The Bad Road

I balance the suya on my lap, hold the ice cream in one hand, and put the Fanta in the polythene bag to drink later.

I can't help but be curious about the boy behind me. I wonder what he's doing. Maybe I'll find an excuse to sneak a peek at him without being too obvious. Or maybe I should just mind my own business and not get too caught up in daydreams!

My phone blares 'ring ring, ring ring' loudly, and I cringe.

Did I forget to turn down the volume again?

The caller ID flashes my brother Peter's name.

I hesitate, aware that the bus is eerily quiet, except for the wind howling in my ears.

If I answer, our conversation might be overheard. But if I use my earbuds, I can keep our chat private.

I quickly plug them in and answer softly, "Hello?"

"Hello Amanda, hello!"

"Yes, I can hear you, go on"

"Hello, I can't hear you, hello!"

What's wrong? Why isn't he hearing me? Could it be the network, or could it be because I'm talking too low?

I bring the phone closer to my mouth. "Hello, Peter, can you hear me now?"

"Yes, yes, I can hear you. Are you guys there yet?"

"Nope."

"Are you close?"

"No, Mum said we haven't even gotten anywhere."

He starts laughing. "The Lord is your strength."

"You're not okay."

"When you get there, just let us know."

"No problem. Bye then." He cuts the call.

I just pray we get there early. I don't want to spend the night still on the road.

I put my phone away and begin to unwrap the suya, feeling at ease since others around me are still eating.

I bite the corner of the ice cream bag and savor the familiar taste - it's just as delicious as I remembered!

Using the toothpick the suya vendor included, I enjoy the tender meat, relishing the flavor.

It's moments like these that I love about traveling, the simple pleasures that make the journey worthwhile.

"Hello," the man next to me says. He's on a call.

"Ah, omo, we still dey far. We never even reach that Benin bypass. (We are still far, and we haven't even gotten to Benin bypass.)"

I know we are still far, but what is Benin bypass?

"My uncle wey travel on Thursday, spend two days on the road because of that holdup (I have an uncle that travelled on Thursday, and he spent two days still on road because of that holdup)," he says again.

Oh Lord! What does he mean? We are not going to the same place, right?

"Onitsha still far like mad, I no know when we go reach. I dey go Orlu, and tomorrow na lockdown (onitsha is still far and I don't know when we are gonna reach. I'm going to orlu, and tommorow is lockdown there)," he says.

Eh? He's going to the exact place as me? Jesus Christ! Which lockdown? Am I missing anything?

"Na to just reach that place fast because I dey fear night travel, ( I just hope we get there soon, because I fear night travel)," he continues.

I know night traveling can be dangerous, but the way he said it makes me scared?

"Them go just burst person head, carry all our belongings go, (they'll kill us and take all our belongings)" he adds.

I gasp, my breath catching in my throat. How did I not know this?

Panic sets in as I realize the gravity of our situation.

Oh Lord, please help us arrive early.

"Ehhh, I go call you back later, abeg (yes, I'll call you back later)," he says, and I think he's about to hang up the call.

Bypass? Holdup? Killing? Oh Lord, please don't let it be any of our portion.

I pass the remaining suya to my mom and continue indulging in my ice cream.

I instinctively reach for my phone to divert my attention, but amidst the bustling surroundings, I'm unsure what to do with it.

Usually, when alone in my room, I find plenty of ways to keep myself occupied on my phone, but now, I'm at a loss.

I put it back in my pocket and decide to appreciate the scenery around me instead, taking in the sights and sounds of the outside world.

"Ah, hello," a woman says loudly, everybody could hear her. Doesn't she feel wierd that everybody can hear her conversation with the person she's talking to?.

"We never reach oh. We never even cross that Benin bypass. Holdup go dey, today na Sunday (we haven't gotten there, we haven't even gotten to Benin bypass and today is Sunday, there would be holdup)," she says.

Why is she bringing back those forgotten thoughts? Like, what is this Benin bypass thing?

"Ehh, okay," she laughs, "okay, bye-bye," she says.

I recline my head on the seat's headrest, gazing out the window.

The man beside me rests his head against the seat in front of him, engrossed in his phone.

I find the trees and bushes outside breathtakingly beautiful.

We spend a significant amount of time on the road, likely hours, and my head remains turned, captivated by the scenery. Meanwhile, the man next to me has dozed off, his head leaning on the headrest.

Most passengers have fallen asleep, so I rest my head on my mom's seat, feeling drowsy myself.

My eyes have been fixed on the outside view for too long. Sleep starts to overwhelm me, and I surrender to it.

Suddenly, I hear someone exclaim, "oh God, this is what I feared!" followed by murmurs of discontent.

I lift my head to investigate and find that the bus has come to a halt, enveloped in an oppressive heat.

I glance outside and am taken aback - the road is jammed with cars, mud everywhere, and even trailers stuck in the mire.

I reach for my phone to check the time and see that it's already 1 pm. Where are we?

I tap my mom. "Mommy, where are we?" I ask.

"Benin bypass o," she says.

So this is the Benin bypass?, It's really messed up. Like, no cars are literally moving, and the cause is obvious, bad road.

I pull off my jacket, I can't live with this heat.

"Open door abeg, person dey feel heat, (open the door, I'm feeling heat)" a woman shouts.

The driver gets out and opens the door, and the breeze comes rushing in, along with the sunlight.

Some people start getting out to walk around, including my mom and the man next to me, but I choose to stay in, I don't have any business outside.

Few people are left in the bus, mostly little children and teenagers my age, including the boy behind my seat.

I shed my jacket and switch seats to claim the window spot, craving the fresh air and view.

I gaze out to see the cars in the adjacent lane moving, a stark contrast to our stationary bus.

My mind wanders to my Fanta, and I recall stashing it in the bag.

As I turn to retrieve it, my eyes inadvertently lock onto the boy behind my original seat.

He's shed his hoodie, revealing a black top and braided twists framing his face.

Our eyes meet, and I swiftly avert my gaze, feeling a flush rise to my cheeks.

I busy myself by fetching the Fanta from the bag, deliberately avoiding eye contact.

I take a refreshing sip, trying to shake off the embarrassment.

Despite my efforts, I sense his gaze still on me, making my face burn with awkwardness.

I can't help but wonder why I was caught staring for so long.

My attention shifts to the ominous change in weather - dark clouds gathering, wind picking up pace.

The vehicles around us remain stagnant, especially the larger ones.

The thought of spending the night stuck here sends a shiver down my spine.

Oh Lord, please help us!

The wind intensifies, and the sky darkens further, casting a sense of foreboding over our stranded bus.

"Come inside o, rain wan fall, (Get in, it's about to rain)" the bus driver shouts, getting into the bus.

As people begin to reboard, I quickly return to my seat, making room for the man beside me.

The rain starts to drizzle, eliciting mixed emotions from me - I love the rain, but I know it'll worsen our situation.

Feelings of hopelessness sweep over me as I worry we might not make it to our destination today.

But then, the rain intensifies, and people scramble to close the windows.

The man beside me shuts his, and I hear the sound of engines roaring to life. Is this a miracle?

Our bus starts moving, slowly but surely, and I breathe a sigh of relief.

We're not the only ones - other vehicles are moving too! I don't care what the reason is, I'm just thrilled we're making progress.

After what feels like an eternity, we finally leave the Benin Bypass behind and merge back onto the main road.

I cling to the hope of arriving early, despite the delays we've faced.

As I settle back into my seat, my eyelids grow heavy once more, and I surrender to the allure of sleep, hoping that when I wake, we'll be closer to our destination.