![]() Na so-so trouble you dey cause me,” the conductor muttered. With palms clasped in front of her, she pleaded, “Oga, biko. “Na oga security go decide.” The conductor tilted his head in the direction of the security officer, who now stood at the bottom of the steps, poised to intervene. Visibly annoyed, the conductor pointed to the bag and said, “Sista, you no fit take am inside.” ![]() She shook her head, tightening her grip on the duffel strap. He motioned toward the open luggage compartments at the side of the bus. Uloma held her ticket out to the conductor. Women were treated to a metal detector waved back and forth over their clothing. He conducted a body search on male passengers by running his hands along their clothing, feeling pockets, and occasionally ordering their contents displayed. Whenever he cleared a traveler for boarding, the officer left his post. The conductor began ticketing passengers. From time to time he inhaled deeply, let loose a violent sneeze, hacked up phlegm, spat, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He leaned against the door, pinched snuff into his nostrils, and surveyed the passengers below him. Satisfied with his inspection, he returned to the head of the line, saluted no one in particular, and mounted the bus steps. The officer strolled past and prodded the cartons, suitcases, and bags that stood alongside their owners. From Atlantic Unbound: Interviews: "Out of the Darkness" (July 11, 2006) Ada Udechukwu on art, writing, and the politics of her troubled homeland.
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