Chapter 1: Queue Wahala and Broken Rules

Na Workers’ Day break, I carry my pikin Zainab go Amusement Park—queue full like JAMB centre. We almost reach our turn when the person wey dey front suddenly wave towards the rest area and shout, “Everybody, come over!”

Sweat dey my forehead already, but that one nor surprise me reach as I see the way the man dey wave hand anyhow, like conductor for Oshodi dey call passenger—‘Everybody, come down here!’ He shout loud, like say he dey summon him pikin from football field, and the whole place just get one kain buzz.

Before I fit even react, na so one big crowd—at least forty or fifty people—just waka comot from the shade come join the person for front of us.

E shock me. You for see the way all of them rush, carry cooler, snacks, nylon bag, even one small boy dey drag chin-chin for hand. The line scatter as the crowd just enter, no send anybody. Dust rise for air, small children dey dodge cooler wey almost fall for ground. You go hear nylon bag dey rustle, chin-chin dey fall for ground.

I just dey look am with shock. I quickly talk to the guy, “Oga, na all these people you dey keep space for? Abeg, make you let us pass first.”

My voice dey shake but I try sound strong, hold small dignity. My throat dry, but I no wan fall hand for my pikin front. Some mamas for the queue dey look me, nod head, but nobody talk. Dem dey give me that look—like say, ‘We dey your back, but we no wan enter wahala.’

The man glare at me and bark, “No dey cut line.”

Him eye red like pepper, as if na me thief him salary. He dey talk with full chest, no even look my face well. Na wah oh!

I weak. How I take become the person wey dey cut line now? Na so Naija dey—who shout pass dey win argument.

Na so dem dey twist matter for Naija, turn person to scapegoat. My mind dey boil but I no wan make scene for pikin front.

Today na special day—my daughter dey on break and she just score 100 for her midterm test. I don promise her say I go carry am come ride roller coaster. I remember as I dey check her homework last night, she dey beam like person wey chop meat inside beans.

I even carry zobo and gala for my bag, in case we go need energy. This one na her reward, so I nor fit slack.

The sun dey shine like say e wan roast person, and we don dey queue since. Now, suddenly, plenty people just appear for front of us. How I go gree? My shirt don soak, back dey burn—e be like say I dey inside oven.

Sweat dey roll for my back. Naija sun no dey smile. If not for the promise wey I give Zainab, I for don waka comot since. People just dey cheat anyhow.

I worry, so I ask the staff, “If all these people enter, we go still fit ride the roller coaster?”

The staff na small boy, him face fresh, NYSC tag still dey shine for neck—new corper life. He dey scratch head, look me, look the crowd, like person wey no sabi maths.

The staff count them, come ask the man, “Oga, how many people you get exactly?”

E clear say the matter don pass him power. He dey sweat under him green cap, biro dey shake for hand.

The man quick reply, “Fifty. E just reach.”

He talk am sharp, like say he dey try win bet9ja. I fit hear people for back dey grumble, but na so everybody keep quiet after.

I just sigh. The staff come talk, “The roller coaster fit carry only ten people per time. After five rounds, the ride go close.”

As staff talk, my hope dey fade small-small. Zainab dey squeeze my hand. The heat plus wahala dey tire person.

Na so the staff carry sign wey dem write ‘Temporarily Closed’ come dey try put am for our front.

He do am with small fear, dey look the man face before every move, like person wey dey borrow courage.

I grab the sign, raise my voice, “Then na we suppose go first! Why you go dey hold place for fifty people?”

Na so my body charge. My voice loud reach as if I dey for Obalende bus stop. Some people start dey gather, watch us.

Anybody wey don go amusement park for Nigeria know say dem get morning and evening session, and the daytime get time limit. Once time reach, plenty rides go close. For holiday like this, sometimes you go abandon other attractions just to queue for the one wey you like pass.

E dey like NYSC camp kitchen—if you miss your time, no food for you till next meal. Everybody dey calculate time, no wan dull.

Before, my daughter talk say she wan ride both the giant swing and the roller coaster. She leave the swing because of this roller coaster.

She be sharp pikin, sabi what she want. E pain me say she for don enjoy two rides, now e fit be zero.

Now, if we change to swing, e go don late.

Giant swing sef, the line long reach that one too. E go dey almost close. Na only God know wetin we go meet if we waka reach there.

She no dey always score 100, and I don promise her this treat. If people dey cut line, na so we go waste this special day?

Her eyes dey shine before, now e dey dull. She bite her lip, dey try blink tears, but I see am.

I dey feel like say I don fall hand as papa—pain dey my chest like stone.

The man for front don dey vex. He point finger at me, “Talk true, I no dey this line?”

Him chest dey go up and down, like agbero wey dey find fight. The way he raise voice, people for back dey look here.

I answer, “If you dey hold place for fifty people, you suppose tell those wey dey your back. If I know say fifty people dey front, I for no queue here.”

I talk am as e dey do me, voice dey quiver. One mama for my back say, "Ehn-ehn! Na true o!"

He push me, grab the staff sign, come plant am for our front.

The push nor too hard, but the disrespect pain me. Zainab just grip my hand tighter, her small palm dey sweat inside my own.

Zainab, my daughter, just look down. She ask me with small, sad voice, “Daddy, we no go fit ride?”

Her eyes don red, mouth dey twist like say she wan cry but dey hold am. For my mind, I dey beg God make she no break down for crowd.

