Sunday Nite

Monday mornings in Lagos have always been hectic. People opening their shops and offices as early as six thirty am; Traffic will have moved to a slow pace that even a snail would complain. Drivers in a mad frenzy, overtaking each other as if the price to be won was much more than getting to the office. I was driving in one of these Monday morning madness when I heard a loud sound “GBOAAA’ at the back of my car. It actually wasn’t my car. My dad asked me to run an errand very early in the morning; reluctantly he gave me the car keys so that I would be quick about what I was going to do.
I looked at the mirror, it was a yellow hummer. I was very pleased. I began to hum tony tetuila’s “you don hit my car…oyinbo repete’ as I came out of my vehicle.
A large man in a very expensive suit came out of the hummer and looked at me. With disdain he looked at my Honda civic 2001 model and hissed. I looked at him, contempt written all over my face. See this man o! you bash my car you come dey form badt guy. Wa san wo ku.
“How much will it cost?” he asked, looking at his watch. So I am wasting your time abi? I thought…I looked behind his car and saw that the line at the back of his car was increasing geometrically. People were beginning to get impatient. Horns blaring loudly as drivers of the popular danfo buses rained curses at us
“three fifty thousand.” I said
“Three wetin?” he asked shocked.
“So you can speak pidgin, you come dey form street. Na your papa lay the coal tar.” You go pay money today. You dey form because you dey drive hummer abi?”
He looked at me laughed.
“Okay, three fifty it is.” He went into his car brought out his cheque book, wrote the amount on a check and gave it to me. He also gave me his card when he saw that I did not trust cheques. The card showed that he worked at one of the top companies on Marina Street. I was pleased; I removed my car from his way and drove straight to complete my mission.
I got to the bank when I finished running the errand for my dad. As the cashier was about to give me the money, someone came from behind and gave a nice slap. I looked back and saw my younger brother
“Stand up joor; daddy said you should wash the car that he is going out.”
I noticed I was on my bed. I was angry with him; it was if I should carry him and break his head on the ground. Why was it when I was about to collect the money that he came to wake me up.
The throes and woes of dreaming nice dreams in a house full of people.