I was startled, like the proverbial antelope that entered a newly brushed farmland, when I saw people wall up the road, waiting for vehicles. I thought I was alone.
Alone, in this business that would yield dividend in new set of leaders for my beloved country, Nigeria.
The passengers numbered about thirty. While I inched closer I saw their faces. Desire was written all over.
They want to exercise their civic right but one thing is holding them back. Vehicles –one that would take them to their various destinations.
Some were going to Ibusa and Kwale, others to Ogwashi-Uku. Mine was slightly different. I was heading to Ubulu-Uku, my hometown, about 30 kilometers from Asaba.
However, the vehicles were hard to come by. They were as few as the number of tooth on a child’s mouth. Each oncoming vehicle presented a glimmer of hope which soon faded away when it zooms through without stopping. ”
“All this people wicked ooo, dey no even wan help carry person. Na wao! I for kukuma siddon for my house, but I no wan waste this vote,” a man who should be in his early thirty, said.
“I no know wetin dey do them ooo! Why dey no do am make people fit vote anywhere sef?” a lady replied while we waited. “All these politicians whey dey find vote suppose arrange bus this early morning dey come carry people sef. They no know how many people wen sidon for house sake of say dey no see transport go vote?”
At some point, it appeared that I could finally be on my way to my home town. A vehicle could stop after being flagged down but the driver would say “Ibusa!” in response to “Ogwashi-Uku?” But soon, as the sun began to scorch our delicate skin, and with no means of movement in sight, my hopes of voting was now deflated, like a flat tyre.
The number of persons on the road was depleting faster than the ozone layer. Siren was blaring.
Military men with armored cars hovered around like hawks looking for a prey. We were still waiting when one of the armored cars with armed men began to move towards our direction, and before we knew it…