Memoirs of a Lagos City Hustler #LCH 13

After waiting patiently on a very long queue to use the ATM, just about three more guys till my turn and I tapped my pocket to see if my wallet was still there and DAMN!!! I just might have lost my wallet. I started trotting like gnomes in a yard, emptying my already empty pocket. It was like everyone has had that experience before, the people around me were like "your wallet shey?....it happens". I had that pseudo near-death experience; my ATM cards, my ID card, passport photographs of all my Exes (seriously! people carry that around? This guy's weird), important contact numbers, and a little tangible cash etc what was I supposed to do? I had just enough money to get me back home as loose change in my pocket but I had to do something.

It occurred to me that the last time I felt my wallet was the 'keke napep' I boarded to the bank, I hurriedly ran to the park and after scoping like a hundred tricycles, I couldn't find the driver; I waited about 1 hour hoping that he might drive down again. It was just a slim chance the wallet fell into the tricycle and even a slimmer chance he'd give it up.

I did go to their union office to tell them about my situation and the first thing the pot bellied man asked was; "is there cash in it?" and I replied no. He said the driver might return it if he found it first hoping that the passengers he might carry next did not find it first, now all I could do was hope and pray. I used the money with me to go to my girlfriend's house because her house was closer to the park hoping to check back in the evening. I was so sad and could barely hear anything she said.

She went from one gist to another, chatting away but all that clouded my thoughts were the many forms I'd fill to get a new ATM,sworn affidavits,police reports and the many eventualities should I not find my wallet. And just out of the blues, someone called me to come and get my wallet. Wait.....In Lagos? Like seriously? I couldn't just believe my eyes(and ears) and next you know it, I jumped up to retrieve my tshirt on the hanger and dashed out of the house. My dame was saying something, but it was totally lost on me.

I got to the park and found the pot bellied man smiling about the feat. He said he got my number from my business card and I quickly retrieved my wallet with joy, thanked him and left. I know right?...there are still few good people in Lagos.

Even though I did not find the cash in it (liar! I thought you said there was no cash? hian), I cared less because I was too happy I got my wallet back. Okay so I went back to her house and gave my dame all the attention she was seeking, this time feeling like a man(with a wallet)!!!