Keke Drivers Have No Joy, They Will Change It For You

jonathan

July 8, 2014 11:07 AM

I am an Ajebutter. Not by birth, or by formings, or by swag – I am simply an unapologetic Ajebutter by default. I didn’t choose to be born one. God, without seeking my opinion (because He’s God, I guess), gave me the genes of an Ajebutter and a funny Bri-Merican accent . By luck or some twisted work of fate, fortune, Karma (I might have killed ten defenseless puppies in my past life) or destiny, I have found myself in Lagos, crazy Lasgidi, and this is my story…

Where did they find those things? Those 3-wheeled things that they call Keke Marwa. Where? From hell? Did Fashola (the Lagos State Governor) poop them out and refused to claim them? Or did it fall down from the sky with Oduduwa?

I hate Keke Marwas. Not because they look like African Tele-tubbies or because they sound like they are rusty babies without human souls, but mainly because of what they do to my mentality. They make me feel poor! And that's so unfair.

I am not poor, neither do I have plans to taste poverty, or become a charity case, but I get some weird feelings when I'm in a Keke. And those feelings, I'll not want to share with you, my darling reader, why? Because it makes me cry, and call for my Mummy. Help! I want my Mummy!

And then, as an Ajebutter who pronounces the butter as 'bu'er (the t is silent), 'bu'er', the sort of stories you hear from a Keke Marwa passenger are pure dirty Nollywood stuff. Woman kill man, Dog bite Agbero, Landlord give tenant big belle, Sugar Daddy 'thing' no gree work, Pastor and chorister use Bible clean yansh, Okada man thief phone, and rat chop Indomie.

You get the drift? All of those stupid and poor stories.

Tell me the last time you heard a Keke passenger talk about investment banking, dinner at The Ritz, trips to Ibiza for holiday, stashing away cash in the Caymans, shopping in Milan, swimming with the Dolphins at the Maldives, or owning real estate in Gijon! Never!

Let's switch to the drivers. Thanks to God, they're well mannered. Keke drivers are always quiet. They never talk, most of them do not like their jobs, so they don't smile. They just keep mute, like sheeps, and sad ugly cows. The black and white ones. I was once tempted to ask one if he actually ate grass, because he was looking very sheepish. I never did.

But never you take their quiet nature for weakness. They are quiet because they hate their jobs. It gives them little money, and nobody ever lived a happy life with minimum wage. Don't ever disturb or get into a fight with a Keke driver, because he won't be fighting you alone, all his hatred for the world will also come into the fight, and I, Joey Akan, can bet top dollar that he'll whoop your ass every time.

Joy is seriously lacking in their lives, so respect yourself and respect your hustle. That's why each time I find myself in a Keke, I simply shut my mouth, keep all my confused Brimerican accent to myself, and look sheepish.

A sheep cannot change it for another sheep. Because in the end, all sheepish people respect other sheepish people.

Peace and good hustle. Respect the Keke Marwa hustle. See you next Tuesday.

jonathan