I have never been up north before. I have never even left Enugu since I was born. Never thought I would one day.
This trip is in part, a journey to the fulfillment of a mandatory national exercise.
I'm cramped up in a Toyota Hiace bus, with 12 other people. It's a 2008 model, popularly known in this part as the "Hummer" bus. The interior is neat but old, and the crisp smell of air conditioning envelopes the air in the vehicle.
The driver is dressed in an Official blue blazer, as mandated for all God Leads Transport (GLT) drivers informally known as "pilots" by the company. His frame is burly, and his facial features are accentuated with a clean-shaven beard, neatly trimmed to form an almost square shape around his mouth. His eyes are deep-set, with little bags underneath, to detail on years of long-distance driving and accumulated hours spent on the road. His matching blue pants are unevenly patched to smoothness; an effect combined from continuous wear and hot-iron pressing over time.
The windows of the Hiace are curtained with blue flowery silk cloth material, bright but old enough to reveal their usage over time. There's little light coming in from the edges, where the curtain stiles end. Despite how old the bus might be, the neat interior sheds little light on the age of the bus. It has been properly maintained.
The stereo is playing a collection of Afro-fusion songs, and the rich voice of various Nigerian Artists can be heard coming in from the 4 speakers evenly situated on the roof of the bus in a straight line, positioned from the first row of seats to the last one at the back of the bus.
I'm seated on the right-hand side with a window view and the first passenger on the last row of seats. Despite being one of the first passengers to buy a ticket and make a seat selection, it's fast beginning to turn out like I made the wrong choice.
My seat position is situated on top of the right-rear tire. The haphazard maintenance to this area of the bus has turned out badly for the wheel. There's creaking and squeaking for the slightest bump on the road, and the dire condition of the route to the northern part of Nigeria from Enugu did not help matters.
While struggling with this turnout of events, I'm seated next to a lady with three kids; who has obtained only 3 tickets for the trip, and is bent on turning a 3-man seat allocation to contain all 4 of its current occupants. As usual, it is the Nigerian nature to expect the other party to understand without complaint. A murmur or word of complaint would only ensure that the rest of the trip would be a very uncomfortable one for me, so I swallow my distaste and bear the journey in unexpressed anger.
The space in front of me -a feature designed by the makers of the Hiace model, to provide legroom for anyone seated in my current position- and the only consolation I would have gotten from all these, were filled up when the bus had loaded the maximum allowed the number of passengers, and it was time to "load" the baggage. I had paid little attention to the items besides the bus when boarding until the designated "agbero" responsible for loading started pushing in items under our seats, and every other available space he could set his eyes on. My supposed leg space, the largest open space in the bus took the bulk of load ranging from traveling bags, food items, and waybill meant for their respective owners waiting at our destination. The bus was bound for Kaduna state, a supposed eight-hour journey.
There are three rows of seats, plus the driver's section with a passenger's seat for two persons. This in total, accounted for eleven passengers, and 1 driver. We are thirteen, with my row of seats accommodating the extra passenger hence my current predicament.
I had just graduated from the Enugu State Science and Technology University, from a four-year course with a Bachelor of Science degree in Electrical Engineering. As part of the mandatory one-year National Youth Service Corps, I had been deployed to the northern state of Kaduna, to serve my country after the mandatory two weeks in camp.
