Lagos Thrills
Lagos Thrills
A drug hawker joins our bus, and, you know their drill, he begins advertising this highly efficacious deworming drug, or so he would have us believe. He went at it so convincingly that even one without worms may have considered purchasing a dozen. He left nothing unsaid to sway his hearers. He claimed the testimony of this wonder product had blazed through the island like wildfire. Then just at that moment, a woman at the last row behind exclaims (in pidgin), "Is this not Kewiz (the real name of the drug not used)? Wow! I heard amazing news about the medicine, but I didn't care until I started defecating worms myself last week. Then quickly, I went and bought the medicine and took it for three days, and my system cleared fffiam!" (You'd think her bowels became transparent.) She then turned to the man, "Please give me two, I need to buy for my brothers." Next, eight passengers speedily procured their own blisters of the drug. You'd wonder whether they were redeeming property that originally belonged to them.
Of course, I strongly doubted the woman's story. “What a setup!” I screamed in silence. But I only left a tract with her.
Two days later, while plying a different route on a different bus, another hawker hops on to our bus to advertise the same Kewiz product. Lo! This woman, who gave her testimony two days ago, is right here with us again. And you guessed right, she gives the same enthusiastic story and buys two for her brothers. The bus was still loading and the seat next to her was free. I move to sit beside her, and hand her the same tract. For old times sake. Her knees begin to quiver and I could see her face melting with fear. I wanted to enjoy this moment, and even deliberated which means to maximize it. Either I torment her in silence, or blow the whistle. But the whip of my conscience made its lash on the back of my heart, quickly reminding me of why I was here. I didn't mention a thing about the "setup,” but I encouraged her to take her time to read the tract. She fixed her eyes on it and would seem to be ripping the piece of paper with her gaze. I only kept encouraging her on with the reading, and then, I did what I could to persuade her to the gospel before my stop.
A drug hawker joins our bus, and, you know their drill, he begins advertising this highly efficacious deworming drug, or so he would have us believe. He went at it so convincingly that even one without worms may have considered purchasing a dozen. He left nothing unsaid to sway his hearers. He claimed the testimony of this wonder product had blazed through the island like wildfire. Then just at that moment, a woman at the last row behind exclaims (in pidgin), "Is this not Kewiz (the real name of the drug not used)? Wow! I heard amazing news about the medicine, but I didn't care until I started defecating worms myself last week. Then quickly, I went and bought the medicine and took it for three days, and my system cleared fffiam!" (You'd think her bowels became transparent.) She then turned to the man, "Please give me two, I need to buy for my brothers." Next, eight passengers speedily procured their own blisters of the drug. You'd wonder whether they were redeeming property that originally belonged to them.
Of course, I strongly doubted the woman's story. “What a setup!” I screamed in silence. But I only left a tract with her.
Two days later, while plying a different route on a different bus, another hawker hops on to our bus to advertise the same Kewiz product. Lo! This woman, who gave her testimony two days ago, is right here with us again. And you guessed right, she gives the same enthusiastic story and buys two for her brothers. The bus was still loading and the seat next to her was free. I move to sit beside her, and hand her the same tract. For old times sake. Her knees begin to quiver and I could see her face melting with fear. I wanted to enjoy this moment, and even deliberated which means to maximize it. Either I torment her in silence, or blow the whistle. But the whip of my conscience made its lash on the back of my heart, quickly reminding me of why I was here. I didn't mention a thing about the "setup,” but I encouraged her to take her time to read the tract. She fixed her eyes on it and would seem to be ripping the piece of paper with her gaze. I only kept encouraging her on with the reading, and then, I did what I could to persuade her to the gospel before my stop.
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