As you read this short story, it is
important to imagine MJ’s song Speed
Demon playing in the background
during the race scenes because that’s
the whole idea. Now, you are welcome
to proceed.
Part 1 [The Rider]
The ride app on his phone beeped. It
was a new request; the rider was
going to Murtala Muhammed Airport,
Ikeja. He wanted to decline, but for
some reason he tapped the ‘accept’
button. The person was at Foreshore
Estate on Osborne road, just 3 minutes
away.
When he got there, he saw it was a
‘she’, a white woman. He was already
counting dollar bills in his mind.
“Julius?” She asked, to be sure.
“Yes madam,” he affirmed, opening
the doors. She opted to sit in front-
which was quite unusual. Most female
riders preferred to sit at the back. It
was more of a defensive decision than
a status one.
The car was immediately filled with
the scent of an intoxicating perfume.
He felt dizzy. She was attractive; her
hair was blonde and she wore a
garish-red lipstick with a tank top and
a denim skirt well above her knees.
She had no luggage, which was odd for
someone going to the airport. Perhaps
she was going to meet someone.
“I’m starting the trip ma?” he
announced. It was part of their
drivers’ training. Every customer
needed to know this in case they
wanted to sync their trip.
“Sure, Julius,” she replied. And he
started off.
He drove carefully at 60mph. He had
often heard from other drivers how
oyinbo customers preferred slow and
steady rides. He wanted to maintain
his stellar ratings. However, when they
got to the ramp just before Third
Mainland Bridge (3MB), she touched
his thigh lightly.
“Julius, could you go a bit faster? I’m
in quite a hurry.” She smiled.
“Yes, ma,” he complied, increasing the
speed a bit.
He zoomed past the Christmas
billboards and lamp-posts, adroitly
dodging the usual potholes that dotted
3MB.
“Julius?”
“Ma?”
He took his eyes briefly off the road to
look at her. She had lowered the
window by her seat. The wind was
blowing her hair wild; she had an
excited expression on her face.
“Faster…let’s go beyond 100mph,” she
said. “I like the speed.” Her tone was
soft, almost sexual.
To Julius, the confession was not odd.
He knew people who liked the thrill of
speed- most especially while on the
bridge. There was something alluring
about racing along the highway,
suspended few meters above the Lagos
lagoon. It was invigorating and he was
beginning to feel it too. He stepped
harder on the pedal and the car shot
forward.
“Yes, Julius…faster. I love it fast.” She
crooned longingly. Her voice had
become guttural.
She set the seat back a bit and began
to caress her neck. Her other hand was
on her left breast, massaging it gently
as her long blonde hair flailed in the
breeze. She was writhing gently in the
seat.
Julius was turned on. He drove faster,
zipping past a bus and a blue Prado
jeep with a family in it. The car’s tyres
bumped against the metal rods that
held the bridge together. After a while,
they barely seemed to make contact
with the ground. His heart raced and
his pulse quickened; he hadn’t felt this
way in a long time.
“Faster, you can do this Julius,” she
urged.
He was doing almost 140mph now and
other cars were a blur at their side.
Somehow, he managed to maintain the
speed and avoid the potholes at the
same time.
“Yes, yes…yeeeeeeees!” She screamed.
He turned momentarily to look at her.
She shook vehemently and squeezed
her legs tightly as they descended the
bridge. Her eyes were shut tight. He
knew what was happening but
couldn’t believe it. Was she… Did she
just…?
He slowed down as they approached
Gbagada road. She had adjusted her
hair and set the seat back in position.
The rest of the trip was silent- like
nothing had happened. When they got
to the airport she paid him $100 – ten
times more than the usual fare.
“Thanks for the amazing ride, Julius.”
She winked. “I have your number, I’ll
call again.”
She slammed the door and
disappeared into MMA. He didn’t hear
from her again until a week later on
Christmas day.
***************************************
Part 2 [The Race]
He just had a heavy lunch and was
about to take a nap when his work
phone rang. He had decided not to
work today but answered it anyway.
