I fought for N10 change

I’m always making jokes about men in suit who get into fights with conductors for their twenty naira change and I never for once thought I would one day make the list.
The only difference between me and them is, I was not wearing a suit when mine happened and I fought for something lesser, ten naira change.

It was a very sunny afternoon when I flagged a keke from Alaka Estate at Surulere heading towards Ojuelegba. They were two men seated at the back seat and I made the third passenger.
Usually, the fare for this distance is N50 but the keke man said N80 and because I saw a troop of men & women walking out from the estate, I didn’t want them to contend my space with me so I got in without arguments.
Towards Tejuosho, the keke man said, “I hope say you hold change oh.”
I kept mute. I had only a N200 and N1000 note in my bag but I thought N200 was a reasonable denomination. Even if it were not, he should have mentioned it before I got into his keke.

The other passengers alighted along the way. When we got to Ojuelegba, I handed the man the N200 and rather than give me my change, he hissed and started driving towards Surulere as though he was oblivious to my presence in the back-seat. I asked if his head was correct and he parked immediately. Then he hissed again, threw a N100 and a N10 at me in the back-seat and got out of the keke.

Oga, wey my ten naira change?

He eyes turned red as if he washed them with Yoruba stew. He said I dey craze, that he made himself clear before I got inside his keke.

Wait! What is ten naira? I know how many times I have written off amount way higher than that to taxi/keke/okada drivers and sellers generally but I can’t stand when people are rude ontop my own money. I’m usually the first to wave my hand and walk away if I see the driver or conductor making efforts to spilt my money into smaller denominations or if he has a look of empathy on his face but not when I was dealing with a mad man.

That missing ten naira suddenly felt like N1,000,000. To add insult to injury, he brought out two ten naira notes and said he dared me to collect it from him, that yes, he was going to ‘eat’ my money because he bought his fuel from black market.

He walked towards an Iya Basira at the road side and sat down. He was probably a regular of the iya basira cos she served him egusi and eba without questions. All along, I was staring at him with hands on akimbo as he swallowed a ball of eba, one after the other, amazed at how one can be this stupid.
Anger had suddenly overwhelmed me. I felt like I was going to run mad if I didn’t give him a piece of mind. I walked up to him and said, “Since N10 is your problem, N10 will always be your problem till you are 80. Amen!”
I got him there. Yay!
He stood up immediately holding a ball of eba already dunked in soup and started abusing my existence in the typical agbero style.
Me, I was just shouting, “Back to sender! Back to sender!! Back to sender!!!”

I turned around and noticed some passersby were staring at us. Reality suddenly hit me. There I was, fighting for N10 in ojulegba of all places. If it were the bus stop of Banana Island, I wouldn’t be bothered. But Ojulegba? Ojulegba?
Tomorrow fame might meet me from my new novel and the only photos the internet would have of me are the ones taken by passersby on the day I fought at Ojulegba.
Devil be gone!
I composed myself and walked away.