As I see her face like that, my chest just dey burn me.

I feel am for inside my bone. Wetin person go do to make im pikin happy for this country?

She don endure sun for ninety minutes, no complain, just for this roller coaster. How I go let her down?

I remember as she dey answer all her homework for kitchen table, the way she dey smile anytime I check am. I no fit disappoint am today.

I talk to the staff, my voice strong, “Oga, this thing no fair at all. We dey under sun dey queue, but all of them just relax for shade dey chop puff-puff and drink malt.”

People for shade dey look our side, some dey hide laugh, some dey shift face. I dey talk with vex, voice dey high.

The staff see say I wan argue, just wave hand, “Abeg, make una settle am among una self.”

He no even try solve am. E just throw face, dey press phone like person wey dey check bet slip.

I shock.

Even the people wey dey behind me before just look away, dey act like sey dem no get mouth for matter. E weak me.

Na so business people dey do—any small wahala, dem go push am give customer instead of to stand well.

For Naija, if you no shout for yourself, nobody go fight your battle. I don learn.

I hold the sign well, talk, “Anyhow, today I must ride. This thing no fair.”

I no gree, chest dey out. Some people dey nod, but no body wan join wahala.

As the staff see say I no gree, he come tell the man, “Oga, two people for your group no go fit ride. After five rounds, ride go close.”

The boy voice dey shake, but he talk am anyhow. The place just quiet small.

The man panic. “No try am! I don collect their money—if dem no ride, how I go refund?”

The man dey sweat, voice dey high. He dey look him people, dey form boss, but fear dey inside him eye.

Na there I understand: na tour guide he be, dey hold space for all him people.

E make sense now. Na him dey coordinate all the matching t-shirts, dey shout like camp commandant. Money dey involved.

He block me, grit teeth, “See, I dey your front. No matter how many people I get, I dey front. No come disturb me.”

He position himself like wall, chest out. E be like say na National Assembly he dey defend.

I wan answer, but Zainab talk first, her voice clear and serious.

Small but bold. The whole place just quiet as she open mouth.

“Uncle, this thing no correct. Our teacher talk say for queue, one person na one space. If you get fifty people, all of una suppose line up.”

She talk like proper Lagos babe wey sabi her right. Even some small pikin wey dey there clap hand quietly. Some mamas dey smile, one papa snap finger, dey encourage her.

Zainab talk sense, but the tour guide just vex, “Why you dey put mouth for adult matter? You no get respect!”

He shake hand, voice sharp, like say e wan use fear press her. But Zainab stand strong.

Zainab face red with anger, “Why you talk say I no get respect? Na person wey cut line no get manners!”

Her voice get ginger, and the thing catch some people attention. One old woman talk, "Talk am, my dear!"

The tour guide face twist, he waka come, point at Zainab, threaten, “You this small girl, if you talk again, I go slap you!”

The way he raise hand, crowd just freeze—everybody dey wait make wahala burst.

I sharply carry Zainab hide behind me, shout, “Oga, wetin be this? You wan beat person?”

My voice loud, I no care who dey look. E no go happen for my front.

He hiss, “Who dey fear fight?”

He waka like tout, chest dey up. Some of his people dey hail am, dey push am make e continue.

As he see say he get plenty people, he shout to his group, “Somebody here wan cut line and fight! Men, stand with me! Make single women go first, then couples, then single men squeeze enter.”

E dey arrange crowd like conductor arrange people for bus. The men just come stand, muscle out, dey form wall.

As he talk am, all the men for his group just come block road, dey look me anyhow.

Dem dey size me, one of them dey chew gum, another one dey flex arm like say e dey gym. I smell sweat and cheap perfume—tension full ground.

The tour guide dey smile, “Oya, continue to dey do strong head. No be you dey cut line?”

He dey use street sense, dey turn everybody against me. Some of his people dey laugh, others just dey look me with bad eye.

Two men for the group, wey don tire, just push me for chest, try push me back.

One small push but e get meaning. Na intimidation be this.

I vex.

My body dey hot. This one pass ordinary queue matter. Na disrespect plus oppression.

Na him dey cut line, but now na me be the wahala?

The world turn upside down. I dey wonder how person go twist story reach this level.

I follow rule, so why I come be the ‘uncivilized’ one?

For Naija, na who shout pass dey win sometimes. But today, I no go let bad example spoil my pikin mind.

I look back, hope say people for back go support me, but I shock: as staff put the sign, everybody for my back just waka go another ride.

Dem no even look my side. Na so everybody dey mind their own. One mama drag pikin run go bouncy castle side. For Naija, nobody wan carry another person wahala for head.

I breathe in, try calm down. My daughter dey with me, I no fit fight.

I dey recall my papa own talk: "If you use muscle solve every wahala, you go tire quick." I gats use sense.

I wan show her say if wahala come, you go try solve am with sense.

I nor wan teach Zainab say na only fight dey bring result. Make she sabi say brain get power too.

I hold Zainab hand, we waka comot. She ask, voice low, “Daddy, we no go ride roller coaster?”

Her hand dey tremble small. She try hide tears, but I see am. My heart cut small.

I tell her gently, “My dear, Daddy promise say if you get 100, we go come play. I go keep my promise. No worry, today you go ride.”

I use soft voice, rub her back. Some of the staff for corner dey peep us, like say dem dey pity us.