One good deed.....

Having grown up around policemen I am very much of the follow the rules, zero tolerance, no rubbish mentality. It has therefore not been easy for me to settle back in Lagos. I wanted to say us but Iyawo seems to be taking a more philosophical view of things that I am (at least she was).

My number one bug bear is the way people drive in Lagos. Numerous times over the past month I have found myself on the road directing traffic to clear jams caused by one moron or another driving the wrong way, blocking a major junction, buying stuff whilst parked in the middle lane or just being a total jackass. Iyawo has watched with alarm as the Igbobi College, Yaba boy (Up IC) within me has resurfaced with some vigour. She keeps warning me about my BP (blood pressure) which I can assure you at some points over the last month must have gone stratospheric whilst arguing with some muppet in a 4x4 who thinks this gives him the right to rule the road.

By the way, to the idiot in the Hummer H2 that tried to climb over the central reservation on the Lekki express yesterday and duly got stuck, it was only Iyawo's intervention and the fact that we were late for a function that stopped me from delivering what would have been a fine sermon on the fact that at some point any sense you might have had been overtaken by daddy's money as you looked far too young to have bought that car yourself - legally. There must have come a tipping point in your young unformed mind where you thought "mmm, too much traffic on the road. Obviously all these other fools do not have access to this two ton jeep disguised as a "sports utility vehicle" and its superior handling skills. After all is this not what the Americans use to conquer in Iraq, Afghanistan and all those other rough terrains? I beg let me just climb over this pavement into oncoming traffic jare and really impress this my 16 year old chicko". I was somewhat saddened that on my return trip three hours later your car was nowhere to be seen as it would seem that you had finally managed to get some traction (or area boys) to get you out of the .....

Two weeks ago I almost killed a man whilst trying to do my duties as a good citizen. On this particular day my blood was boiling as mayhem and anarchy was ruling on the Lekki expressway (on two occasions it has taken over three hours to get from our house to Shoprite, a distance of less than 2 miles). We decided to take a short cut rather than face the long drive all the way down to Exxon just to turn around to get to VI. The first argument was with a chap in a 4x4 who having overtaken the traffic waiting to turn then cut in from the outside lane into oncoming traffic and tried to insert himself between the 2 inch gap between the rear bumper of our car and the front bumper of the car behind which was determined not to let him in. After much revving of engine he then proceeded to slam into us at which point I ejected myself from the car to have a few choice words. To my amazement he then turned around and started abusing the other driver for not letting him in and having the audacity to block him off. After much wasting of spittle and some very strong language we all proceeded on our merry way. Throughout all this Iyawo was in the car reading a magazine and telling me afterwards to calm down as I was breathing hele hele by this point.

Less than a few hundred yards later a danfo zoomed past us facing oncoming traffic, finally met his match in view of the fact that a huge lorry was heading towards him with no apparent intention of stopping (or no brakes as it is sometimes hard to tell which is which). Realising the error of his ways he then proceeded to literally jam himself into our front. First I wound down the window to warn him to no avail. So I decided to take drastic action. I opened the door to go face him mano to mano only for an okada driver to slam at speed into the open door catapulting driver and passenger over the handlebars into the (thank God) soft grass on the other side of the verge. The driver lay motionless whilst the passenger had somehow landed on his feet and was still holding on (and listening) to his Sony discman. I swear this can only happen in Lagos.

At this point even the danfo driver had stopped as a crowd quickly gathered (mostly other okada drivers). The following scen then unfolded:

Me: Sorry oh my friend. Are you okay?
Okada driver : no response, but slowly moving about gingerly.
Other Okda drivers : Oga wetin now? You want to kill him?
Me: Were you even there? Did you see what happened?
Other Okada to Okada driver : Oboy , how are you feeling? Oya move your legs. Oya check your ankle? Ya neck unko? You break ribs? You see well? Any blood? Crack ya wrists. Having ascertained that it was most likely the okada man would live they then turned their attention to his prostrate bike.

The steering bend? E dey leak petrol? How about the exhaust? Any sand don enter? The clutch still day? I bed check am well, well oh?

Once the roadside MOT had been passed they then reunited driver and motorbike. I made a contribution towards his speedy recovery, bid the still grooving passenger a fond farewell and so we departed. But not before the danfo, which immediately it looked like there were no casualties to gawp at jumped in front of us and sped off.

The moral of this story? Damn I wish I knew. Welcome to Lagos. Y'all drive safely now.