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Memoirs of a Bolt Guy: Another Day To Fear Women

24/1/2023

By Victor Kwame Sampong

I shouldn't have gone out on Monday night, because it did not make sense to me that midway through January we were still battling with fuel issues in Port Harcourt.

However, this time, almost all the filling stations were selling, but had different prices on offer.

I was almost out of fuel as my fuel gauge had shown. The last thick black line before going into the danger zones on the gauge... that's where it was when I checked in the morning. So the plan was to use it at night. While rounding up, head to my usual filling station, Nepal, to queue up by midnight, fill the tank up by morning and return home.

So, I waited till night, after football training, I had a bath, dinner, rested a bit, before hitting the road by 9pm.

My first ride took me to Iwofe. As I was about to end the trip, another one came in from Aker Road. I called the number and the man on the other end asked me to come to the NNS Pathfinder Junction. When I got there, he wasn't anywhere around. I called again and this time, he asked me to take the route leading to the oil firm, Saipem.

I immediately declined and told him point blank that I don't ply such routes at night. He pleaded some more and told me he's one of the soldiers stationed there, but there's an emergency he needed to take care of. We discussed terms offline which he agreed to. Well, money is a great source of motivation, I guess. Besides, there's a Navy base just around the corner, so what then could possibly go wrong? Na wetin gimme mind to march down. {That's what gave me the boldness to go that way}

I got to the Saipem gate and this time, he was already waiting for me.

He said we're headed to Choba, the University of Port Harcourt, precisely. He explained that he had been calling his girlfriend but she wasn't responding. He was worried and wanted to go and check if all was well. I asked him if she had someone living with her. He replied in the affirmative, but she too didn't pick up, which was quite unusual.

So, that's how we set course for Choba. He told me her lodge was along that Maryland Hostel Road. I explained to him that the road is bad (rough) and is a no-go area for cab guys like me. He promised to make an upward review of our already agreed sum. Who am I to say no to a soldier man at night?!

We got to the girl's lodge, knocked and her roomie came out, with shock stamped all over her face upon seeing my client. Oga asked about his girl and the room mate was stunned. She kept muttering what we couldn't make any meaning of. Na so Army man just shoved her aside and went in, only to find an empty room, kitchen and bathroom...hehehehe! His girl friend was not in the room.

He closed the door and brought out his 'koboko', threatening to flog the room mate if she doesn't reveal the whereabouts of his woman! Me sef don begin fear. I would have gone outside, but who I be to open door wey Army man don use him own hands lock?! Who I be na? {I can't open a door that was closed by a soldier}

Well, the girl begin cry sha,.knelt down and told us the babe had gone to Casablanca (a red light district) in the Government Reserved Area, GRA to 'hustle'. Her phone was low so she left it behind to charge.

My guy man's face changed upon hearing the news. His resolve was broken. With the little patience left in him, he asked that we leave immediately before he does something dangerous. Na so I rush open door as the order was given. We went back into the car and the silence was deafening thereafter. I was afraid to ask him where next.

He looked up and said,"Boy, let's go to Casablanca".

At that point, I regretted coming out that night. I for just dey house play PS (PlayStation with Obi my neighbor).

Well, who am I to refuse the orders of a depressed soldier man?!

We got to Casablanca, but didn't know where to start the search from. I told him I'll just park and watch over my car, while he can patrol around to look for his (lost) lover. So, I parked just by the Casablanca Junction, observing the array of pretty ladies on parade and taking in the beautiful scenery that they bring. Girls of different shapes and sizes, young and old, displaying their wares for interested clients. Some were lucky to get picked up, others strolled up and down in order to get noticed. A few others just enjoyed the music from the clubs around the vicinity, shaking some of their assets in enticing manner.

One of the pretty girls caught my eye though. She wasn't dressed in a skimpy attire, but her beauty was radiating. She was in a white palazzo trousers and pink crop top, very young too.

