Survivors On Wheels: The Gritty, Grimy And Grumblesome Reality Of The Nigerian Commuters

It is sad how us Nigerians have to always privately fund basic amenities by building boreholes in almost all our homes for water, have generators, inverters or solar as NEPA no gree give us light, and rush to live in some of our uncompleted houses as landlord don turn village people and there are no low-cost houses available. After surviving the night with the hum of the neighbor’s “I-pass-my-neighbor” generator, we have to use public transport to work and pretend we do not have short fuses when those arrogant taxi drivers broke-shame us for innocently advising them to stop looking for passengers as we will be late for work. Nigeria will test you, e go beat you turn turn, then Nigerians will insist you do not react—but I thought actions had consequences na?

The journey to earn a living in Nigeria is often a battle of wills, especially when you encounter taxi drivers who behave like they are the ones paying your salary. Some of these drivers are truly among the meanest people alive; they will never compromise on price no matter what and they go broke-shame women especially for bargaining, being a big girl or Hajiya wey no gree take “drop” and prefers to enter “along.” You’ll see a person driving a saloon car that’s a bit wide taking two passengers on the front seat and four passengers in the back, then my brothers with Picanto, Toyota Yaris, or Peugeot 206 wey them suppose to carry for head will still be shouting, “Madam na 4 for back o, abeg shift!” inside private motor again. You’re left wondering, “I thought this isn’t your only means of income?” but the driver is already zooming off before you can even find a place for your left buttock.

If the taxi drivers are the “generals,” the Danfo conductors are the “special forces” of chaos. Imagine being in a yellow bus, hanging on for dear life, and the conductor—whose shirt has seen better decades—is hanging out the door, screaming “Yaba-Oyingbo!” into your ear. You give him 1000 naira because that’s all you have, and he looks at you like you just insulted his ancestors. He will proceed to “marry” you to a total stranger, shouting, “Oya, you and that brother wey wear tie, hold 500 naira together!” Now you, a corporate worker, are standing at the bus stop for twenty minutes after work, chasing a man in a suit you don’t know, just to get your 200 naira change. The conductor will even tell you “No change o!” after he has already collected your money, as if it’s your job to provide him with smaller denominations.

To fix this madness, we cannot keep living like we are in a survival reality show. The government must prioritize high-capacity mass transit systems—real buses, not these “moving sardine cans”—and functional rail lines that actually connect residential areas to business hubs. There needs to be a strict regulation on the number of passengers allowed in small vehicles; a Picanto should never be “4 at the back” unless we are filming a comedy skit. Furthermore, digital payment systems for public transport would end the “hold your change” wars once and for all. If we can pay for shawarma with a transfer, we should be able to pay a Danfo conductor without him “marrying” us to a stranger. Until we treat transportation as a basic right rather than a tool for civilian punishment, the Nigerian worker will continue to arrive at the office looking like they just came back from the frontlines of a war.
My people, since we are navigating the Nigerian transport “war zone,” we need more than just a prayer; we need a tactical plan. Think of these as your Standard Operating Procedures (SOPs) for the daily commute.
1. The “Change” Reconnaissance
Never, under any circumstances, board a Danfo or a “4-at-the-back” car without Reconnaissance. Check your pockets for “broken” money (small denominations). If you enter a bus with N1000, you have essentially handed over your destiny to a conductor who will “marry” you to a stranger whose destination is 5 kilometers past yours. Unless you want to start a new life with a random person because of N200 change, carry N100 notes like they are ammunition.

2. The Strategic “Lap-Over” Maneuver
If you find yourself in one of those Picantos where they are shouting “4 at the back,” do not sit in the middle. Aim for the “Door Flank.” If you are in the middle, you will be compressed like a PDF file. By sitting near the door, you have a “tactical exit” and at least one side of your body isn’t being used as a human sponge for a stranger’s sweat.

3. Maintain “Radio Silence”
When a driver starts the broke-shaming or the “Hajiya, why you no take drop?” talk, maintain Radio Silence. Do not engage. These drivers are masters of psychological warfare; they want you to talk so they can tell you how your salary can’t even buy their spare tire. Just wear your headphones, even if nothing is playing, and look out the window like you’re the lead character in a melancholic music video.

4. The “White Shirt” Defensive Guard
If you are wearing white or light colors, you are in a high-risk zone. Before you sit down, perform a Visual Inspection of the seat. Many of these seats have “industrial” stains that have been there since the car was imported in 2005. Carry a small handkerchief or a “Nylon of Hope” to spread on the seat. It looks “local,” but it’s better than arriving at work with a map of Nigeria printed on your trousers.

5. Time-Buffer Logistics
Since we know the driver will stop to pick up a passenger who is still tying their shoelaces three streets away, you must build a 45-minute buffer into your movement. If the driver says, “We are moving now-now,” assume he means “We will move when the Holy Spirit moves me.” Use that time to catch up on podcasts or plan your world takeover.

6. The “Respectful” Aggression
When the conductor tries to play “Hide and Seek” with your change, don’t wait until you reach your stop to shout. Start the “friendly reminders” two bus stops early. A firm, “Oga conductor, my 200 naira dey your hand o, I go drop for next bus stop,” lets him know you haven’t forgotten, and you are ready for a tactical engagement if necessary.

Artice by Halima Imam