Rain Check
GENERAL
Mayowa Ojo
6/10/20264 min read
Hey readers, It's been a minute (weeks really) since I put anything up here and my conscience won't just let me go one more week. #apologies
Hope you like this read. It's a short one. Enjoy and leave a comment if you want to, like if you do or are just happy I'm back. hehe
From the second I picked him up and started the trip I could feel his unease. For him the sight was unusual but for me, a norm that refused to age. He tried to be casual about it but I was not fooled. We rode in silence for a few minutes. The trip was going to last about thirty minutes so I knew there was time to allow the tremors of the initial shock to reverberate.
“I will say, I was not expecting this!”
“What?” I said, feigning ignorance even though I knew quite well what he was talking about.
He was referring to the fact that his taxi driver was female. Although I readily informed him that I was not the only one, he did not look like he was buying it.
He spoke with a faint foreign accent, the residues of time spent abroad. I remember when I used to have that but it’s all gone now. Lagos has a way of taking that away from you… assuming it mattered anyway.
“What do you do?” I asked him.
“Oh I work in the finance sector.”
“That’s a rather vague answer unless of course you work in the finance department of a secret agency!”
He laughed.
“This should be interesting!” he muttered.
We got into an intense conversation about the finance sector, the most recent being the currency trade between China and Nigeria. He shared his opinions and I shared mine, subtly stating that macroeconomics was not my forte to which he snorted. We did agree about the benefits it would have on the economy in an ideal situation where policies were put in place but knowing our leaders… we both stopped talking at that point, unsure if the other party was working with or had connections in high places.
“You’ve got some strong arguments woman,” he said after a few minutes of the financial banter. “This may sound ridiculous considering I can see what you do but what do you really do?”
“I’m a Lagos taxi driver…”
“Who just happens to understand how an economy works down to the finer macroeconomic details of something so vague to most Nigerians even with Masters degrees!”
“What can I say? I listen to the radio a lot…occupational hazards of being a driver…” I shrugged.
He smiled. He did not believe me. As if to ease an abused person out of their shell, he let me into his own world with one single statement. “I went to LSE. You?”
“New haven,” I instinctively said. The words were out of my mouth before I realised it.
His eyes almost popped out of his head when I looked at him in the rear view mirror.
“You’re an IV leaguer?!” It was both a question and a dawning for him.
I was silent and tried to focus on my driving. We both knew the school I went to and it almost seemed too hallowed for him to enunciate.
“What are you doing driving a taxi? Did you drop out? Did you lose your license? What did you even study?”
Of the many ways I imagined this trip would go, this was the farthest from my imagination.
When he would not stop asking questions, I started laughing. I imagine he thought I was crazy but it was a ruse, albeit a lame and anxious attempt.
“What’s so funny?” he asked, nonplussed.
“How seriously you’re taking this."
“Oh?”
“With this job I’m able to do two of the things I love the most – drive and meet people. At the moment I’m on a one-year hiatus from my regular job while I nurse my first child. She’s going on two years now. I drop her at the crèche and get into a taxi. I work till a little past noon and then go pick her up and my day is complete!”
Even as I said the words I could not believe how easily they flowed off my tongue. The rest of the trip was quiet in the car. I felt like my head would explode from the pressure of the silence in the car.
He finally got out of the car and handed me his card.
“If you ever need a job or need someone to bounce ideas off, call me. This of course is me assuming I don’t call you to pick your brain first.” We both smiled.
With those words I could tell he knew I was lying but was honourable enough not to prod. I’ve always been bad at acting. I went off the taxi grid and headed home two hours earlier than I was scheduled to. I needed to clear my head.
As I drove home I wondered if he would ever know that I have a Masters degree in engineering and an MBA but was living in a nightmare of a marriage where I was not "allowed" to work simply because my husband holds on to archaic ideals. I wondered if he would ever know that the taxi job was only on days when my husband was not in the country (and that was almost half the year in total). I wondered what the possibilities were if I could be allowed to work remotely and the fulfilment it could bring to me. I wondered if my marriage was worth keeping over my happiness. My conversation with him reopened paths in my brain I had forgotten existed. It was time for a rain check.