IFEATU'S BUS CHRONICLES: THE YELLOW BUS IS A BATTLEFIELD PREPARATORY ARENA

One of the things you won't be told about sleeping on a Sunday night while listening to Bradley Cooper and Gaga's Shallow is that you will be waking to a blaring alarm and the busy Lagos roads on a Monday.

It had rained the previous night. The weather is obviously cold. Take a bike and you will alight with your teeth clattering while your body shivers. So, you take a bus with a mind ready to tackle whatever lurks on the road.

The road is abnormally free. I am still wondering If I slept past Monday into a Tuesday.

The passengers are all calm till a lanky guy dressed in brown chinos, a cream coloured shirt to match and black heavy boots makes his way into the bus to sit by me.

He has his earphones tucked in his ears.

"Yes?" The conductor says in his hoarse voice after a couple of minutes. The young man casts a rather blank gaze at him and continues to listen to whatever was tingling his ears from the speaker of his phone.

"Yes?" uttered by a bus conductor in a Lagos bus is certainly not an affirmation. It's an urging for you to dip your hands in your pocket and pay your fare. Call it an undocumented culture and you won't be far from the truth.

Clearly, the young man was new in town. "You have to tell me to pay and not say yes," he tries to correct the conductor in his Hausa mingled accent. His English is clean and sleek with a lace of that recognizable Hausa smear. It's the way educated northerners speak, I have heard it countless times from the fine broadcasters on NTA, from my friends Muaz and Abdul. Everytime, I hear it, I recognize it.

My gaze stray to his fingers. They are well groomed just about the way our northern brothers would. I have a hidden ability of stating where people originate from by looking at their fingers.
Weird thing, I know but it's true.

"E funmi owo joor," the conductor yells from the corner of the bus where he hangs his plump tall frame like the flag poles you would effortlessly spot at embassies and consulates.

"Excuse me, I will give you. Your bus is tight," Mr Northern brother replies with slight irritation.

Brother Conductor was slightly not going to keep calm without a fight. He cursed and swore in Yoruba and 'Mr Polished Northern Brother' cursed right back in English and Hausa.

The driver, an elderly man had been quiet all the while.

"Him go give you, leave am," he urged his conductor. We ride amidst the passengers murmuring about who was at fault and who wasn't while I was scoring the two 'bus titans.'

"Eko Hotel o wa o," Mr Northern Brother informs the driver. The bus gets to the gate of the popular Eko Hotel, makes an abrupt halt and he alights handing his fare to the conductor.

The conductor has an angry look on his face but I have my scores. There was no point of putting up a fight. If they made an attempt to fight, Mr Nothern brother would grind those tiny toes of the conductor with the sole of this 'caterpillar boots'.

Nothern Brother 1 Vs Conductor 0 .

NEXT BIG THING: CREATING A NEW WORLD THROUGH MY LENS - KINGSLEY AGORUA

Jim Rohn had his opinion that "If you don't like where you, change it. You are not a tree." Kingsley Agorua had looked around where he found himself and decided to change it to suit his taste through his lens. My earliest contact with Kingsley should have been in 2012 when I was a student at the Federal University of Technology, Owerri. I spotted him at an event on campus where he was taking photographs. Little did I know that I would bump into him again at my faculty - The School of Health as a student. I was curious as to what a photographer was doing in my faculty during lecture period. Time will reveal that he was a student too who was madly in love with his camera. This was all before the advent of traditional or nearly compulsory bridal showers, baby showers and pre-wedding shoots in the Nigerian Creative Industry. Kingsley Agorua is a cinematographer with years of experience from Oguta in Imo state. He studied Dental Technology at the Federal University

WHY I WON'T BE BUYING ANYTHING AGAIN FOR A LIFETIME

Heads up, people! Walking into a shop to purchase an item does not look appealing to me anymore. This is one of my decisions for the new year being that if something is not worth it then there is no point buying it especially trying to impress another fellow. I have chosen to stick to buying experiences rather 'things.' One of my observation is that experiences cannot be stolen or compromised. They stick like your gum sap sticks to a tree. So maybe before you buy that expensive Emporio Armani wristwatch or Jimmy Choo shoes, it might be imperative to checkmate if there are experiences that same amout can buy you. Don't get me wrong, it is as clear as crystal that you need to shop for clothings, food, phones or luxury from time to time but bear in mind that your happiness can't be tied to any item. That vibe you get is nothing but a fleeting one . “One of the enemies of happiness is adaptation,” Thomas Gilovich reveals. “We buy things to make us happy

Helping hands or holding hands?

It was just last week. I set up a quiz for the pupils I teach. Teaching had never been something I looked forward to but it found me. I can tell you that despite I find myself standing in front of a board each morning, I feel more like I am learning. So, the doubts of if I relished teaching fizzled away. The experience has been fresh and worthy. I had two groups namely A and B consisting of three pupils each for the quiz. The pupils in group A were more of the intelligent stock and group B, I called them the average stock. Once we kicked off, group A had earned eight points leaving group B at two points. "We will finish you, people today", Vincent snarled. He is one of the smartest kids you 'd ever meet, a fast rising Chike Obi breed and the sole provider of the answers coming from his camp. I was tempted to caution him not to talk that way to them but I restrained myself and kept watching the unfolding drama. Group B seemed to have lost hope, they all had a shado

JENNIE IFEATU

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