Hi dear,
If you’re like me that forgets when I loan someone money or help them pay for something on the spot with the promise to pay back later, I have a tip for you.
Beside the person’s name in your contact list, add the amount they owe. It’ll be something like “Thelma 200.” Whenever they call or text you, you’ll be reminded of the debt and inquire about it.
My friend, Dayo taught me this tip many years ago and it came in handy this week. Thank you Dayo and you’re welcome dear.
On Doormat
Thelma and I got into a bus at Maryland to drop us at Ojota bus stop one evening after work. The seats quickly filled up and we began our trip. Behind us was a guy, let’s call him A. He sat quietly behind us in his packet shirt and trousers. When the conductor got to him and stretched forth his hand, A gave him 500 naira. Our trip was 100 that means A would collect change from the conductor.
Few minutes later, “Conductor, please my change.” A called out. The conductor acted deaf. The Conductor kept a straight face like he was just another bus passenger. A kept quiet. The bus kept moving. Yet again, we heard from behind, “conductor, please my change”. Same silent response met the guy.
As we got closer to Ojota bus stop, A raised his voice and began speaking to the Conductor in Yoruba. I was shocked at the sudden switch. I couldn’t make out what he was saying but it didn’t sound good. Thelma and I looked at each other, held ourselves and smiled. We wanted to laugh but we couldn’t for fear that we might attract trouble to ourselves. We watched intently for next steps. The conductor brought out change and gave the man. He was trying to tell A that he was about to give him change, that there’s no need to shout. A collected his change and came down from the bus with us.
If you don’t change it for people in Lagos or Nigeria, they will walk all over you. You have to be willing to change it for them. Once they smell that you are the cool and calm type, they’ll turn you into a doormat. Always be prepared to open your eye and raise your voice so they’ll know that you carry the same madness like they do just that your own, like A, is tucked in packet shirt and trousers.
And once you change it for them, they’ll behave and begin to plead and call you aunty. Unfortunately, I’m not their aunty. Their aunty is at home or in the village.
Thelma and I remembered this incident after our mover wanted to turn us into doormat this week and of course, we changed it for him.
Above is the conversation that birthed this letter. I listened to it as I wrote too. Hope you enjoy and laugh with us.
With big love,
Chidinma
