Your hands?(scratches head vigorously ) that title is surely not appropriate but what better title can you give this very annoying and irritating act perpetrated mostly by men in Lagos (Nigeria, as a whole)!

I am trying to be as angry as I can while writing this so I can relay these different scenarios exactly how they played out…

I can count on one hand the number of times I have left my house and not encountered one drama or another on the streets or in a bus since I moved to this uproarious city.

Where do I even start? I am beginning to lose focus see how easy it is…a couple of my female friends have told me how men tried to touch them inappropriately in buses or in rowdy areas. The very first story I heard was in Calabar during the carnival, I was taken aback. I kept wondering what level of perversion would lead a man to try and stroke his crotch on an unsuspecting girl’s butt in public. Haba!

Another one said, she was in a bus from Ikeja to Oshodi at night, it was pretty tight and discomforting yet this fine young man tried to stroke her butt from behind in the pretext of trying to make himself comfortable! Chai!(bites fingers) 

When I first heard these stories, I won’t lie oh! I felt maybe they were a bit exaggerated or something… A man can’t be that horny na atleast not in a stuffy, cramped vehicle.


It happened to me…

First hand experience was in a BRT from Ojota to Ikorodu, one of those unfortunate days when I had to wait (standing) hours after a frenzied day at work and then I have no choice but to jump into the next available BRT that comes by whether I have to sit or not. I just want to get to the house.

That’s how yours truly stood, hands on the seat in front of me, laptop bag slung across my body and left hanging by the side. Hence, my small bum was not protected from these ever horny men (grimaces)

This ‘gentleman’ dressed neatly enough to easily pass for a responsible ‘somebody’ was right behind me, one hand on the BRT rail, one on his side. The BRT was packed full but what was my own I had small space to breathe in proper oxygen and I could at least lip-sync to one of my favourite tracks in 2016 that was blaring from the vehicle’s stereo; Miracle by Dice Ailes and Lil Kesh.

Back to my story, Oga probably thought my body was a miracle oh! The miracle that will cure his stress after a long day because I don’t understand…As the BRT jerked, I felt something hard on my bum bum, I shook my head, nah, it was a mistake. I over think things like they always say.

I stayed put, I felt it again and I just had to turn, the yeye man had a ‘I-don’t-even-know-what’s happening’ look but I could swear that where he was standing was not the same spot he was on when we boarded the BRT, I shifted forward, closer to the lady ahead of me, in fact too close for comfort but I would not have a strange man’s crotch rub my behind knowingly or unknowingly. Mba!

Seconds later, I feel it again and no I am not making it up, apaz, he had come closer too! Wow! I whirled and this time our eyes met and I gave him a stern look.

Irate, I changed the position of my laptop bag and ensured it covered scratch that shielded my dear bum, of course, he knew better than to come any closer.

I heaved a sigh of relief when I got off that BRT and I thought to myself, where did this one come from?

Fast forward to the later months of 2017, I was trying to cross the road (it takes me a century to get on the other side) . That fateful morning, I was just on the 5th year wondering why the drivers won’t just slow down so a sister can cross.

Oh well, one did as I was just about to cross and mutter my thanks, he stuck his coconut head (which probably has no water) out of his car and yelled, ”you go sweet to f*#k!”

I died! Ah! That one was strong! I just ran into the road without checking for an incoming vehicle. I was downright weak! These people tho’…I reiterate that they need to be schooled on sexual harassment. It’s not until you force her into your room and try to tear pant. 

I lumbered like a dejected child to my office thinking I had seen it all for the year. Certainly not!

A day after Christmas, I sat beside this middle aged man dressed in white Kaftan with a very fake American accent when he spoke my stomach churned but he was nice enough to wish me a Merry Christmas in arrears so I had to be on my best behavior.

I stretched my hand to buy water and he was too excited to be the middle man as he gently handed me the water and my balance. I told him thank you and gave him my million-watt smile. Mama raised me well right?

This particular bus was quite comfortable and spacious so no indiscriminate touching in the name of, ‘I am trying to adjust’ but would some of these men have sense?

Less than five minutes into our journey, I felt fingers on the side of my left breast. I forgot to mention that it was about 7:30pm and the vehicle was poorly lit.

I adjusted and I thought to myself he is probably dozing off, I try to peer at his face and man is wide awake! See me see wahala oh!

I felt since I had moved a bit, he would receive sense. No way! Do we still call these ones pervs? There must be another name in the dictionary…there must!

Man in white took his hands down to my lap, I had to speak out, 

‘Watch your hands!’ I said in the most courteous voice I could muster although he was undeserving still…

He looked at me and grunted. I shifted farther away from him. I was livid! The person next to me was a younger man so I had to be careful too (before they join forces and squeeze me like Eba)

 At this time, I was fuming, I had dropped my good girl garment and I was fully ready to cause a scene, then he taps me and whispers,

‘Can I have your number?’ Directing his weather beaten phone toward me.

Father Lord! 

‘No!!’ I shrieked. I still regret that I responded. He glanced at me, put his phone back in his pocket and folded his hands!! 

So he was well aware of where to keep his hands the whole time. Mscheew. He knew better than try to touch me again.

On a serious note, what’s with some of these men? Why can’t you keep your hands to yourself even in a public vehicle. Haba uncle! It’s a shame really.

Men like that will unabashedly touch a 5-year-old girl inappropriately and still feel it’s his right because he is a man and has needs. Well done!

Most men do need to get their act right. It’s not even funny. Stop making women feel it’s a ‘man thing’ when it’s actually a ‘you thing’. Please, keep your hands to yourself. 

Everybody gets horny at some point but they don’t take to buses to feel people up like beef on a butcher’s table. Advise yourself please.

If your hands are restless, play candy crush…if you can’t play candy crush, close your eyes and sleep! That’s much better anyway…
Image Source: Ask.Naija

8 thoughts on “On The Streets Of Gidi: Your Hands, Sir!

  1. πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚ very nice and funny article.
    God save us from perverts everywhere.

    Good job sweetheart.

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