“Hello, Julius.” The voice was soft. He
recognized it immediately.
“Yes madam,” he sat up quickly.
“Where are you? I need a ride to the
airport.”
“I’m close to Osborne road,” he lied.
“I’ll meet you soon.”
His house was 30 minutes away, but
he made it to her in 10. The empty
roads helped, but his fast driving
helped more.
She was wearing a short floral dress
and her perfume was much stronger
than before. He felt an automatic
stirring in his pants. She looked more
beautiful than the last time. Julius was
smitten with lust.
“Starting the ride now,” he told her.
She smiled and waved her hand with
careless accord.
He didn’t need to be told; as soon as
they approached 3MB, he threw the
car into third gear and began to
accelerate faster. As usual, she lowered
her window and lay back in the seat,
her thighs opened wide enough for
Julius to see that she wasn’t wearing
any panties.
“Yes, Julius,” she cooed. “That’s how I
like it.”
There was something in the way she
called his name. She was like a drug
and he embraced her aura like an
addicted submissive. He was ready to
do anything she asked. Before long, he
was zooming past cars and buses,
some of the drivers rained abuses at
his reckless driving.
Julius didn’t care. He overtook an
ambulance, a Camry and a company
bus. The car was on the fast lane and it
was whizzing along 3MB like a
Formula 1 hopeful gunning for the
finish line. His passenger now had her
hand between her thighs and her
exposed breasts were heaving to the
up-down motion of the bouncing car.
“Yes, Julius, faster… give it to me hard
and fast,” she compelled in her usual
guttural fashion.
Julius could barely see ahead of him,
but he was more interested in the
vision beside him. The smell of heated
rubber tyres filled the car, mixing with
her perfume and stimulating his lust
even more. He had adrenaline in his
veins and testosterone in his loins- a
dangerous combination.
“Faster…FASTEEEER!” her voice had
suddenly taken a commanding tone.
He obliged. As this point, if she had
told him to drive into the lagoon, he
would have done so without a
moment’s hesitation. Her desire fueled
his lust and he wanted more. Her body
was moving faster; rhythmically in
motion with the car- she was close .
If Julius had looked at the
speedometer, he would have seen they
were nearing 200mph but that was the
last thing on his mind. They were now
descending the bridge at break-neck
speed and she began to tremble.
“Yes, yes, YEEEEEE…” She began.
Overcome by desire, he took one hand
off the wheel to assist her. Reaching
for her open skirt, he discovered that
she was wet! He made to insert a
finger. The split-second distraction
was enough. He didn’t see the large
pothole before them.
Studies have shown that if a car enters
a pothole at 150mph, it was bound to
somersault, especially if it’s the front
tyre.
Julius’ left front tyre entered a deep
Lagos pothole at 200mph and flipped
into mid-air, somersaulting ten times
and dragging part of 3MB’s lower
railings before coming to a crushing
halt at the foot of the bridge.
It was a compressed mess of metal and
bloody mush, far beyond recognition
by the time it came to rest. As usual,
Lagos passersby gathered around in
wonder. When the LASEMA response
unit arrived, there was nothing they
could salvage, not even poor Julius,
whose mangled body was stuck
beneath the smoking wreck- far
beyond redemption.
“What’s the status?” A plain clothes
policeman asked a paramedic on the
scene.
“DOA,” he replied, shaking his head
sadly.
“This is the third one on the bridge
this month,” said the detective. “How
many casualties?”
“Just one; the driver. Witnesses say he
was flying way past the speed limit.”
“Probably had too much to drink. It’s
not uncommon during the festive
period,” concluded the detective.
“Well, good thing he was alone.”
***************************************
One Week Later
A driver responds a ride request. It’s a
blonde, white woman in a short dress.
“Hello, Ade,” she smiled as she sat in
the front seat. “I’m going to the
airport.”
She wore a strange, intoxicating
perfume.
He nodded. “I’m starting the trip
now.”
“Can you drive fast, Ade?”
“Yes ma, very fast.”
“Good. I like fast,” she answered,
lowering the seat a bit.
The End
