This post is one in a Series. A list of all of the posts in this Series can be accessed here.
I am at Falomo roundabout.
I had to get myself out of Victoria Island as quickly as possible, after becoming aware of the dense military presence there.
I am descending the bridge.
A guy with a machete is walking towards me. I feel relatively calm. The guys with machetes are generally friendly. Their enemy is law enforcement. And I’m not law enforcement. In fact, my very rough-looking hair is pretty convincing evidence that we’re on the same team.
The #EndSars protests exist in the first place, because law enforcement officers have been extremely cruel to guys with unexplained wealth and deviant hairstyles. Guys like me. Although I definitely have work to do on the unexplained wealth part.
Their enemy is law enforcement, and so the guys with machetes causing a ruckus in the streets, are relatively friendly.
Okay there was one guy who was not particularly friendly. But that was just one, in like the five hundred I’ve come across in the past few days.
He walked up to me with an astoundingly ludicrous allegation:
Hey you. You are one of the people funding the SARS. You are one of the people giving them money for operations. Oya open your bag, let me see what is inside.
I was very stunned. I was still thinking about how to respond when a little chaos erupted a few meters down the road.
Ah ah ah!! Something don dey happen for there- make we go catch that guy!!!
He turned around and began to sprint in the direction of the commotion.
I think he was high.
I am at Falomo roundabout.
The machete guy asks me a number of questions. Where I’m going. What I’m going to do, etc.
I mouth the usual stuff: Motorbike, sprockets, etc.
He asks for some ID. I hand him my National Identity Number (NIN) slip. He stares dubiously at it.
This is not valid. I need something else.
He corresponds with an older man standing nearby, who nods in acknowledgement.
This is not valid.
I feel some anger beginning to boil inside me.
What do you mean it is not valid?
Do you have any idea how long it took me to get this thing? I had to lie down outside the registration office at like 1am in a sleeping bag! In the cold! The officials attended to just like 20 people that day- I was fortunate to be one of them!
What do you mean it is not valid?
Eventually they let me go.
Commot your cap, commot your cap. Oya waka normal, waka normal.
He’s telling me to take off my beanie and walk normally. I’m not quite sure what “walk normally” means. How was I walking before?
I keep moving.
I am close to Obalende.
There are gunshots.
Ah! Wait wait, what is this I’m hearing? Ah! Yeh! These gunshots are so intense!
The guns ahead are firing at a more ferocious frequency than anything I have encountered in my journey so far.
I’m fretting. I’m fretting seriously.
Ah! What is this? What do I do now?
There is a guy walking towards me. I ask him for information on what’s happening up ahead.
Ah! You better don’t go there!! They will shoot you instantly!! Look at your hair!! You look exactly like the sort of people they plan to kill!!
My trepidation is upgraded to a new level.
Ahhhhhh!!!! I’m finished!!!! I’m done for, Yehhhh!!! What do I do now???
My chest is in turmoil. I keep inching forward.
The gunshots are getting louder.
Another guy is walking by.
Ahhh you better don’t go there, they will shoot you!! Look at how you’re dressed!!!
At this point I think I’ve run out of additional trepidation. Annoyance is what I’m experiencing now.
Please excuse me, leave me alone!! Do you know how many roadblocks I’ve gone past successfully?? Please don’t give me any rubbish this afternoon you this guy!!! Don’t annoy me at all!! I’m going somewhere!!
I keep moving.
There are a number of people sitting under a tree nearby. I join them, and begin to ask some questions in a bid to procure some understanding of the situation.
Hm, there are no dead bodies here. And I do not see anyone in this group with gunshot wounds. That means so far, none of those bullets have gotten to this place. Hm okay, I think I feel relatively safe with these people right now.
The soldiers are visible up ahead, firing their guns riotously into the air. I keep watching.
A guy walks by. He walks with an interesting bounce, and is dripping with swag. I think his shoes look really cool.
Unlike me, he does not stop to talk with the people seated under the tree. He just dusts off his pants, shakes his head vigorously, and heads straight for the soldiers.
I am completely astonished.
Ah! What kind of guy is this one?? Can he not hear these very demoralizing gunshots?? Ahhh!!!
He gets smaller and smaller as he bounces towards the soldiers on the horizon.
I don’t understand what is happening. I don’t understand at all.
The guy with the swag and cool shoes is no longer visible. It’s difficult to see what’s going on. Everyone at the roadblock up ahead looks so tiny.
I keep watching.
At some point, a much older man seated under the tree calls out to me. He has probably noticed the concentrated concern on my face.
There is no problem, you just go. They are not really shooting anybody. People have been going past the roadblock successfully, there is no issue.
I think I take a deep breath. His words infuse me with some calming confidence.
I begin to prepare myself.
Image: The bridge linking Victoria Island to Ikoyi via Falomo. On a day when there were actually civilian vehicles on the road.
This post is one in a Series. A list of all of the posts in this Series can be accessed here.
Mayowa Osibodu's Blog. 
I like the fonts,I like the way you write,it’s just like I’m reading a novel.
Glad you got out safe♥️🫂
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