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| ZUBA |
Zuba! Zuba!! Zuba!!! Oga you no dey go?
A man alighted a cab at the junction where I stood waiting for a cab and as I looked into the car, I saw the three unfriendly faces – they reminded me of the kind of faces we saw way back when we begged to be dropped at Dutse junction after we had scaled fences to return home without due permission from the school authority – this is a familiar story of students of GSS Kuduru, as it is called.
I was already late for work that day, and to make those faces the reason not to board the cab, I didn’t consider. I greeted them with a pretentious smile and as expected, they whispered something that sounded more of a treat than a greeting – affirming my dread for their faces. No one spoke a word while we journeyed. Not too long, another passenger, a broad shouldered man, with beard that almost made him look like one of those people, he wore a cap that half-covered his head, ‘attire’ that revealed no skin and shoes that announced his belief in every piece that was revealed.
