The Parable of the Cab Man

by Eromose Ileso

It was a hot afternoon on 26 March, 2019. The sun enveloped the horizon like the burning furnace of a bakery oven; I had just walked out of the Benson Idahosa University Campus at Ugbor, as part of my itinerary in that part of town. At the gate, while I waited for a cab, several taxis drove from the adjoining streets from where they had picked up passengers from various destinations to the BIU campus gate which is the last bus stop for most commercial vehicles that ply that route. As I stood by the gate, a cab man spotting a white singlet and a blue jean, had just arrived from one of his trips, parked his taxi at a vantage position, few metres from the gate, and a little over three minutes later, he started having a heated exchange with a fellow cab man. He was shouting on top of his voice, and using expletives on the other man. He told the other guy, “is it because you see me dey drive taxi”. Me and you no dey the same level” you dey craze” “many of my school mates from university na lecturer for this university.” He went on and on. The other guy, just kept repeating one sentence, “na mental stress dey wori you”.

For some reason, not known to me, he fastened his eyes on me with a forlorn gaze, while he continued his foul mouthed exchange with this other cab man. Another cab man, sought to intervene to calm down both parties, when he told the other guy, “rest na for the mata, you no know am”. So as he bellowed Ring road, I approached him to know his last stop, it was the Oba’s Palace, but he promised he would dropped me by the street where Bob Izua lives. Before we left, while other passengers had joined the ride, he continued his exchange of words with his fellow cab man. As he drove through the Government Reservation Area, he told me his story. First, he asserted that, these drivers in the park, because, they see you driving taxi with them, they tend to classify you as just another ‘bloody taxi driver’ without being oblivious of your story. Of course everybody has a story to tell. He who tells is the person that is heard.

It turned out, he is a graduate of English Education, who was initially into teaching of secondary school students, but opted to be a cab man, when he could not make ends meet with his teaching job. He talked with gusto about one of his teachers who taught him while he was in secondary school; he mentioned the man’s name and the style of composition he taught him. The popular formula of “Introduction, Body and Conclusion.” He said this had stuck to him since he left school. The reason, he brought up his teacher’s name during our conversation, was that he used it as a nexus. He saw his teacher in a pitiful state that suggested a likelihood of insanity, because of the ragtag state he was in. He felt pained, that such an intelligent man that imparted his life so much, was in such a state, but that was not enough reason for him not to respect the man, especially taking into consideration, the knowledge the man still possess, despite his current state of mental health. It is this he says riled him, with the other cab man, as the guy had continually shown a tendency to disrespect him. I kept on saying to him, that I understood him, and that I knew the position from which he spoke. As it was clear that his annoyance stemmed from the Nigeria situation.

As he drove through Ihama road, he talked about how he could have turned to illegal activities to get money, but he decided to toll the path of honest living and not manifest evil works. He spoke glowingly and passionately about the number of students he had taught while he was a teacher. He mentioned one of his students, a girl that hired the cab driver he had an exchange with. He alluded to the way the girl in question had venerated him, because he was once her teacher, while the other cab man was almost on his knees to earn the girl’s patronage.

As he left Airport road to link up with Upper Ezoti Street by the back of the Oba’s Palace, he pointed to the house of the principal of the secondary school he attended to me, and mentioned his name, but that the man was now late, having died several years ago. I asked him whether he grew up around the Oba’s Palace area? It turned out; he is an ‘Ogbe guy’ as those that grew up around that area are typically referred to.

While, he was dropping me off at my stop, a young teenage girl walking with a little boy passed by his car, and greeted him, ‘good afternoon Sir”, he said to me, that was one of the students I taught.” As I was alighting from the cab, I thought of what to say to him, because I would never know why he was so open about his personal life that day, combined with the fact that he had gazed at me several times, while he rained insults on the other cab man. He was still parked by the road, and not in any hurry to leave as most cab man usually does, ostensibly waiting for me to say something. When I finally came down from his cab, as I stood by the door, I shook his hand and said to him: “More grace, it is only a matter of time.” The manner he held my right hand with his two hands and thanked me, dawned on me that those words meant a lot to him. Like he needed a measure of reassurance that within the Nigeria sphere, where nothing is easy for the common man, he could still attain his dreams.

The question then is, what did this encounter portray?

It showed the lamentable state of Nigeria, where there are now more graduates driving taxis to irk out a living than at any time in the country’s economic history. In most cases, if not all, the decision by these classes of persons to be a private cab man wasn’t down to choice, but purely based on circumstances. All over the place, there are several brilliant and sound Nigerian graduates of various disciplines who for lack of jobs have resorted to driving cabs own by them, by the way.

Four days earlier, I was in another cab, being driven by a graduate. I knew he was one, because while the passengers discussed about the just concluded elections, especially the plight of corpers who had not been paid for the job they did as well as those that lost their lives. He stated that, when he served in Anambra state in 2013, he opted against working as an ad hoc staff for INEC despite being amongst those chosen and trained for the task, because according to him, he wanted to save his life, and return to his family in one piece.

All over the country, there are several Nigeria University and Polytechnic graduates who are now full time or part-time cab drivers, some for lack of available jobs, others, after losing their jobs, had decided to use it as a means to make ends meet.  

In the past, it was popular for most Nigerians, to claim that, “the job wey Nigerians no go gree do for 9ja, na dem dey go do for Oyinbo land like the ones wey dey drive taxi’  That adage used to be a popular line by some who had sought to argue that Nigerians should stay back home to do jobs that ordinarily belies their status as graduates. Now in Nigeria, there are now Bachelor and Master Degree holders driving taxis. So the aforementioned adage has been taken over by events.

Just like that cab man at Ugbor, who asked when his situation would change from being a cab man, there are also several underemployed Nigerians in the same situation who are asking the same question daily.

Interestingly, I ran into the cab man in question again on 6 April, 2019 in his signature white singlet and blue jean. For reasons best known to him, he called me a pastor. And he said it multiple times. I boarded his cab to Ring Road again. As it turned out, he wasn’t in a reflective mood this time, but rather he was vivacious this time around, narrating his experiences with several of his passengers and the gist he had scooped from them over time some of which were unpleasant to the ears.

Using this cab man as a case study in relation to my second meeting with him, it showed another side of the average Nigerian, that despite the difficulties that many face daily, especially those that are either unemployed or underemployed, within the quest for survival, there is always room for light moments and the occasional humorous episodes that provide momentary laughter. That was the mood this cab man was in when I met him for the second time in two weeks.

The Nigerian spirit of putting up a brave face is seldom cast down, it is always willing, but the will could be sucked dry by the Nigerian situation that is lacking every bit the adequate support system for people struggling to lead a semblance of a near comfortable life.