I opened my eyes to the sound of her alarm. It was the fifth time this time. I might have been asleep but I sure was counting. I always believed that the first sound of the alarm wasn't for me. I didn't know who it was but I never woke up at the first sound. Maybe the second or third. But this particular day, I was so weak that I lay there in bed till the fifth one. My eyes locked on the ceiling; it was pale white and not really pure white. I hadn't noticed it before until that morning. Maybe my senses were truly alert. My fan spun slowly above me, creaking slightly with every turn.
It was Monday morning. The most dreaded time of the week. And somehow I felt weak to get out of bed and go to work.
I finally got the motivation to roll to the other side of the bed and open the curtains. The sky was bright although the sun felt like it was still unsure of itself. The colorful grey morning sky peeked into my room. Exactly the kind that makes you long for your bed the more.
But I had an important meeting to attend to. The kind that determines if your effort at work is being noticed or not. The kind that makes your feet shake and your mouth stutter.
Slowly I sat up in bed. My short legs barely touch the floor. It was dangling in all corners. I stretched and dropped my feet to the floor, and then I got into my pink flip-flops. With all the strength in me I kneeled by the bed and said a little morning prayers and affirmations.
I could hear the noise in the distance. Lagos was fully awake. Restless as always.
I walked sluggishly to the kitchen and poured myself a cup of hot tea. A trick to get my mind awake and fully ready for the day. The dim rechargeable bulb in my kitchen pierced through the dark but I didn't care to one the big florescent kitchen light. I could find my way around my kitchen.
A few minutes later, I rushed to the bathroom. Although I craved a hot bath. I didn't have much time to wait for the heater. I turned the shower on and let the cold water run through my body. A little wiping of the right places, I got out of the bathroom and dried my body.
My clothes were already ironed from the night before. A navy blue dress with simple sleeves and clean lines. The perfect clothes that made me feel important. They sat there on the bedroom stool staring at me.
By 6:15am, I was already out of my house. The weather was cool that morning. The aroma of Akara being fried by the roadside filled my nose. So tempting that I craved some. But with the sight of the number of people waiting to buy. I gave up and hastened my step to the bus stop. It was better to be at work early with an empty stomach than get to work late.
A text from my colleague who lived in the same area as me dropped on my phone: “Traffic is building o. Hope you’re out already?”
I smiled. I was hopeful of making it in time before the traffic worsened.
A few minutes later. I was in a Danfo heading in my direction. For the first time since I came to Lagos, the bus was quiet. No preaching. No arguments. Just the steady sound of tires rolling over uneven tar.
Soon, we were slowing down. Till we got into a gentle crawl. Then a complete stop.
"Please, not this morning, Lord." I prayed.
But the number of yellow buses piling up together, dragging for space, gradually increased. I could see the impatience on the driver's faces. Traders were beginning to weave between cars with trays of bananas and bottled water.
I checked my time again.
6:53am. "I can still make it," I thought.
Then again.
7:27am.
Yet we haven't moved from our spot. Nothing at all had moved.
I was already getting agitated and disorganized. I was familiar with Lagos traffic but not that important morning. I sighed quietly and let my head fall back against the seat.
"Why this morning? Why this same road? Especially on days I have important things to do". I mumbled.
"Madam, na Lagos for you o. But no worry, them no go sack you ." The bus conductor said.
I turned to see him staring at me with a smile on his face. He must have overheard me mumble.
"Thank you," I replied. That was the first time I saw a Lagos bus conductor being kind.
I unbuttoned the top part of my blouse. It was beginning to cling to my skin. My makeup, too, felt like it was melting away. The sun was finally out. And I hadn’t even reached halfway.
I saw the man beside me trying to hide his frustration behind a deep yawn. Ahead, someone’s car had broken down. I realized that was the cause. One small unfortunate incident left thousands of people stuck.
But again, that was Lagos.
I glanced at the time again.
7:49am.
I couldn't deny it again. I was going to be late.
I sighed, not from frustration, but from quiet surrender. I had done everything right to be early to work but maybe the universe didn't agree with me.
I leaned to the window and whispered spontaneously.
“This must be Murphy’s city.”
Then I smiled.
8:37am, I checked the time again.
This time I knew I needed to find another way to work. People were already getting out of their cars and buses to trek. Luckily, I saw an empty bike passing by. I called out to it from the window and jumped out of the bus with the urgency of someone who’d seen too much already. Without bargaining, I jumped onto the bike.
"Speed as fast as you can." I couldn't believe I said that. Knowing how fast Lagos bike riders can be.
Then I felt it. The speed, the wind, the dust in my face. My blouse flappy all without a helmet.
I stepped into the office at exactly 8:57am. I looked like I had escaped a dragon's nest, but I didn't care. I rushed to the conference room where a few people were seated already.
I could tell I wasn’t early. But I wasn’t late either.
