“On this day, I declare to myself that unless pushed to the wall by dire situations beyond my control, or unless there be no other option under the sun or unless someone else is paying (this option is still subject to change), I will not employ the services of a taxi!”
I’m dead serious about the above statement, people! No exaggerations! I have had the worst of experiences with taxi drivers over the period of one year or so, and I’ve learnt enough. Thanks to school, I’m always hidden on top on a beautiful hill in the town (which most of my friends would rather call a village) of Berekuso. The only times I leave school are when I have to go home or attend an important meeting. The roads leading to both my house and school have one thing in common: they are the results of terrible governance and as such are dusty and ‘car-destroyable’. Hence, the only reason I will sit in a taxi is when the driver has confirmed that he knows the location very well to avoid any catastrophes. Extra facts about these two towns:
- They are not big towns so as long as you agree to knowing the place, there’s no way a complaint can be made that the exact location is too far.
- There doesn’t exist a single tarred road, at least not yet. So once again, a complaint cannot be made that the road will wreck your car and so demand extra money because I’m in the middle of nowhere, once you confirm to knowing the place very well.
And yet these drivers have tortured me in their rickety cars insulting up to my seventh generations that I was evil enough to bargain with them for a journey that could lead to a different country, even threatening to stop their cars and leave me in the middle of the streets because they have kids at home. Forgetting that if they had been fortunate enough to have married my mum, I might have been one of them.
I’m sticking with my strong legs when I can, calling up a friend for a perch-up when possible because I don’t drive and more importantly, embracing my faithful ‘trotro’ buses! At least I can save my money and alight with my dignity unmarred because no human decides to verbally abuse me for free because my mother brought me up well enough so I do not return his insults with words that will be hereditary enough to affect his eighth generations.
“I forgive y’all drivers who have hurt me so bad. I forgive you but you won’t be seeing my face no more. And I’ll make sure my kids drive really early so they don’t meet any of your family members or behavioural relatives in the years to come. So help me God.”