Their were some roads in Nigeria that people preferred not to travel at night. The road through the northern states was one of them. During the day, it was busy with buses and trailers moving between towns. But after sunset, it was a whole different world and everything changed. The road became quiet and all you could hear were the crickets and night insects sounds, the villages disappeared into darkness, and the bandits that lurked and did operations sometimes were enough to make even experienced drivers think twice.
Kuta knew the road better than most, he had been driving interstate buses for almost fifteen years. He knew where the potholes were(which were never repaired), he knew which petrol stations were still open after midnight and sold black market deals even after they had "officialy closed "which villages had reliable phone networks and, most importantly, which stretches of road passengers should not ask him to stop on.
His bus usually left around 7 p.m, some passengers complained about the timing and Kuta understood why, but a night journey was cheaper than flying, and most of the people sitting behind him could never afford a plane ticket. There were students travelling home, traders carrying bags of goods, young men returning from work and mothers travelling with children. For some of them, this bus wasn't simply transportation. It was the only option and that was part of the motivation as to why Kuta kept driving.
One particular night, the bus was unusually full to the brim. The passengers had heard the dangerous stories of the dangers of driving close to the December period too. Everyone knew about the attacks happening along different highways. Some had relatives who had been kidnapped. Others had seen videos on social media but people still had to travel, it was a necessity. As they approached a particularly isolated stretch of road, Kuta reduced his speed.
A passenger in the front seat noticed and said.
"Driver, why are you slowing down?"
Kuta kept his eyes on the road.
"Nothing. Just bad road."
He knew it wasn't the road.
Earlier that week, he had seen abandoned vehicles along this same route. Once, he had passed a roadside scene that he still thought about whenever he drove at night. He never discussed it with passengers. There were some things people didn't need to hear while sitting inside a bus hundreds of kilometres from home and as such he continued driving. Then suddenly, headlights appeared behind them and Kuta checked the mirror, a vehicle was following them.
The passengers began to notice too. Nobody said anything outwardly but their minds were racing. The vehicle moved closer and Kuta's hands tightened around the steering wheel. Then it overtook them and disappeared into the darkness. A collective breath seemed to leave the bus. Someone laughed nervously but Kuta didn't. A few minutes later, the same vehicle appeared again. This time it stopped ahead. Kuta immediately knew something was wrong. Several figures stepped onto the road, the bus slowed. For a moment, nobody moved. Kuta looked at the road ahead, then at the narrow shoulder beside him. He remembered something an older driver had once told him "When you drive this road, don't just watch what's in front of you. Watch for the way out. "He suddenly turned the steering wheel.
The bus left the main road and bounced violently onto the rough shoulder and the passengers screamed.
Someone shouted, "Kuta!"
He didn't answer.
He kept driving.
Branches struck the side of the bus as he pushed forward, looking for a way back onto the road. Behind them, the figures disappeared into the darkness for the second time. The bus eventually found the highway again. One thing about Kuta was that e never stopped . Then a woman from the back finally asked, quietly, "Are we safe?"
Kuta looked at her through the mirror.
"For now."
That was all he could say.
They continued through the night.
By the time they reached the next major town, it was almost morning. The passengers climbed out quietly, exhausted but relieved. One of the men approached Kuta before leaving.
"Why do you still drive this route?"
Kuta looked at the nearly empty bus.
He thought about the money he needed to send home and the cost of living. He thought about his children, school fees and the endless bills that never seemed to stop, at the end of the day he thought to himself "Someone had to drive the road". Kuta smiled tiredly. The sun was beginning to rise and he had another journey that evening. Another group of passengers would board his bus and somewhere along that road, there would probably be another dangerous place, another moment when he would have to make a decision that could affect everyone behind him. But at the end of the day someone's got to do it.
Image was generated using Gemini