One black Lexus jeep parked across and a young man walked up to where she was standing with her friends/colleagues and asked them to follow him. He got back into the front seat, passengers side and both occupants of the car engaged the girls in a conversation. Of course, I couldn't hear them, but I knew what they were up to.

Two of the girls were dismissed while my 'favourite girl' got into the back seat. She was laughing while talking with them. The inner light was on briefly while I observed proceedings from my vantage point. All of a sudden, my soldier client appeared from nowhere. No joy on his face. He didn't find the girl despite combing everywhere.

He brought out his phone to show me the babe that's putting him through all this, also explaining how he's paying her school fees, accommodation and general upkeep because he plans to make her his wife right after school. I asked him why he didn't do it before now, he said she's seventeen years old and still a virgin, so he was keen on waiting till she reached adulthood, getting a degree before marriage. How can a seventeen year old 'Virgin' be a part time Ashawo? ({Prostitute} I felt sorry for the soldier who thought he was waiting for his girl before marriage, but the whole Port Harcourt was having a taste of her. It couldn't have been for money too, because he just said he took care of her needs from school fees to books and general upkeep.

I took a second look at the pictures this time and noticed the same clothes I saw on my 'favourite girl' moments ago. I zoomed in and I knew my eyes weren't playing tricks on me. Even he queried me why. I told him the girl he's looking for might be inside the black Lexus (pointing at it) across the road. Me and my big mouth, but I could not help it.

Almost immediately, my 'favourite girl' alighted from the car (my guess was negotiations broke down or she was going to bid farewell to her friends/colleagues and to inform them of their destination) and walking towards her previous spot when my guy charged at her. The girl was so shocked she could neither run nor shout. Like, she saw a ghost. I ran after him and restrained him, while speaking some wise words into his ears as I leaned on him. I must commend him too for the courage shown by not acting based on his impulse at the time.

We got back into the car and he requested we head to a suya joint. I was baffled as I couldn't fathom out the correlation between a suya joint and a heartbreak. But then again, who I be to refuse an officer of the Federal Republic of Nigeria?

So, I drove faraway to a Rumuomasi Suya Joint where we sat down, consumed suya worth about five thousand naira and washed it down with some Hollandia Yoghurt.

I took him back to his base, got rewarded handsomely for my services and we said our goodbyes. I guess his military trainings prepared him for shit storms like this, because, how he took this to the chin beats me.

I smiled and got sad a bit as I tried to replay every moment in my head. I didn't need to work again, but drove straight to Nepal at about 2am to join the queue as the 13th car. Maybe when I wake, I'll call my new found friend to see how's doing. Perhaps, another trip to the Suya joint again, with bills on me. No?

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Memoirs of a Bolt Guy: Black days, good money and some dark business

17/1/2023

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By Victor Kwame Sampong

The fuel scarcity in Port Harcourt continued unabated into the new year, as petrol stations hiked their prices to as high as N500 per litre.

Our fellow citizens sold this premium product on the black market for between N700-800 per litre, and it was difficult to do business, though some of us still managed to keep our heads above water anyway.

I knew I couldn't risk paying such astronomical sums to fuel my car. I go just sick if I try am. {I'll fall ill if I try it} Instead, I chose to go to stations that sell at the official pump rate or slightly above it, since I don't do well with queues.

So, I go to these select stations from about 2am and stay there till around 10am when they'll open for business. Once they open, in a few minutes, I'll fill up my tank, go home and sleep, then resume at night. So, all through this dark period in Port Harcourt, I chose to work only at night, so as to conserve the fuel for more days.

I was not even the only one using this format. By the time I get there by 2am, I'll still meet a couple of cars there. Then in an hour's time, the line would start taking shape. By dawn, the place would be buzzing. When it's morning proper, it's a frenzy out there.

We usually form little groups here and there, holding small discussions about a wide range of issues till some of us wear out and retire into our cars to take a short nap. By the time you wake up, the setting would have completely changed with cars everywhere.

