PLEASANT NIGHTMARE PART 1 (BY KWAKU GYAMFI).
It was a sunny day. The heat was
unbearable. I had endured a marathon
lecture. Who were you to sleep in Mr.
Gyakari's class because you were
bored? The last person to attempt
that failed in his course. Outright!
I left campus for the bus stop. My original
plan was to get a cab home. When I
got there, the bus was almost full.
That was fine. I didn't want to wait.
At last, there was no room in the bus.
Unfortunately, the driver was nowhere
in sight. We had to pressure the
mate, (another name for conductor) to
call on him. He came with another
passenger. As I said earlier, there was
no room in the car.
The passengers had to shift expertly to
make space for the incoming one. It
was clear that their bodies were well
adapted to the movement. An occurrence that they were used to on their daily commute. Natural
"Why have you taken on another
person? Why are you guys always
overloading? What will his little
money do for you?" An elderly woman
"Madam, if you feel you have a
problem you can get down and go
drive your car. Why are you
passengers always worrying us like
that? I am tired of you," the driver
"What you are doing is wrong. It
needs to be told. It puts our lives in
danger!", she yelled.
"Woman, have you seen anyone die
in this car? I have a reputation. I am
able to travel from Accra to Kumasi in
2 hours instead of 4 but I have never recorded any
accident. You sit in my car and talk
anyhow. Nonsense!", said the irritated driver.
"Youngman, you have no elders in your
home eh? What do you take me for?
You think I wash my face from my
chin to my forehead eh? You speak
like you have a borrowed brain. You
are afraid to use it because you fear a
higher interest will be exacted from
you when you use it. From how you
disrespect life, someone will think
human beings have nine lives. We are not cats. Ah how
can a man's mind be so shallow? Are
you the child of a woman or the son
of a tree? I suspect the latter!", the now leaned-forward older lady yelled.
"Get out of my car! How dare you insult
my mum! The idea! You think you can
say foolish things and go scot-free
eh? Not on my watch. Get down
now before I drag you out myself!", said the red-eyed driver.
"Oh so you know it feels for a mother to be insulted. How touching. What's your name?
Youngman, what is it? One of my
goats is pregnant; when it delivers I
will do you the honor of
naming the kid after you."
The bus was quiet.
END OF PART 1.