The Car/Cab sharing idea
I'm sitting in a traditional yellow taxi, quite comfortably, as a matter of fact, in the owner's corner. Never mind that I once used to hold people who I saw doing this in disdain. The cab has the mouldy smell that is characteristic of a rickety Lagos taxi. So, in a bid to get the freshest air I can afford in this situation, into my system, I'm postured towards the right-back window of the saloon car, facing the window directly. This means that a good amount of my attention is on the happenings on the surrounding roads.
I had left my source at closing hour, typical rush hour when virtually everyone hits the road. As usual, the bystanders at Bonny camp bus-stop of Victoria Island are in their hordes. They are waiting for the next bus, which when it eventually arrives, will take only the strongest to make it in, after a nasty episode of push and shove. I take a look at the array of generally young and attractive people at the bus-stop, ranging from the bank worker in his suit and tie, to the food vendor who is much less glamorously dressed. I feel a deep sense of empathy at the inconvenient but self-accepted plight of each of these people.