As a result of the fuel situation, I tend to also select the kind of rides I accept. Anyone that doesn't suit me financially gets cancelled or ignored.

On Sunday night, I had just finished dropping off a nice young man at Agip Estate when another order came in. It seemed close so I accepted it. When I called, the girl was on Douglas Road (the Chinda link road that leads to Rumuolumeni).

I tried to go pick her up, but the direct link road from Road 24 to Chinda Road was locked because it was almost midnight. When I called to tell her I have to cancel, she begged me not to because she won't get another ride. She had been rejected 4 times already. I wouldn't budge, not until she told me she even knew me because my number was saved on her phone. But what moved me was when she promised to double whatever cost is displayed on the app. Sweet deal.

I manoeuvred my way to get to where she said she would be, but she wasn't there. I called again and she was still inside her compound, trying to get out. She said her landlord didn't take her calls (as he must either be sleeping or just plainly ignored them) and her only option was to jump over the fence and my help would be needed to effect her escape from the house.

She pleaded further that it was an 'emergency pass' that just came and it was so lucrative otherwise, she wouldn't go through this in other to meet up. Another Two thousand naira was promised on top of the already agreed sum if I play my part to help her outside.

I positioned the back side of my car at the fence where she was, climbed on the boot, then onto the fence, reached out for her hands and pulled her onto it as well. We both climbed down to the boot and entered the vehicle. Yeah, quite risky, but hey...the end justifies the means.

Oh well, I recognized her so well the moment she got into the car. About three months back, I had picked up some people who arrived in Port Harcourt very late at night from Lagos. Their bus stopped at Nkpolu-Rumuigbo Junction, just around midnight. She begged to join the ride separately, so I can drop her off after finishing the ride with the original person who booked. That's how we exchanged contacts and kept in touch for a few weeks before falling off.

We picked up her friend and colleague in the business at Royal Highness Road just close by and made our way to Old GRA...The Crib.

The app displayed Three Thousand Naira, which she promised to double, making it Six Thousand Naira, plus the escape fee of Two Thousand Naira for a total sum of Eight Thousand Naira. She paid me Nine Thousand Naira cash upon getting there.

From their conversations during the ride, the person they were billed to see seemed to be a top priority level client and it was a threesome they were going for. Also, they both might have formed some kind of tag team on such missions, because they recounted some of their previous rodeos and things they needed to do to improve on their performances and client satisfaction.

That would make for another week's episode entirely.

After payment, we bade each other farewell and I wished them good luck and a fruitful mission. After all, like House of Rep Member and aspirant would always say on his campaign posters: You Win, I Win.

And in this case: They Win, I Win!

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Memoirs of a Bolt Guy: Another Day, another Story

10/1/2023

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By Victor Kwame Sampong

I didn't plan to go out on Saturday. At least, not until evening, but a very important client woke me up from sleep saying it was urgent I got to his house right away.

I quickly dashed to the bathroom, had a quick bath and got dressed, then left for his place. In no time, he came out with one of his boys and his young pretty niece living with him. As I sighted them, I knew instantly that something was up.

Uduak narrated the reason why I was summoned that early in the morning. His niece had gone out the previous day to work, but failed to return home. She came back home the following day with the excuse that there was too much to do at work and her phone was down, hence the reason why she couldn't inform him of her inability to return, as it was already too late to do so.

The niece was a nurse, and Uduak didn't buy her story, so he decided to take her to her place of work for verification.

According to her, she was at the house of a patient that needed extra care. They had called me to drive them to the house of this patient.

Based on her directions, we drove to the house. But fortunately for her, the building was empty as it seem the occupants had all gone out for their daily businesses. My client was disappointed and asked that we return home. We dropped the girl back at home, while we headed for his office. It was on the road he asked for my opinion.

“What do you think of this whole thing,” He asked me.
“Do you really think she was at work or she went somewhere else?”

