PART ONE - The agbero
In Nigeria, the most common definition of an agbero is "a razz (lemme be a proper english student, UNKEMPT) looking guy (I have never seen an agbero girl, pardon me sirs), who is found mostly on the street, at the parks, junctions, markets and rowdy places, collecting money and harrassing people".
The more enterprising ones undertake menial jobs, become bus conductors, and maybe when "privileged", work in a company for meagre pay. The funny thing is, they readily accept this "company" work because it sets them apart from their counterparts...kind of an edge...lol.
So, I am at the bus stop, on a monday morning, as early as 8am (to lagosians, that is LATE!!! For me?? Warefa mehn!), wearing a flowery blouse and a short navy blue skirt. Ogini???! Ayam not allowed to wear short skirt?? Abeg the world needs to see these bow legs once in a while. I cannot come and go and die!!
Ehen! I saw two queues. They have this transport system, the BRT buses, some are new (with ACs and better seats) and the others are old. I happened to buy my ticket for the old buses, not knowing I had a better option.
So the new buses would arrive, the people on the other queue would go in..while we on this queue were looking like lost fowls. I was puzzled. After the 3rd new BRT had picked them again, I asked this guy by my side, "the agbero"...why ours wasnt moving, and he explained everything in "not so good" english. Maybe he was trying to impress me, who knows??
Na there I buy market!! This "razz looking unkempt" guy would not stop talking to me. Strangely enough, I wasnt pissed, I was getting fascinated. I started listening to him, he talked about his work, and family and lagos.
I took a good look at him, he wasn't as good looking as some of the guys in suit at the bus stop, he was poorly dressed and hung one old school bag, with his "sandals turned slippers". He had something like carrot in his teeth, who knows if that's what he had for breakfast?? It wasnt his looks that attracted me, it was his boldness and attempt to be nice, to make me laugh.
Now the funny thing is, as I started conversing with this guy and giving him full attention, the side eye and bad looks I was getting from other "clean" looking people on the queue ehhh!! They probably had their university education in space, and their poo vapourizes. C'mon gerrrarahia mehn shit! U know waram saying?? Halla!
When our bus finally arrived, he paved the way, pushed people out of the way, and got a good spot for me. We had no seats, trust BRT na...when someone finally stood up, he blocked the seat and warned everbody off so I could sit. You would have thought he was my bodyguard. There was no dull moments with this young man (who maybe never had the opportunity we all had at proper education). When we parted ways, I got his number with the promise to call him. One day I will!!
PART TWO- The drunkard
We went to our villa for this yearly family reunion. This was my first time, and the 25th anniversary of the reunion. Relatives from all over the world converged in the village. Cousins I never knew existed were introduced to me, I even have a Don Jazzy cousin who performed at the venue...issorait!! Thank God you are my cousin!! I had some choice words for you, but I chose to swallow them.
So, I am sitting with my sisters, and here strolls this drunkard towards us, the thing is, he wasnt completely drunk, but you would know he was trying hard to be stable....lol
He came and was greeting us, welcoming us and asking questions. He actually introduced himself. I answered him as politely as I could, showing off my milk coloured teeth (awwww...dont be sad, they are not white). He hailed us once more and left. Sai!! Village english no be here oo....it can literally deafen you!!
Now see what happened next. They started sharing drinks, and the female ushers just passed us anyhow, as if we were invisible. In my mind, I was like, "if these village people think I came all the way to come and count goats and chicken, they must be joking". Dont blame me my darlings....i can do anything for coke.
After like 30mins more of watching other people gulp down their drink, From nowhere, fiam!! This drunkard appeared with half crate of drinks, specifically for me and my sisters. He shared it out himself and made sure we were comfortable...and I kept thinking over in my head, what if I had snubbed him??
Now let's keep coke aside, or any benefits attached to being nice.
The point is, it doesnt hurt to be nice to somebody. He doesnt have to be well packaged and speak queen's english before you talk to him. We are what we are today because of God's favour. Your hello, goodmorning, can go a long way to brighten someone's day, can lift up someone's damaged self esteem.
I didnt say you should hug every agbero and drunkard you see on the road oo, neither did I tell you to greet one another with a holy kiss. Just be polite.
Help comes from strange places these days. Think on this.
Have a lovely night rest.
JustVikkytorya
