Carry me de go🎶🎼🎶
Baba carry me de go, de go, de go🎼🎼
The bus moved slowly, creaking and rattling like it might fall apart at any second. Lagos is known for these yellow-painted buses — they look okay from the outside, even cheerful. But inside?
A whole different story.
The seat was nothing more than a rough wooden plank placed over rusted metal frames, with the sharp edges poking dangerously. As the bus bounced over the pothole-ridden roads of Lagos, my little fleshy butt bones begged for mercy. But honestly, that wasn't my biggest concern right now.
I was caught between excitement and uncertainty, sitting on a journey that marked the beginning of a new life.
"Daddy... am I scared of change?" I asked suddenly, almost surprised at my own voice.
"What kind of question is that?" he replied, sounding like he'd been expecting it all along.
(Do I love my dad? Yes. Do we argue more than we agree and sometimes keep malice like co-wives? Double yes. But deep down, I know he understands me more than I even understand myself.)
He was always protective — sometimes too protective. And if I'm being honest, that overprotection is part of what's made me so solitary.
But I want to change that.
I want to be famous. To achieve that, I need to be open, friendly... everybody's friend.
And besides, I'm seventeen for God's sake! I deserve a little trust, a little freedom. I mean, maybe I don't look grown, but I feel it.
I just want to be like my mates.
"Why would you be scared of change?" he asked again, pulling me back to reality.
"If you're scared of change, that means you're satisfied with your current level. You don't want growth."
He leaned in and whispered teasingly, "Fear fear."
"Oh Daddy, I'm not scared o! E ma na nkucha aburo ujo!" (An Igbo adage meaning being alert isn't fear)
I said in a mix of defiance and pride.
He giggled, then looked at me with amusement.
"What's the nkucha for? That's the only Igbo proverb you know, abi?"
"Mhmm," I smiled. "No, I know more o!" I added, giggling as I rested my head on his shoulder.
I didn't even realize when I dozed off. All I could hear was the conductor's cracked, unmelodic voice shouting:
"Shey LASU gati wa?"
"Owa o!" my dad replied, then gave me a gentle tap.
"Ndi akwukwo, wake up," he said, tapping me again lightly.
"Oya..." he stood and began making his way out of the bus.
"This is how you'll sleep in class too. Na egosi onwegi. I'm going down, but feel free to continue your sleep."
Sigh.
I don't know why my parents see every small rest I take as proof that I'm unserious.
On our way to my new lodge, my dad paused to dust off his trousers and then bent down to check my knees.
Oh yes — I forgot to mention: I'm light chocolate brown — if that's even a color — with brown eyes that some of my family members say make me look sick or high. Slender, about 5'7", with soft, fluffy black hair that's usually braided in straight-back cornrows.
Yes, I'm beautiful.
And no — I don't let it get to my head... okay, maybe sometimes I do.
"Is your knee paining you?" he asked, brushing my hair gently.
"No, Dad."
"Okay," he nodded, dragging my box along as we walked. His face shifted — now wearing that classic Nigerian father expression: part advice, part investigation.
"You have to respect yourself," he said.
"E cho, í le onwegi kobo kobo."
"Haba, Dad. Why would I do that?" I asked quickly.
He gave me a look.
"Children who do... they say the same thing," he replied. "But I know you're better than that."
He paused again. "You have to open your eyes and be wise — like your father. And be as vigilant as your mother."
Then he chuckled. "Well... your mother is trying in her vigilante work sha."
"Ahh! I'll tell Mum for you!" I laughed, holding his hand as we walked side by side.
I knew I was going to miss them — especially my dad.
But I also knew this place held more than just a fresh start.
There was something waiting for me here — something different.
Something mine.
Slangs & Meanings
-Nkucha aburo ujo – Igbo proverb meaning "Being alert isn't fear"
-Akuko – (Igbo) Story; can also mean gossip, exaggeration, or disbelief
-Ndi akuko – Igbo for "storyteller" or "gossiper"
-Owa – Yoruba for "available" or "I'm getting down -(from the bus)
-"Na egosi onwegi – Igbo for "you're showing yourself" or misbehaving
-E Cho, é le onwe gi kobo kobo – Igbo for "If you like, sell yourself cheap / lose your self-worth"
YOU ARE READING
yellow lode
Teen FictionTeen love, peer pressure, murder and the consequences of freedom.