I told him point blank sey the girl go knack, but she didn't know how to tell him. Her story did not add up. She was a thick chic, with curves at the right places, that would make any man's head turn. {I told him point blank that she went to have sex}

His boy behind added salt to injury by saying the boyfriend might be going to the village and so needed one last dance for the road.

Uduak don begin para with the postulations from us. He asked me to turn back make him go buy cane to flog the girl. {He immediately got angry and wanted us to turn back so he can buy some whips to flog the girl}

I refused and advised him against taking such action, but to call the girl and talk to her like his sibling, make her trust him because beating her might end up strengthening her resolve, and that would be counter productive.

We got to his office, I got paid and bade him farewell!

THINGS WE DO FOR FUEL

As the year wound to a close, the fuel scarcity hit us harder. Filling stations were capitalizing on the situation to milk everyone with prices soaring as high as N350 per litre within Port Harcourt. The NNPC outlets that tried to sell at lower rates had queues as long as the Mississippi.

I already had a full tank from the one I managed to buy at N280 per litre from one of the NNPC points around Mercyland Junction at East West Road. But by night fall, it was going down faster than the Naira and I needed to refill. But I couldn't stand the queues, plus I could not bring myself to buy at N300 or more per litre.

In one of our groups, a driver dropped a hint; he just saw a fuel tanker driving into Matrix Fuel Station, just by the Rupuokwu Market Square Junction. But upon enquiries, they said they would sell from the next day. As a result, he's going to queue up there from midnight till when they open by 8am. Fuel there goes for N210 per litre. Sounds like a nice plan, considering the difference in prices elsewhere.

Many of us in the group signed up. By midnight, people started dropping updates of their presence there. I was monitoring the group for updates, while still working that night. The surge on January 1st was the highest I'd witnessed thus far. It went as high as 2.4, which made it difficult for me to stop work.

It was around 3am I decided to draw the curtains on work that day, from about 6pm that I hit the road. I went back home to get a few items I might need to make my stay outside more comfortable. A loaf of bread with butter, plate of pepper soup, and asked a colleague to get me Coca cola and bottled water on his way there. By the time I got there at about 3:30am, I was the 23rd person on the queue.

The line kept increasing gradually as we kept watch by having small discussions here and there. I went into my car at 5am to rest a bit, only to wake up at 7:45am to a very crowded place. Worse of it, two cars had driven in front of me, due to the space created as a result of the cars moving forward a bit to get closer to the gate. See fuck up na.

Anyway, the station started dispensing fuel at after 9am. When it got to my turn, that's when I heard that they sell just 30 litres to cars. But if you want more or to fill up your tank, a fee of N500 must be paid for the extra services. Very ridiculous. But others were complying. Ghanaman won't be the odd one out; not after spending the cold night in my car outside. I paid, got filled up and went back home to sleep for the rest of the day, waiting for the surge to return at night for me to cash out!

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Memoirs of a Bolt Guy: Night of so many beauties

2/1/2023

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By Victor Kwame Sampong

The December period was very productive for me, but entering its final week seemed to be an exception as surge periods were no longer constant features for most parts of the day.

Then came the issue of fuel scarcity as well. Drivers struggled to get petrol to operate; and when we did, the prices were usually too high. It kept increasing daily, from N210 per litre to as high as N320 currently.

After struggling to get fuel at such an astronomical price, frustration sets in when the prices on the Bolt app doesn't usually reflect the rides done. So, most drivers were seen on different platforms hustling for offline jobs, so as to meet up.

I was still in bed on Tuesday morning when a colleague called me about a job to Owerri and back. He was given the job, but due to a late change in date from the client, he could no longer make it, but graciously passed it on to me. I wasn't surprised though. James was the one I linked up with an airport pick up two weeks earlier that paid him handsomely. I guess he was trying to return the favour.

