“Ramoni!  Is there no way to get out of this traffic jam?”  Chief Kasali shouted.  I stretched my neck, pretending to look right and left, as if we were not sitting between two SUVs in our Mercedes 550.  As usual, Chief was sitting in the owner’s corner, driving from the back seat.  Four hours now, it has been, “Ramoni, move right.”  “Ramoni, move left.”  “Ramoni, follow that car.”  With all his noise, we have not moved kobo and I cannot even think clearly to make an important decision.

“Did you not hear me?  I said, can’t you find a way out of this hold up?  My meeting with Chairman was an hour ago.  Now, I’m beyond late ke!”

“Oga, traffic bad today o,” I said in a low tone.  Truly, I didn’t care.  Just be quiet and let me have the peace of mind to think.  There’s enough noise from car horns, agbero boys, traders, and thieves outside the car.  I don’t need noise inside.  It’s not as if I can carry the car on my head and “find a way out of this hold-up.”

“I think those SUV boys are just dominating the road.  You see that big one over there, it’s been pushing cars out of its way.  I think I’ll buy that kind.”

Then the vrrroooom of a charter flight blocked our ears.  Chief scooted up his seat and shook my shoulder, “Ramoni, look up there.  After this contract, hen, I will buy my own plane.”

“Yes sir!”  I couldn’t wait to drop him at home.  My mind is made up.  I would run for Local Government Chair.  Nobody will buy a plane when my people cannot even eat!

(From Life and Love on 3rd Mainland).