By Andrew Okeleke
Kabir, a seasoned bus driver for a Houston transportation service, had seen it all. His expeditions across the United States had exposed him to the diverse cultural and behavioural attitudes of his passengers. From calm and collected to wild and unpredictable, each group left an indelible mark on his driving experience.
Penultimate Sunday’s journey from Dallas to Houston in Texas State in the US was no exception. Kabir was hired to chauffeur the guests of Mr. and Mrs. Bogwu to their son Michael’s wedding to Gloria Oyeneyin in Dallas. As he navigated the return journey from Dallas to Houston, Kabir couldn’t help but beam with enthusiasm.
“I’ve never met a group as vibrant and exciting as this,” Kabir exclaimed in his deep American drawl, his face radiating warmth. “They made my journey truly unforgettable – interesting people, indeed,” the driver enthused joyfully.
At 3.45 pm, the bus pulled at its head office in downtown Houston. The passengers disembarked, braving the scorching 90°F heat. Kabir efficiently unloaded their luggage from the bus trunk. His infectious smile mirrored the joy and camaraderie that filled the bus during their trip.
The ladies chorused a hearty “bye-bye” and waved enthusiastically to Kabir, their driver, as he drove out of the compound. One of the ladies described him as “a nice driver, very humble and calm.” Another lady, a bit older, added, “If he was a typical Nigerian driver operating a bus of this nature in Nigeria, he would have displayed some level of arrogance and authority over us during the trip.” She marvelled at Kabir’s warm and easy-going demeanour throughout the journey.
Indeed, the journey began that warm Sunday morning in front of the Marriott Dallas Allen Hotel and Convention Centre in Dallas, Texas. A black luxury bus had parked, and a slim, dark-complexioned young man, about 5.7 feet tall, stepped out to load the luggage. He politely stopped the ladies from rushing to pack their bags and instead offered to do it himself. He efficiently loaded the luggage and then asked if that was all he needed to carry. I replied, “Yes,” and was impressed by his zeal and focus. He looked strong and fit. Out of curiosity, I engaged him in a chat where he revealed that he enjoyed the company of his passengers and was at home with their boisterous nature. He spoke out of the experience because he had taken them two days earlier to Dallas for the wedding.
Kabir’s description of his passengers as “vibrant and exciting,” was apt because there was no dull moment throughout the journey. Soon after we hit the road, the speakers in the bus began to play popular Nigerian music, and the ladies, mostly in their 40s-55s, began to dance in the aisle. They displayed energetic dance styles, wriggling their waists and swinging their hips, reminiscent of their school days. Their daughters would have been envious of their mothers’ contemporary dance steps if they had been on the bus.
The ladies complemented their fun with light refreshments of assorted soda and snacks, which kept their energy level going. As I observed the road infrastructure and traffic rules in Texas, I was struck by the stark contrast with Nigeria. The roads were wide, smooth, and well-maintained, with clear markings and directional signs. There were no broken-down vehicles on the highways, and the traffic lights were functional. The drivers were obedient to the road rules, and there were no checkpoints along the 239-mile journey from Dallas to Houston.
Unfortunately, this is not the case in Nigeria, where road trips have become a death trap due to poor infrastructure and reckless driving. The traffic lights rarely work, and the roads are riddled with potholes or have collapsed. The presence of multiple security and traffic agencies on the roads has contributed to loss of lives, finances, and man-hours.
They came in legion. The Nigerian Army (NA), who supposedly scanned the vehicles to pick out suspected kidnappers or gunmen; the Nigeria Police Force (NPF), who often checked for stolen vehicles and criminals, yet ended up extorting vulnerable travellers; the Federal Road Safety Corps (FRSC), whose role was to check excessive loading or speeding due to the absence of electronic devices used in developed economies; VIOs, who pretended to check vehicle particulars; Nigerian Customs Services (NCS), who sniffed the vehicles to determine whether they were smuggled into the country through the Cotonou borders; Nigerian Immigration Services (NIS), who also pretended to be searching for illegal migrants. It is relevant to mention the Local Government Council officials who were deployed by state governments to collect taxes of all kinds from road travellers, yet the proceeds usually ended up in private purses.
But unlike what obtains on Nigerian roads, our journey was interrupted only once, at a small community called Madisonville, where Kabir stopped at a mall called BUC-EE’S. The mall was a bustling supermarket with an array of wears and items, including hot beef burgers. The aroma was strong and inviting, and the ladies enjoyed stretching their legs and buying snacks.
Madisonville reminded me of our own Ore in Ondo state, Nigeria, which used to be a confluence point for travellers between the East and West. However, while Ore has been neglected by successive state governments, Madisonville has a rich historical perspective, having been founded in 1853 by European-American settlers. The town has a population of about 4,500 people and is known for its small-town charm, historic architecture, and commercial hub.
As I reflected on the journey, I couldn’t help but wish for a day when Nigerian travellers could drive on our roads without fear. And the drivers would drive with all caution to maintain safety. I hope that day will come soon.
You can reach Andrew at Andy.okeleke@gmail.com
