My Sojourn In The Brown Roof City(IBADAN); The Fulani Woman In The Bus
A journey with yet another twist. Seated close to me in the bus was the woman responsible for this twist. Dark skinned, with a shining touch of melanin, a descent of the Fulani origin.
Obviously, her Fulani traits were very evident, her stature, composure, and her adornments. It just doesn't take long to recognize the Fulanis.
It's Cephas you know, and it's pretty hard for me to have someone from another tribe sit with me, and I wouldn't have a proper conversation with the person in question. I made that decision long time ago in order to lose my tribal bias, I just want to be detribalized, you can't blame me, one of the cankerworms eating up the peace of Nigeria is tribalism.
But there was an issue in starting a conversation with this woman, she spoke only her local dialect. Attempts made by her to communicate with us sounded like a gibberish kind of Yoruba that would take a well studied gesticulation to understand.
That was the river that parted our two lands, we couldn't meet, converse even though she stayed very close to me. Not even a short tete a tete was possible.
As sad as that was, I kept my gaze on her, trying to demystify the tribe that has been labelled as terrorists, perhaps I might get a clue from that gaze. . Are they truly terrorists? A question left to wander in my heart.
My gaze perused her stern face, and wondered how difficult it would be to get a smile out of the face, since she wasn't with her people.
Thank goodness she never caught my gaze on her, I would have been damned embarrassed. Big boy Cephas would have been in the mud. Couldn't have been caught off guard, looking at a lady.
Sóólè - That was the name of the bus I took. It literally means drop it off. A kind of bus you take that's not from the garage. Risky! If you would ask me. But for an average Nigerian, nothing is too risky if it's going to be cheaper. That's where Baba Buhari has led us. A skyrocketing inflation above 20%.
Due to the nature of the bus, people were privileged to drop off in nearby towns, most especially in the ancient city of Òyó. That was my first sight of Alaafin's land. Alaafin is the title of the king in Oyo town.
We were about exiting Oyo, when the twist manifested. The Fulani Woman uttered some words and made gesticulations, she gave us some very strong signs which was difficult to ignore, she was calling the attention of the driver. Something definitely was wrong, but the language barrier wasn't helping any of us.
Seated close to her, my nerves were heating. I was lost. Could it be a terrorist attack? Your mind is limitless of it's thoughts at the slightest communication of danger.
The driver was left with no choice but to apply a strong push on the brake, grounding motion to a halt. Newton's law of motion proved itself again, we jerked forward.
She hurriedly got down from the bus with a bottle of water, and we were all left bewildered, with our attention fixed on her. What would she do?
To our surprise, all she wanted to do was ease herself. It was obvious she had been deeply pressed, with pain in her bladder. The micturition reflex wasn't taking it easy on her and she couldn't hold it any longer.
Immediately I saw that, the surge of dopamine earlier in my body went downhill.
She finished her mission, relieved, entered the bus and the journey continued.
What led to whole hullabaloo? Simple communication.
Communication has not been made until the other party fully understands what has been said.
In this case, language was the barrier, but many times ignorance is!
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I love you.