More than an experience

I feel like a man on a quest as I get in one of the three front seats of a 15-seater bus heading to Lagos from Ibadan, and like all quests my reward is the newly launched iPad. As the engine starts, the feeling of pending disaster that haunted me with the rising of the sun rises once more, like the other times during the day; I dismiss it with the happy thoughts of the awesome apps and cool features that await me at the end of the journey.

As we travel I become accustomed to the rocking rhythm of the swerves made by the bus driver to dodge the potholes in the road. My attention is in the lyrics of the songs playing from my iPod, ignoring the forest scenery that has a quality of quietness and calm.

I am jolted by the sound of a gunshot. Three men armed with a hunting rifle and machetes, stand no more than 150 meters in front of us. The bus driver attempts to reverse but we get stuck us in the tall grass and mud that divides the road between vehicles traveling in opposite directions.

The driver abandons bus and takes off, his short and sturdy legs carrying him to safety. The elderly male passenger beside me attempts to follow but trips over his enormous suitcase which he carried with him. I am galvanized into action by the opening of the side door of the bus, as a passenger dives into the tall grass beside the bus, I follow suit without much thought and another passenger does the same.

From where I lay, I hear but barely see the robbers who have now reached the bus demanding for all bags and purses from the remaining passengers.

After a few minutes I no longer hear nor see the most active participants of this reality show which I am an unwillingly character in. Scared and unsure if the danger has passed, a face with the same complexion as ours appears, spotting the cap consistent with the outfit of the Nigerian police. We quickly state who we are to avoid being mistaken for the men that had caused to hide.

I feel the refreshing flow of relief as I get up, stained from the grass and mud that had served as both hindrance and shelter. As we gather up to leave, I know a part of me has been left behind. The part that could never empathize with armed robbery victims and the worse things that it sometimes comes with it. In my mind I construct a tombstone to my indifference that has died in the grass and mud, never to be forgotten.