The Boy on The Bus:

Ojodu Berger by Bashorun Ahmed.

I saw someone on the bus today. Or rather, I noticed him. We were both in a danfo heading towards Berger, filled with strangers and the restlessness of going to work on a Monday morning, but somehow he stood out.

He sat by the window, glasses on, earphones in, calm, lost to the world. Or maybe he was just trying to block it out like the rest of us. The first thing I noticed was his beard. He had that kind of beard that wasn’t quite full — just enough with a small moustache sitting neatly above his lip.

There was nothing overly dramatic about him. He wore a plain dark tee and looked like all these tech bros. However, he looked calm. He looked like someone who didn't need to try too hard. Maybe it was the way he looked uninterested in the noise or the quiet confidence in how he sat. It was intriguing.

When the bus got to Berger, we both got down. He moved quickly, walking ahead. I followed — not on purpose at first, but I guess the universe had jokes. We both joined the endless stream of humans walking the pedestrian bridge, trying to get to the other side. Me trailing behind him like Joe Goldberg in the series YOU.

We didn't talk. I might have wanted to but what would I have said? “Hi, you looked so peaceful inside the danfo. What’s your surname so I can add it to mine?” Definitely not.

We got down the bridge and he turned to enter another bus going to Agege. I stopped because my own route was different. I had to find my way to work, pretend to be a serious adult, and move on from that moment. But I stood there for a second longer than necessary, watching him take his seat inside the bus.

There was no dramatic music, no eye contact, no romantic twist where he looked back and our eyes locked. Just me, in my work clothes, interested in a stranger from a danfo.

I turned and went to look for a keke to take to work, carrying nothing with me but the memory of a peaceful stranger from a danfo bus.