Kindness clothed in Agbero Costume

It was about raining, I had just finished buying and bagging my new stock.

An itinerant load carrier, the ones popularly known as aboki helped me carry the heavy bag of T-shirts to the bus stop, where I’d get a bus to take me to my area. From thence, I would take two more buses from where it would drop me.

It was past 4pm already, meaning, nightfall was fast approaching.

The threats of an impending rainfall became even more real, as droplets began to descend.

The first driver I approached refused to carry me, so I felt that maybe if I offered to pay for two seats, just maybe, I may be considered.

I offered to pay N1,000; N500 for each seat – one for me and the other for my luggage.

The driver refused, saying he doesn’t carry luggage in his bus.

I pleaded and pleaded, without luck, until one of the agberos that load buses asked me to wait for the next turn.

It took the first bus about 30 minutes to finish loading and leave.

Second bus drove forward, and I heard them calling someone Pastor. It turned out to be the driver. Immediately I heard Pastor, instant peace took over my whole being. I looked around his bus and saw stickers of invitations for crusade and other religious events, rekindling hope that I had finally gotten a bus.

Within me, the feeling was ‘surely, a Pastor would help me.’ The agbero urged me to chill, assuring that Pastor would definitely carry me.

Pronto, Pastor parked properly and started beckoning on passengers to enter.

I met with the driver and as with the first bus, made an offer to pay for two seats so that my luggage can be accommodated without stress.

But Pastor was to say, without any iota of compassion, that he doesn’t carry load in his bus. Yet his bus had a boot unlike the first.

I begged and told him I’d still pay for two seats and he can still put my luggage in the boot. Pastor refused.

Raindrops soon became more persistent, leaving me worried that if the rain starts fully, my over 100 pieces of Tees would be ruined, plus it was getting late.

Two more agberos joined me in begging Pastor(the driver), but he started insulting them for disturbing him.

I was so tired. I had left home since 9am, and been so busy, I didn’t need the ensuing drama.

One of the agberos, with a stick of cigarette in mouth, Alomo Bitters in one hand, angry at what the drivers were doing to me, lamented how he expected better from a man of God. He took my luggage on his head, and headed straight to another park, with me practically running after him.
We soon got a bus that agreed to carry me for less the amount I was begging the two other drivers to carry me – N500.

I gave the agbero some money in appreciation but the
guy asked me to keep it and make sure I get home safe😳😳😳😳
I insisted, and assured him that I’d be fine.

😔😔😔😔😔😔😔
I know you might be wondering why I couldn’t do Uber. Girlfriend, that was a no no as the traffic was Maaaaaaad!

I lowered my head and said a silent prayer, wondering when I’d get home.

Finally, I got home around 9pm in one piece – my luggage and I.

In the midst of the trauma of that day only one thought ran through my mind, as I tossed on my bed: mehn, kindness often comes from the least expected quarters.