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I was negotiating the curve from the estate into the major street when ‘three keke Marwas’ tried to wedge me. I outsmarted them and got into the major street. One of the drivers said to me.

‘’Mama, e de je ko wole’’ (emperical meaning: mama, let him enter the road).

‘’Mo se ma je ko wole’’ (I wont let him) I responded, keeping a straight face.

Others chorused ‘’E je ko wole nau’’ (let him enter now).

‘’Ko wole sibo? Lailai, to ba fori si ma block e’’ (enter where? If you dare me, I will block you) I responded with a hiss.

“Ye, iya o, e tie je ko wole die, ko ma kan le’’ (ye, mama o, allow him enter just a little not deeply’’ One of the said.

‘’Wa wole to ba tobe’’ (I dare you) I said with a stern look on my face.

Ye, ye, ye, iya o se agbara yin ka toba wole sibe? E wo bi o se firin gbole to’’ (ye ye ye, mama, can you withstand this one if he enters? See how powerfully built he is) one of them said.

It dawned on me what they were saying. They were actually just clowning.

In the absurdities, I still found hilarity in what they said.

I said ‘’ gbenu soun lo ba size e’’ (shut up, go and meet your mates)

Ye, ye, ye mama da mo baje, o ti ja si’’ (ye ye ye ye, mama understands o) they hooted . Even the passengers in the keke marwa were chuckling and giggling at the chinwag between us. Then the road became free and I benevolently stopped to give them passage with them hailing me ‘’mama to don jasi’’ I was still grinning at the banter between us for I saw happy lighthearted young men reveling in their hustles despite traffic gridlocks and the hard realities we face in the country daily.

Therefore, the man on the left lane turned to me. “”good morning madam’’

‘’good morning sir’’ I replied.

You are such a beautiful woman and erin yen o wa pa’’ (you have a beautiful) he continued.

That wiped the cheery smile off my face, my face wore a quick frown as I looked at him with laser beams in my eyes ‘’ my name is …’’ I allowed it to bounce away. I mentally shut down.

I am the STATION MANAGER of plate Numbers in FRSC’’ he said

I rebooted quickly ‘’you are what? He repeated himself. I told him ‘ You are fake. What is your rank?’’ He couldn’t answer. I said ‘’you are lying, you are fake. There is nothing like station manager in FRSC.’’

‘’Do you know Mrs. Sholesi? He asked me. She would tell you that I am the STATION MANAGER in plate number’’ I drew a blank.

Do you know any Obayemi there? I asked him too, he shook his head.

‘’There is no one like that; he is not one of us.’’ I told him again that he was fake. If you don’t know Obayemi then you don’t work there at all. Then the stream of traffic ahead moved and he actually drove into FRSC office. I guffawed at his silly pranks. You can drive into FRSC office gate and exit from VIO/LASTMA gate. I wanted to go after him, his saving grace was that I was rushing somewhere. I couldn’t reach out fast enough for my phone in my bag to take a picture of him but I have the imprint of what he looks like before I zoomed off. That is somebody’s husband o, chatting up another woman early in the morning. He must have told his wife he works in road safety, and bamboozled so many.

Be at alert, always go to FRSC for legitimate transactions. I would have asked for a favour from him if i had pressing needs and wasnt so informed about FRSC.

Then the silly scum chose me to play his silly monkeyshines on. Ode somebothi.


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