We discussed terms and he immediately sent the client's number to me. I reached out to her to get her pick up point for the trip. I got there and (un)surprisingly waited for close to two hours before she and her girls (three) stepped out. They had an assignment in Owerri to make up a bride and her bridal train on Tuesday (Bridal Shower) and Wednesday (wedding).

The journey to Owerri was smooth and we arrived safely and on time too. They quickly got into gear, tending to the beauty needs of their own clients. I just sat there, admiring the ten pretty ladies around me. Trust me, they were pretty and came in different shapes and sizes. I was the only male in the midst of almost twenty females. They did their hair, after which we moved to a hotel for their facials.

Madam Faith and her girls really made those girls very pretty. They took pictures and all the razzmatazz associated with all that. I was there each step of the way, playing, laughing, teasing, taunting and generally, having a good time with all of them. We finished late in the night and headed to the hotel reserved for us by the bride. Na here wahala been wan start. {This was where the problem would have started}

Madam Faith said the person who linked me up with her usually sleeps in the car when he takes her for jobs outside Port Harcourt. I told her I won't reduce myself to that level. As for me, it's either the client gets a suitable accommodation for me himself, or pays for it or we sleep together wherever he or she sleeps. I told her point blank that we're all sharing the hotel room...four ladies and me. I no send anybody. {It was none of my business} After much argument, she agreed.

I told her I'll give her and the girls one hour to go in freshen up and dress up,.then I'll come in and do same. They ladies went up and did as expected, while I remained in the hotel bar to drink a few bottles. It was around 2:30am or thereabouts that I walked upstairs to the room. I knocked and one of the girls opened it. I made my way to the bathroom, took my bath and got dressed in my night wear, took out my wrapper to spread on the floor, used some clothes as pillow and crashed shortly after. The ladies were surprised at my sheer audacity to spend the night with them in the same room, but they could do nothing to prevent it too.

We finished up the next day and returned to Port Harcourt later in the evening.

The second part of the week turned out to be sour for me; no thanks to my mechanic.

My front shocks were on their last legs and I had wanted to change them for a while now, so, I hit Joe up to carry out the works the next day as soon as I returned from Owerri.

Instead of Joe to change the shocks like I paid for, he went to Ikoku to try to fix them. Believing they were okay, he fixed them back for me. I picked up my car and hadn't even gone out of the gate, before I noticed the same irritating noise. It was already late, so I told him I'll return it to him first thing the next morning.

The next day, I insisted we both go to Ikoku together. We got there and luckily, the person who did the work is someone I've known for a long time. It was Azunda that revealed the elaborate plan Joe brought to him, despite his professional advise that the shocks might be truly bad, so he should 'pieces' it to check the true nature of the fault before 'working' it. Joe refused and forced his hand to do the hachet job.

I had to pay extra to get the new ones I had already paid for, gave them to Joe to go fix it, while I stay back for a few minutes to get a few bottles from Azunda...the ones he promised me when his wife gave birth a year earlier.

I went back to Joe's shop to pick up my car and noticed it was on. I asked why the car was on and he said he was just steaming it. I didn't think it through; something I would later come to regret that night.

The car was moving perfectly now and i resumed work that night. It was around 10pm Joe called me that the battery in the car wasn't mine. He gave mine out to another guy and wanted me to charge the person's own while driving around. I was so furious and screamed at him to retrieve my battery before I drop my client at Ogbogoro.

The client urged me to go get my battery immediately. Something I bought for Forty Thousand Naira barely two weeks earlier. Immediately I dropped him off, I made my way to Market Junction on Ikwerre Road and made sure I waited for Joe to bring back my battery. I made it clear to him, that it was the last time he'll set hands on my car for any reason. What audacity!

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Memoirs of a Bolt Guy: Another Day To Fear Women

Memoirs of a Bolt Guy: Black days, good money and some dark business

Memoirs of a Bolt Guy: Another Day, another Story

Memoirs of a Bolt Guy: Night of so many beauties

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