“Please” the lorry station master indicated to the last remaining seat. I hesitated for a moment: the half bent seat was already occupied by another man but apparently if I squeezed myself in it was worthy of a full fare. The seat at the back of the van was bent in such a way that I could fall out the backdoor at any moment. The station master reassured me by showing me a small latch that held the door to the rest of the car.
It’s amazing how quickly your standards drop when you adapt to your environment. I jumped into the van wrapping my fingers around the seat beside me for security. I prayed that someone would disembark soon so I could claim their seat before we got to the highway where the driver would accelerate to 100km/hr.
Ten minutes into the journey, the sky turned black and the wind picked up. A storm was brewing but it didn’t take long before the clouds broke loose and torrential rain came down. The wind and rain beat the van ferociously as the passengers on board struggled to close the windows. The door barely shielded me from the rain and the roof started to leak. The kind man I was plastered next to pulled out his rain jacket and covered my legs. Another gentleman tried to hold up the carpeting on the ceiling of the van to stop it from leaking on me. I smiled with gratitude trying to take no notice of a leak behind me that was travelling down my back and into my underwear.
But getting wet was the last of my worries. My eyes were fixed at the driver who skillfully carried on with NO WIPERS and, what I imagined to be, semi-functional brakes. Mind you, activating the wipers would have been a perfunctory gesture in the torrent. With slippery and flooded roads to navigate; potholes to negotiate; open gutters to avoid; (By His Grace) the driver miraculously managed to arrive at the destination with his cargo intact.
Abena
No comments:
Post a Comment