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It was just 11 in the morning but I was already prepared for my 12 o'clock lecture. The sun was out in its full brilliance but that wasn’t my reason for deciding to take a bike to school when I could have walked. The reason was that I wanted to be in school earlier than usual. Only those who made it earlier than usual or had friends who made it earlier had the chance to sit down during lectures. I had thought that the university would be an improvement on the secondary school system I left two years ago but my disappointment knew no bounds. The university was an epoch far behind the secondary school system.
In our quasi lecture halls with few benches, an extra effort was needed to see the lecturer and maybe hear him. At times one was considered lucky if he were inside as most times students listened from outside. Albeit, some choose the outside to avoid the heat, many were forced out due to lack of space. I wanted to make it inside and if possible get a seat because so much depended on attending Mr. Onwukwe’s lecture. He had no handouts or test books to sell; the student’s only recourse was the lecture and some text books left by Lord Lugard after the amalgamation; which adorned the universities library. My only choice was to make it in time.
I had just left my hostel and was hurriedly walking towards the school and at the same time looking out for a bike when I ran into Uche, my course mate.
“Hi, Uche what’s up?”
“Hello, I’m okay. Are you going to school?” she asked.
“Yes, I bet you are going to school too?”
“Sure, but I want to bike. Are you trekking?”
“Not on your life, you think you’re the only one that needs Onwukwe’s lecture?”
“No! Well, you are welcome to bike. Nobody is stopping you,” she replied.
We were still exchanging the banter when we flagged down a passing bike; and as usual the ladies took the first plunge. I had no qualms with the ‘ladies first’ thing, in so far as they‘ll do the same in hell. But, ladies in their peculiar way would find a way to play second fiddle when the time comes.
“Well, see ya in school; I’ll wait for another bike,” I said.
“Okay, thanks Chima, you’re always a darling,” she said perkily.
“Any time gal, I hope that doesn’t mean that I play the fool often?” I scowled.
“No! Hey, can’t you take a simple compliment?” she shouted as the bike drove towards school.
It wasn’t two minutes after that another bike showed up.
“How much is it to the school gate?” I asked.
“Just forty naira,” the bike man replied.
“No, I‘ll pay thirty. Are you new around here?” I inquired.
I guess I shouldn’t have asked the price since I knew the statuesque but time had taught me otherwise. It was always better to negotiate than assume things, only to quarrel later.
“Okay, enter; I hope you have thirty naira because I've got no change," the bike man said.
“Aah, when did that become the customer’s job?” I inquired. “I pay you and also provide the change?”
“No, I just came out that’s why I’m asking,” the bike man explained.
“Well, when we get to school we’ll see about my balance. But this is your business and you ought to have the tools of your trade,” I snapped.
“Yes sir!" he mockingly replied. "I don’t blame you. Thanks all the same for teaching me my so called job,” he sneered.
His rebuke had its effect; in an instant I was contrite. I shouldn’t have snapped at him the way I did. I wasn’t in the habit of being rude to bike men, although, some of them can be a nuisance. But this one seemed nice and cultured and still he got grinded by what I can’t yet identify was biting me. “I’m sorry, bro. I just need to get to lecture on time.”
“You don’t have to apologize, blame the government for reducing me to this state. I think a bike man should take what you said to me, I still find it hard to ignore the chip your educational system strapped on my shoulders.”
“Wao, what’s that supposed to mean? That’s quite a statement,” I said.
“Forget it, it’s nothing. I still find it hard being a bike man after spending years in the university in the hope that it would guarantee a better job.”
“What? You mean you are a graduate?” I shouted, not believing him.
I couldn’t mask my surprise, as I found it hard to swallow. I didn’t want to believe it but on a second thought I could just as well believe it. For one, his long speech a while ago said something, and his visible anger at the system excised any further doubts I had.
“Are you surprised?” he laughed, “Well, don’t be. I’m not the only one. We are many out there. You can even say that I’m lucky since I had the mind to save some money during my service year.”
“But you should have looked for jobs?” I half stated and half queried.
“Which job? And where do you start? My young man I don’t want to take your time discussing my problems but after my national youth service I spent two years at home looking for a job. I had good grades but I lacked the connections. Maybe you can add that I wasn’t among the lucky few that had nobody and still got jobs.”
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