DIARY OF AN OKADA RIDER

JAJI AND THE RASTAFARIAN.
16th of Oct' 2013...
         When a large drop of rain landed on Jaji's cheek he turned to look at the sky. Dark clouds had formed with the promise of rain. The air was changing;it was beginning to be quite windy now. Angry hisses of lightening and thunderbolts almost deafened him. He marched on the accelerator. The nearest place to take cover was the filling station which was about a minute away. He saw that a lot of other Okada riders had taken shelter under the massive corrugated roof sheets of the filling station. As he rode in hurriedly,one of the riders quickly moved his Okada to accommodate his and Jaji thanked him. He'd barely positioned it on the ground when the sky opened angrily. Huge torrents of rain gushed out. Jaji quickly donned his raincoat and flung the hood over his head. He wondered that the rain was still falling in October! He hated rainy season. Bad for business,he always did think.
       Just then Jaji saw a man with dreadlocks sway jauntily in the rain,heading towards the exact spot he was standing. He watched the slow but precise sway of his body movement as he drew closer. The whips of furious rain didn't seem to affect him. He appeared to be enjoying it even. Jaji quickly averted his gaze ,he didn't want him to.......
 'Twas too late! The dreadlocks man had come to stand right in front of him. Their eyes locked. In that fleeting moment Jaji recognised the pungent smell of stale tobacco and beer on an unwashed skin.  He would never forget this smell because this was exactly how Bafus smelled when he went to spend a few days with him on one of those days his troublesome landlady wouldn't let him breathe! Bafus was a neighbour and a good friend. A good,untidy friend.
 "Whata gwan?" Jaji felt a light touch on his shoulder. He didn't know much about "Rasta" language but he knew that "Whata gwan" meant "What's up." Still he pretended not to understand. "Wetin be dat?" he asked instead.
" I just ask you how you dey naa!" the dreadlocks man answered,looking somewhat disappointed and angry. Jaji inwardly thought to himself,"so you know the normal language and you dey ask me yeye Whata gwan??!" but outwardly he smiled.
"Yeah Man,i Rasta man! Jah send me nat to destroy buh to save ina de Jah piplo" He spoke again,this time he squinted his eyes and looked to the sky. He turned to Jaji again and then shifted his eyes to the other Okada riders chatting away.
" Woman bad! Woman dem bad. Me fit kill any woman. Dem bad!" His voice rang,a high pitch in the rain. Jaji held his breathe for the smell that greeted his nose was acrid. Rastafarian continued,"Me wan tell you a story," he shook the wild mane of locked hair and began to say something -sorry -sing something.. Jaji recognized the croaked version of Majek's fashek's "Send down the rain" song. He sang on,eyes never leaving the dark sky. He stopped abruptly and started to laugh,a maniacal sound that seemed to draw the attention of the other Okada riders. One of them nudged at his mate and whispered something about "Kolomental...."
 The rastafarian stared at Jaji for several long minutes and said shortly,"My story."
 There was no harm in listening he decided. Good way to pass the time anyway. But... the foul smell that oozed from him,how could he handle that?
 Rastafarian narrated his story : He met Mary three months ago. "Jah bless me with fine woman." he smiled broadly,revealing marijuana stained teeth,"Mary sexy,Mary fine. Mary rock man good,make man fiel airy.. Mary blessed!" He exclaimed fiercely and went on. According to him he met Mary in the local primary school in his neighbourhood where he usually went to sell "weed" after school hours. Mary was a seller too and was a very smart "Chikaila". She was very friendly but could hit a man in "the belly" if he annoyed her. "That's my Mary giel.. my sweet Chikaila!" he smiled that rotten smile again. The other riders,Jaji saw were very interested in the rastafarian's story. Everyone was listening now.
 The first time Mary came visiting,they smoked endless wraps of "weed" and she "sexed" him. They started to date afterwards. She would always come to his house,smoke with him and get high and give him "Plenty kinky loving." The second month She said she was pregnant. He was very excited he was going to be a father! They arranged she would move in with him. He began to increase the number of wraps he sold daily. He was going to have a family soon and so needed all the money he could get. One day he returned home unexpectedly and found his 'Chikaila' with Samuel -one of his big time customers. He felt a murderous rage and pounced on him. He beat him because he was "touching touching my chikaila" and beat him even more because his chikaila was responding!
   Jaji hid his amusement. He saw the pained look on the rastafarian's face and didn't want to aggravate it. "Touching Touching my chikaila" really did amuse him.. he nodded his head prodding him to continue. He did.
 After he beat the living daylight out of Samuel and knocked a tooth out,he pushed him to the street and returned to his "giel" who was crying on the bed. She promised never to do so again and re-affimed her "kinky love" for him.
 "And she be still get belle for you?" Jaji interrupted him,a little confused. The rastafarian threw his head back and laughed. "Yeah man." he replied. One of the Okada riders chipped in," and you still continue with her?"
 " Love lives in strange places!" he answered without so much as batting an eyelid. Jaji thought that was a very brilliant answer.
  The rastafarian went on to narrate how he forgave her and their kinky love rekindled. Then one fateful day he got home to meet his room cleared of all his belongings -Amattress,two bob-marley inscribed Tshirts,nylon bag full of weed, Army green boots,and a mini transistor radio. A note was left for him on the floor. It read : "Gon wit sam. Do not lok for me, Sam is my baby fathar "
 At this point the rastafarian's voice wobbled. He looked up the sky and bellowed,"Jah! Jah rastafarai!!!" He turned back to Jaji and said quietly,"Woman bad." Then he suddenly turned on his heels and walked into the now drizzling rain,and out the filling station.
 Everyone was speechless for a while before they burst into bouts of laughter. One called him,"Kolo-ganja!" Another said, " Side crawcraw! ".......whatever that meant.
 Jaji took off the raincoat,started his Okada, the words of the rastafarian still reverberating in his head..Woman bad woman bad woman bad...
 The sky was a clear grey now. The rain had completely stopped. The next passenger that stopped him had a ready smile. As he climbed in,Jaji's eyes flew to the thick,brown dreadlocks on his head. Oh dear! It was a day of rastafarians!