The Okada Ride of Terror
Uche uzodinma@ucheuzodinma
2 days ago
It was a typical chaotic Lagos morning, and Tolu was late—again. The traffic was pure madness, and the sun was already roasting like it had personal beef with him. Sweating and desperate, he spotted an Okada rider chilling by the roadside, looking like he had all the answers to Lagos traffic. Tolu sprinted over and shouted, “Oga, I dey late for meeting o! Abeg, sharp sharp!”
The Okada man gave him a confident nod, as if to say, "No be today I start this work.” Without further talk, Tolu hopped on the bike, clutching his bag like it held the secrets of the universe.
As they zoomed off, Tolu quickly realized he might have made a mistake. This was no ordinary Okada man. No, this man was clearly a retired Formula 1 driver who had decided to test his skills on Lagos roads. He swerved between cars like a snake on steroids, dodged potholes the size of craters, and even overtook a danfo (bus) on a narrow bridge. Tolu’s heart was pounding harder than a Fuji drummer’s hands.
At one point, a truck suddenly stopped ahead, and instead of slowing down, the Okada man accelerated. “Bros, wetin you dey do?!” Tolu screamed, clinging to the man like his life depended on it (because it did). The Okada man grinned over his shoulder and said, “Relax, na me be road master. This Lagos na small thing.”
Tolu wasn’t buying it. “Road master ke?! You wan turn me to ghost master! Abeg, slow down, I still get life plans!”
The ride got even crazier. They hit a speed bump at full speed, and for a moment, Tolu swore he saw heaven. His legs left the footrest, his bag flew up, and his brain screamed, “This is it, Tolu. This is how it ends.” When they landed, the Okada man looked back and said, “Oga, you dey fear? You no trust me?”
“Trust you?!” Tolu barked. “Even my village people dey trust you pass me right now!”
Just when he thought it couldn’t get worse, the Okada man veered onto the sidewalk to bypass another traffic jam. Pedestrians scattered, shouting insults. “Na thunder go fire you!” one woman yelled. Another man screamed, “This na Okada or spirit bike?” Tolu wanted to apologize on the man’s behalf, but he was too busy saying silent prayers.
Finally, they reached his destination. The Okada screeched to a halt, and Tolu practically jumped off, legs wobbling like jelly. His shirt was drenched—not just with sweat, but tears of survival. The Okada man beamed at him and said, “You see? I talk say I go carry you reach on time!”
Tolu didn’t even have the strength to argue. As he handed over the money with shaky hands, he muttered under his breath, “Next time, I go just waka. At least my two legs no get turbo boost.”
As he walked away, he heard the Okada man yell after him, “Oga, anytime you ready, call me! My name na Schumacher!”
Tolu made a mental note: Schumacher? Never again.
📍Lagos, Nigeria
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