My First Okada Experience

I apprehensively swung my legs around the seat of the motorcycle, putting my hands on the bar beside me. Melanie and Anna were finalizing the price of the ride, 20 Naira for the short distance. The others drivers concurred that the Nyacha knew what an okada would cost and decided to take us along. Melanie and Anna are my two new German friends and work with me at the Therapeutic Day Care Center in Abapka, Enugu. They have both been here for about 5 months, and know their way around. The traffic here is insane; there are no signs, lines in the road or any road safety or regulations at all. There are hundreds of these okadas, motorcycles, everywhere. No one wears helmets and they skirt in and out of traffic. The okada drivers revved their engines and the vehicles sprang to life, speeding down the busy Nigerian streets. They weaved in and out of traffic, honking their horns and slowing for the occasional speed bump. As we sped along the road we saw many Nigerians stop and point, calling ‘nyacha, nyacha’ as we passed. Nyachas are a rare site here. To see three atop motorcycles was even rarer indeed. I have seen some amazingly talented drivers here, along with the terrible. Okadas carry up to five people on them and anyone with a motorcycle can basically start his own business of taxiing people around. I have seen the okada passengers carry mattresses, lumber, buckets of goods and even metal building materials atop their heads while speeding down the street at 60 miles an hour. The okada pulled over to the side of the road, dropping us at the end of our street. With shaky legs I hopped off, thankful that the ride was over, but exhilarated none the less. I had vowed I would never ride one, and I guess I just proved myself wrong.