Lagos Living With Bukky

Lagos living is no fun without Bukky. Bukky is one of those friends that you wonder if anything can ever get them sad or down. They are the sanguines of the sanguines.

I am happy to go out with Bukky because I can hide behind her flair and just enjoy whatever it is that’s going on. All attention is always on her and I love it that way. Plus she makes me laugh. 

Like anytime we enter a bike and the bike man starts to ride recklessly, Bukky would tap him, laugh a laugh that carries plenty hidden meanings and then say, ‘Oga olokada. Drive slow. Drive gently. Na me dey tell you make you drive gently now. Na me sabi why. You no even sabi whether person get belle, you just dey drive as if I beg you make you comot belle for me. I dey tell you now o!’ 

And it always works. The bike man would slow down and apologize profusely. I am always surprised to learn that these reckless riding bike men can actually move gently. 

But there was this time we were on a bike coming back from this woman 10 streets away from Bukky’s place who sold zobo that was to die for (according to Bukky). 

She had bundled me there and made me spend about N1,500 buying bottles of zobo to cart home; even though I had taken a sip of the zobo and told her that I thought it was too sugary. 

While we were on the reckless ride home, she kept repeating her warning and threat of abortion. The bike man probably had to go poop because he wasn’t having any of what Bukky was saying. He was speeding through portholes and speed bumps. It was so bad that at some point I began to believe that Bukky and I would both lose the babies that we were not even pregnant with. 

Bukky kept shouting to no avail. And then suddenly she stop shouting. I felt her hand go to the zobo nylon I held and before I could understand what was happening, she pulled one out, opened the bottle and poured it all over her white shorts. 

Then in the loudest voice ever, she yelled and begged the bike man to stop. Almost tripping us off the bike, the bike man stopped and Bukky rolled on to the floor. She was crying and shaking and clutching her stomach. Her white shorts was covered in red and people were already gathering round. 
Immediately I understood what was going on, I put my hand on my head, grabbed the shirt of the bike man and said, ‘You have killed my friend today! She said you should slow down o. It’s not as if she didn’t tell you she was pregnant. Ah! You will rot in jail for this. I promise you. You have killed an innocent child. Ah! Her husband is in the army o. Ha! It has finished for you and your family. You are a wicked man! See what you did to my friend’ 

The man prostrated flat and was crying and begging. I was getting angry for real now and was shouting and saying ‘Why are you on the floor? Are you trying to sleep with air to conceive any other child for my friend??? Ehn?’ 

Apparently that was funny to Bukky because her tears turned to laughter and she stood up and started laughing. Then she looked at the bike man and said, ‘Bros, listen to me. In your life, you see me? You run. You carry anybody wey tell you say make you no dey rush, you what? You calm down. The thing wey you dey rush go meet now, wetin e do for you in this dilemma? You lucky say Na only zobo pour for my sokoto. If na my unborn child true true, you for don dey show your gate pass to Angel Michael now. Rubbish! Comot from my sight joor!’ 

I love Bukky. 

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