Happy Valentine’s Day!
Today, I’m using a guest commuter for the first time. What better person to choose for today than my friend and fellow blogger, Benjamin Anyan. You may want to pop over to his blog and have a read. www.goldinwords.com is a blog that focuses on love and relationships. I hope you enjoy this piece he’s written.
It was a Monday night, and I was unsure as to which was worse: the frenzied crowd at the Spanner Junction bus stop or the mind-sapping traffic ahead. The expertise I used to land myself on the only available seat of that green Madina-bound Benz 207 bus could very well be a Mission Impossible stunt … but that is a story for another post. What I’m going to intrigue you with is what my curious eyes beheld on that ride.
The seat I landed was the one behind the passenger seat right beside the driver’s. I leaned forward to extract the 40 pesewas I was sure I had in one of my trouser pockets. It was nowhere to be found. More searching. It turns out it was in the corner of my laptop bag. As I reached for it, I chanced upon a glowing China-made iPhone that was in the process of sending a rather … interestingly scandalous text message. In the dimly-lit troski, I could only see the silhouette of the lady it belonged to.
Convinced that both the driver and the man to her right couldn’t tell an English word from a Chinese word even if their lives depended on it, the lady texted away her most intimate feelings to a man neither you nor I will ever see. I don’t remember each word verbatim, but I’m going to paint the picture the best I can:
“I’m sorry for what happened earlier today…” (So I’m thinking, this must be an apologetic woman who wronged someone.) “…It’s just that I love you soo much…” (What? Could this possibly be happening? Could my giraffe neck and probing eyes be yielding juicy marginal returns? All of a sudden the ride in the stuffy, snail-paced trotro seemed too fast and breezy.
I don’t know if she sensed there was a curious literate hovering. I doubt it. I think she figured that given the sensitive nature of the text she was sending, she had to be extra careful, so she leaned forward, blocking my view in the process. “You’re kidding me,” I thought to myself “After the sweet trickle of heavy stuff I’ve just seen, am I supposed to return to my regular life and pretend this never happened? No way!” I leaned forward ‘some’ (I just love literally translated brofo)
She paused for a few seconds in deep thought, and I hoped it wouldn’t grow into minutes; we were quickly approaching Zongo Junction. To my delight, she continued and what was blurry became clear.
“…it’s just that when the reality dawns on me that you’re a married man…” Eeebbeei, aaahh, oo ok hmmm (I thought). “…it freaks me out, but I still…” and on and on it went. Like three text pages oo. The love-struck lady confessed her undying love for her married boyfriend.
Forgive me if this sounds conceited, but honestly, when the whole lot of us alighted and I thoroughly checked the texter (who was just a silhouette before) out, I thought to myself, “If only all husband snatchers were like this, my chances of cheating on the wife moves from negligible to highly improbable.” So thus begun my trotro eavesdropping past time.
After that, I witnessed so many romantic times in this preferred public transport medium. I can be mischievous sometimes, and one time when this sloppy guy let me see the text requesting for a response to a proposal he’d made earlier, I memorized the girl’s number and considered sending her a text asking her to leave my man alone!!! Hehehehe, I didn’t, though.
Another related thing that beats my imagination is why a guy would choose the troski of all places to con a damsel. I mean, she’s probably in a hurry to get home or frustrated from where she’s coming from. To come on strongly on such a rickety trip is so not the way to go. I always crack open with laughter when such moves backfire, like when the I-wanna-know-you-better guy does the unrequested favour of paying the fare for the I-wouldn’t-even-notice-you-if-it-were-just-us-two-in-this-troski girl.
I think there’s something with getting stuck in traffic and the irrepressible urge to text or communicate with a flirt mate or the person that transmits tingly sensations even when you haven’t turned your ‘Bluetooth’ on. Several times, I’ve seen the most romantic messages being sent or reviewed from the discomfort of a stale ride. I tried it a few times and it worked, most of the time. It numbed the effect of the traffic and made the ride shorter and more interesting. It’s true what they say: just as the hunter learns to shoot without missing, the bird learns to fly without perching.
Benjamin Anyan (www.goldinwords.com)