Na big lie! Lie told from that very dark, deep pit of impoverishment. Thankfully I have come to that realization that it isn't in any bit and my strive to get cars has so grown by some amazing litres. 
But first, I must start with owning one and this immediate need didn't stem from a desire to enjoy cool music and air-conditioning o but a need to save my delicate lungs from serious retching. Walking the streets and jumping buses in Lagos is a mega challenge, I'm sure y'all will agree. Imagine my happiness at living in a place as grand as Omole phase 2 - lush scenery, cool breeze, clean air to breathe, safe environ to jog at any time of the day, pretty shawty to admire even though they drive pass in their cars ( I don't do girls o before your senses move into overdrive), lanky dudes to salivate over too only for that excitement to be cut off every time I walk out of the estate gate. My routine involves going by Ojota odour sorry motor park. That early morning waka pass the park nauseates me. From all the debris to already turning-dark-feaces to urine-washed stalls and soggy ground...arrrrrrrrrgh! That stench of urine is oga patapata. Damn irritating especially in those wee hours of the morning when I have to walk through the blasted car park. Every corner is urine-flowing, even if it is not someone will gladly refill the earth surface with fresh pee like it's some kind of libation! If not for the nature of the soil that adequately absorbs it would have been a different tale entirely because believe me I am yet to see a day where the backs of men will not be turned to me with their burrito facing the buses and doing some morning baptism. I wonder how the people that display their wares cope; yet they eat in that filth! o gbele o.
 
Dear Lord, I need a car ASAP!!!
 
As if the urine palaver is not enough, going home the other day I reluctantly sat beside this young guy. Naturally I am a window person, (for several reasons not limited to popping my head out of the window in 'space' admiration) but because the guy had taken my favorite spot I took the next best which was beside him only to realise a second too late I wouldn't be comfy in that spot. In that split-second-decision-making opportunity to change location, another beefy man blocked me from the right. So there I was sandwiched between a young blood who was wreaking of alcohol plus heavy cigarette smoke and an older blood oozing a terrible underarm odour (really holding myself back from cursing).

How will I not puke?

But I didn't. I said all the prayers I could mumble that both men would alight before me...that didn't happen so I changed direction of prayer for a quick delivery at my estate gate...my dear, that didn't happen either as the usual closing-hour traffic held us bound for a long while so my tender nostrils suffered the harsh n forced romance.  

I need a car, just the car...I've got my drivers' license already. 

Writer's note- o gbele o is an exclamation that even I can't translate
                          oga patapata literally means the head of all
Credit to all my friends; I picked some slang off you. Please keep gisting me. Feather kisses ;-)

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