Driving Crazy

Hmmm, As I share the road with my fellow countrymen I can sense our chiefest driving virtues, well vices. Why do these guys just squeeze their faces like a towel-dried school uniform? They are so so aggressively stingy with the road. The road that their fathers didn’t put there. You can see selfishness and vindictiveness painted in livid colours on their ugly faces as they hold tight to their steering wheels and drive like the road is expiring the next hour. Kilode?

Some rush like they have a bowel on rampage. I just smile as these ‘important’ drivers barge down on you like all about life is knowing how to move a car menacingly. Do you need to be specially brilliant to drive a car? I don’t think so. The real guilty guys are those folks with terrestrial aircrafts. We tend to think here that you are as big as your car, even if the big thing guzzles fuel like hell is guzzling souls. Atimes I feel the size of the car is inversely proportional to the size of the brains of the driver by the way they drive. I expect you would slow down to show off your achievement, but you deprive us the joy of drooling at the magnificence of your beast by speeding so fast.

I plan to buy a tipper. The type that go into the bush to haul sand and gravel. I may even just buy an ‘agbegilodo’. I want this metallic bully to scare these guys in plastic jeeps. I would put a corrugated iron roof at the back with bullet proof doors. I would call Anthony Odeniran to tile the floor at the back. I would install split air conditioning and mikano generator. In fact, I would just make a sitting room at the back and sit at the owner’s corner. If you dare ‘gbemu’ I kiss you!

Then I would get an aboki driver, to harass all of you big people. If you speak English you are in trouble as grammar would vilify my aboki. I would compete with the trailer drivers that meander their ways on Lagos Ibadan expressway as if the owners of smaller cars don’t deserve some oxygen. I would have a mobile house and office. You need to know my current address to visit. I would come to your house, afflict your kitchen and sleep outside in my all-metal caravan. If NEPA is angry with you, I would supply your street electricity from my mikano generator for a small fee.

So when you drive like you wish the road would evaporate after you, remember you are giving folks like me ideas. And one day, one of those ideas will come to reality. You might just see me in the owner’s corner of an air conditioned aboki-driven tipper blocking the road. Doing what? Reading newspaper as I empty my bowels in my mobile water closet. You imagine I wouldn’t put a toilet in my mansion on the move? You caused it all!!!