So I am in the economic capital of my country for an appointment. Then I am face with this situation. I guess the person accommodating me knows first hand the condition here that’s why she said this to me. “If you must respect time then you need to set out 1-2hrs earlier” I didn’t take note of this until this morning. I was glad she knows my tradition of never going late for appointments even if it’s just a light date.
Found myself beside the road this morning looking as though I was stranded. It seemed the bike riders had sent out a news to every taxi driver on the road warning them not to carry me since I have phobia for motorcycle so I don’t ever like using them. Or maybe there are just not taxis in this city? After all I saw just 2 and they snubbed me. The rest, except for their yellow color, they didn’t look like taxis. You won’t understand until you come here. There was no way for me to be fade up. That’s not the best way to start ones day. So I decided to divert my attention and take note of some details. Apart from the heavy duty trucks with long trailer, causing the bumper-to-bumper traffic jam, the bikes and their owners trying to go as if they don’t fear losing their lives, the road rage exhibited by vehicle owners. There’s this one thing that inspired me; the hustling and bustling! I’m sure anyone would be too. Isn’t it amazing how everyone especially the youths go about their businesses? Even the police officers are doing their job. If not for the fact that I’m a decisive person, then I would want to be a police officer now. I just love it when people work passionately even if it’s stressful. But I was particularly concerned about these dynamic teens marketing somethings. How did independence started again? Now I’m tempted to say Cameroon has the most hard working youths in Africa. I felt like I needed to be a states lady so I can fix another road for these trailers and motorbikes alone then another just for the taxis and pedestrians like me who have phobia for the former. Don’t ask me how I plan to realize that and I hope it’s not one of my exhilaration too.
Now back to why I was there in the first place. How do I do this? Wait for the taxi that will never come or bottle my phobia for bikes? How was I going to escape the traffic if I take a taxi anyways? I can’t trek either. So there’s just one option left, I must climb a bike! Oh! Now I wish I could possess one power that helps one disappear and appear. Taking this bike felt like giving away my precious heart to a narcissist man. Call me an old school but I see nothing wrong with wearing my heart on my sleeve. How he carried me through this long bridge with the breeze that almost shaved my hair is story for another day. For now no one should convince me that bike riders in this city don’t have two lives. They live original at home and go about with the duplicate. No one with one life fly like that. good news is I arrived on time and safe! I won’t wait for sunday to do the needful!
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