LETTER FROM COTE D’IVOIRE 

By Gabe Onwu

There are days and memories you would like to keep forever....

      

 “ Ya place, Champion, Grand Pere, ya place, dedans, Montez, Montez,200cfs, Montez Avec la Monnaie” Apprenti (a learner or Bus conductor ), as he and his colleagues are popularly called, had his right leg thrown outside and his right hand stretched  like a puppet from Europe.He beckoned to some passengers who were stranded outside the popular Market of Adjame in the city of Abidjan. The chauffeur was busy trying to squeeze the last puff from a cigarette stick when a thug approached him for ‘Cadeau’ or tip for picking passengers at his territory. Obviously, the driver had to comply immediately to avoid the wrath of other thugs whose ranks and inconspicuous presence constitute a menace to the society. On a positive note, these Bus Stop thugs seemed to have legalised their status. Before now, they were pick pockets, muggers and bandits who were in the habit of denying passengers of their valuables. First came the storm that sent confused shoppers in all directions. Soon the sky opened and it began to pour like it had never done before. Was God angry? The sound of a thunderstorm could be likened to dynamites and explosives used by ‘our friends ‘who had in recent times spread their infamous crusade to destabilise some countries. Women with babies strapped to their backs battled very hard to keep their umbrellas in positions, but the storm overpowered them. Young ladies had their own troubles trying to keep their latest hairdos from flying off their greasy heads. Others struggled to hold some pieces of clothes that seemed to rhyme with the latest design or fashion in vogue at least according to their own judgement but disobeyed and exposed some sensitive parts of their body. A particular lady in her late twenties was on the ground for two minutes. Her shoes probably got tired of her huge weight and decided to go on strike. Three touts went to her rescue and took advantage of her situation to touch her and utter some romantic phrases ”Ma Cherie, désolé”, Tu as blessure? Poor lady! Had she any option?

Koffi and I went after a flying rickety Gbaka that had the inscription” DEIU MERCI”.A novice in French, that I would gladly admit  or I would admit my incompetence in the French language, but it became obvious that something was not right  with the inscription and so I protested silently and mumbled to myself ’DIEU or DEIU’?

Another one with the inscription ’Avec Dieu,, toute est possible’. ‘With God all is possible’. Yes, even our death. We hopped in. Come to think of it, a moment like this no one dared question if the moving corpse would make it to its destination. The killer engine that defiles all road signs and traffic lights. The Chauffeur shared his bit of madness when he almost crushed a student boy whose schoolbag was too heavy for him to carry. My excitement was cut short when I had to occupy a seat next to a lad who from all indications had probably not visited a bathroom for the past fifteen days. If he did, someone must have baptized him with a mixture of rotten eggs and some used water from the abattoir.I reached out for  a handkerchief beautifully designed by my ex-girlfriend to provide a temporary relief for my nose. When he noticed how uncomfortable I was, he asked”Ya quoi dedans, Quelle est ton problem?”I lied pointing at my head to indicate ‘a headache’ and quickly added ’Ma tete’. I chuckled and uttered few words in English. ‘Who is this celebrated sonofabitch with a certificate in bacteria emission Yes,?’.

“Moi.Je Suis pas speak l’anglais”. Aha! I got him and somehow challenged his incompetence as well. His red eyes and unfriendly face almost scared the hell out of me, but the presence of Koffi arrested the little fear in me almost immediately. Koffi’s Kungfu and boxing skills had won him fame in our neighbourhood, turned him to a cocky young man and a braggart.No one undermined his presence in the quartier (quarters).We got home and I had a quick bath at least to remove some stubborn virus that might have disrespected my body during the trip. I made for the kitchen and began to feed directly  from the pot that sat lazily on the cooker. Did I say my prayers before meals? The stubborn hunger in me was responsible for that laxity. All the same, I uttered some few words after the meals like a good Catholic to thank the Man upstairs. I had had a long day, therefore, my bedroom was the next destination. I forgot to switch off my radio. Of course, I had to replace the made in China batteries to keep me abreast with the latest gossips from the BBC World Service.

At daybreak, I had my bath and breakfast in haste. It was a special day and there was no way the events of that day could elude me so cheaply. I joined a train of irate football fans and supporters of Les Elephants and set out for the National Stadium some Kilometres away from where we lived. The excitement reverberated throughout all the Regions and districts. Streets wore new looks adorned with Orange, White and Green their National Colours. Along the route, we stopped to take some snapshots that would later remain our souvenirs of the Century. That month of April was significant in the lives of Ivoirians and indeed Africans who love the round leather game.

 The Stadium was not enough to accommodate hundreds of thousands of spectators and fans. Somehow my friend and I made our way into the Stadium. We met many Ivoirians who slept in the stadium just to catch the glimpse of the Newly crowned heroes or ‘ Roi de Afrique’ After five hours of waiting, the trophy finally arrived in a Motorcade. The golden trophy was jealously held out to the jubilant spectators by the President and the Captain of the National Team surrounded by Security Aides. On seeing the trophy, we all went agog. A juicy lady who stood very close to me jumped and hugged me from behind. She and I never knew each other from Adam. I was glad to get those hugs after so many years of observing canonical distance from such essentials. Before you blame me, we were in the celebration mood, so chapter closed....

To be continued.