Thursday, November 20, 2014

I DON’T FEAR HOO



This taxi driver is hilarious, I thought to myself, as he expertly manoeuvred his way through the stagnant queue of cars on the road. His antics and spur of the moment turning decisions, swerving or cutting in front of someone left behind a flurry of insults and hand gestures, punctuated by the angry blasts of overused car horns. This guy is going to get us, or rather himself, in trouble.

“Haha, see them! Them think sey we all want spend the whole day for here! My friend, in life there is a first and there is a last! As for me, my time is my money!” he said, excitedly. Perhaps it was the idea of cheating people on the road that excited him, or maybe it was something entirely different. I didn’t know. All I knew was that this man was a lunatic. And I couldn’t complain. After all, I was the one who had told him I was late for a meeting.

“Boss, them go hit your car oh!” I tried to hint at him to slow down. The idea only seemed to excite him more. He laughed harder, his laugh punctuated by an almost automatic swipe at his face with the car duster to rid it of sweat.

“Agyeii, you dey funny me! Them go do what? Hit which car? Hahahaha, make them try! Them born me for Ashaiman, I don’t fear hoo!” and as if to emphasise his statement he made yet another reckless swerve into a tight space that had just opened up between two cars. Again he dabbed at the sweat on his face.

All of a sudden the driver’s door was yanked open and standing outside was a very angry looking woman wearing a business suit. The driver didn’t even have a chance to talk before the woman started shouting at him.

“Massa why? Why? Are you okay? Are you a drunkard?! You think I bought my car cheap (eh?) so you can just drive in front of me anyhow. Useless man! Who is your boss? This is what I don’t understand about you village boys who think because you know small driving you own the streets. Foolish man! I’m going to write down your license number, you’ll be hearing from me! Fool.” And with that she was gone. And the dazed look on the face of the taxi driver was enough to make anyone cry from laughter.

The car in front of us moved and, for the first time since we found ourselves in traffic, the driver put on his indicator.

By Antony Can-Tamakloe