You see this particular post?? You must not understand, just reshare pls so it will get to the people who need it. You will be unconsciously saving a woman.
For 3 years I took the same danfo from Oshodi to CMS every morning. 6:20am. Standing by the overhead bridge where the conductor always shouted "one more, one more" even when the bus was already full.
His name was Baba Lawal.
He had a system. Before every trip he tapped the roof twice with his palm. Not for the driver. The driver never waited for it. It was something he did for himself. I never asked why.
The window seat behind the driver was always mine. Even when I came late and the bus was halfway loaded, he'd hold it. Just point when he saw me pushing through the crowd. No words. Just a point.
2018 they expanded the BRT corridor. The danfo route got squeezed out. One week Baba Lawal was there. Next week a blue BRT bus stood in his place. No announcement. No last trip. Just gone the way those things go in Lagos.
I started taking the BRT. Faster. Cleaner. The seats were assigned. I always ended up somewhere in the middle.
Six years passed.
Last March my car broke down near Aguda in Surulere. My mechanic was unreachable so I pushed it into the nearest compound with a compressor running. Small place. Zinc roof. Radio going. A boy maybe 9 years old was sitting on a bench drawing something on the back of a cornflakes box.
I looked at what he was drawing while I waited.
It was a danfo. Yellow with the black stripe. Passengers in rows. The window seat behind the driver was empty.
I asked him why that seat had no one in it.
He said his grandfather told him that seat belonged to someone.
I looked up.
Baba Lawal was sitting in the corner of the workshop watching me. Older. Thinner. His hair fully white. But he was already looking at me the way you look at someone you recognized before they recognized you.
Then he told me his wife used to take that route every morning before she died. Window seat behind the driver because she liked to watch the road. He gave it to people who came early and stood quiet. Said they were the ones actually going somewhere.
I had been sitting in a dead woman's seat for 3 years and never knew it. He asked about my car. I told him. He called his son over.
Before I left, he tapped the roof of my car twice with his palm.
I didn't ask why this time either.