I was in Lagos

It was my first day in Lagos, and I was so happy because, finally, I just enlisted myself in the group of people that have been to the most talked-about city in Nigeria. I was so ready to bag a lot of experiences to have something to say whenever I and my friends are found boasting of the different cities visited and the goodies therein.

For sure, I had a lot of experiences, and at a time, I almost exhibited the village guy stuff, but I was mature enough to comport myself.

My first ear-tickling moment was when I saw an aeroplane some inches away from the top of the bus I was in.
We just arrived in Lagos after endless hours of sitting in the squeezed Siena car. I f didn't know we just entered Lagos untill I was told by the passenger beside me. I was sitting next to the lady who was very close to the window, and suddenly, a very deep voice took over everywhere. I was so sceptical and began to look around from the window after the lady. I didn't know what the noise was all about, and this lady was looking at my behaviour awkwardly.
She noticed how curious I was, and she couldn't hold her mouth. She asked, "Do you want to see the aeroplane? That's the aeroplane, because I can see that you don't know."

Oh boy, her words slapped me heavily with embarrassment. The other people around us heard her and turned in our direction.
I know she meant well, but she shouldn't have said it like that. Some people lack manners for real.

I didn't mind her; since I was embarrassed already, I still fixed my eyes on the window to see the big-sized aeroplane crawl out from the top of our bus. I could see the tires out. Exactly how I saw it in movies, and I was wowed! City life is actually sweet because they have to see all these amazing things with ease.

It's not like I'm from a very typical rural setting, no. It's just that I haven't been to the airport, and the closest I've been to an airplane is those helicopters transporting goods to the evil forest, as we usually call it.

After we had come down from the bus, I called the person I was visiting, and I was directed to use a motorcycle to find my way to the street.

I stopped a bikeman, an Hausa bikeman, because his clothing was obvious, and I confirmed it when he talked.
I gave him the address, he nodded his head, and said I should enter.

"How much is the fare?" I asked to avoid cheating because I've heard so much about it in Lagos.

"Oga, enter, let's go." This man positioned his bike for me to enter, ignoring my question about price.

"Oh! Hausa people, they don't like money," I said in my mind as I entered on top of the motorcycle.
I was still resting my leg when this man said I should hold myself well.
Oh! That was the time I remembered what they said about Hausa bikemen. I sat very well and used my two hands to hold the seat firmly.

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Guys! This bikeman kicked the bike and began to fly over gallops, and this made me hold tight to the seat so tightly. I looked at him, and I was surprised at how relaxed he was on the bike; he was not feeling any up-and-down swings at all, while I was being taken to heaven and returning to earth at the same time.
I began to wonder how he was cool throwing the bike up and down as if death is not a not a thing. Maybe he has a spare life somewhere.
When we finally dropped, I praised the Lord that I survived the Temple Run.