***Hallo effriwan, Deji here. Hope you’ve enjoyed Billy and Femi so far (err…I mean their stories and not…well you get it). Today, I just wanna share some thoughts and I hope you like it***

Well, we eat too much junk food which deteriorates our health, we hardly exercise, we don’t have enough sleep. Lagos will reduce your lifespan and well should I continue?

Staring through the now dusty window from the interior of the BRT I just entered wondering why they have allowed the buses deteriorate for so long.

I hear the sound of a conductor shouting “Berger Ogba enter with your 400 naira change oo”. Smiling and feeling happy with myself for waiting for an extra 5 minutes.

I normally would have spent an extra 200 naira on a bus that squeezes people together.

If you are unlucky you get a fat lady or man sitting next to you. Telling you to squeeze your self out of the vehicle to accommodate their fat asses. I don’t like calling people fat but thinking about those people ehn.

Let’s just say they are an exception. In short, I am calling them fat fuckers as I am writing this.Come and beat me. What’s even worse is the smell of sweat, perfume and there is this stench that comes out of nowhere.

You can’t complain as the heat and breeze alternates between every one of them. You just find yourself squeezing your face and trying and begging God if he truly he exists not to make you have an Asthma attack there and then.

The err….wait what do they call BRT conductors again? Anyway, the BRT conductor woman starts collecting and tearing our tickets and after she was done, we started moving.

Looking through the window, I realize the bus I could have entered for double the price and double the stench was still there and I could hear the conductor still shouting Berger Ogba.

We get to the Third Mainland Bridge and as usual, we encounter the normal terrible hold up from hell. Oh, I forgot to add that a friend from my Estate was sitting down next to me. So we were gisting about stuff that might be written about later.

I know that I should talk about the water that separates the Island from the mainland in a beautiful and sexy fashion but I am Deadpool.

I am lazy, come and beat me. Moving along, we get to the middle of the bridge and we see a broken down bus with its occupants looking confused and begging the driver of our BRT to let them in. The driver says, “enter with your 200 Naira change oo”.

The women started carousing “Edakun Omo Iya mi” (Which translates to please my mother’s son I guess, in English).

They jump in the bus and well, since the bus was full, they stand or as we say in Lagos “Won euro lori standing”.

As we move, the driver asks them to pay and they start paying 100 nairas, The driver says he cannot collect it and suddenly..Okay, i don’t know what happened, I shaa know that they start abusing someone sitting, telling him to mind his business, raining abuse after abuse like a combo breaker on the poor dude.

The driver asks for his money again and the abuses turn to him and i think “Wait! Aren’t this people supposed to be begging and pleading?”.

We get to the one area like that where pollution might be the number one cause of the deaths of the residents there and they all shout “OWA OO” in unison. Next thing I hear which to be fair I dinner “belifit”.

They started thanking all of us and praying for the driver. That God will provide for his family. The shock on my face is about to have an aftershock like multiple orgasms when my logical brain tells me “Dude this is how Lagosians resolve conflict”.

We are back to our peace and quiet till we get to my bus stop and looking back at the whole thing, encountering a whole different kind of madness was gonna happen again the next day. Shit, it’s 10pm, I need to watch the new episode of The Flash before I sleep.

***Okay guys and ladies (coughs) i meant ladies and gentlemen, hope you enjoyed these thoughts of mine, until next time.***