One Wet Morning in Lagos: A True-to-Life Story

Ada woke up at 5:30 a.m. like she did every weekday. The small fan in her room made more noise than cool air, but she was used to it. She lived in a busy part of Lagos with her mother and two younger brothers.

Her father had passed away three years ago, so she carried a lot on her shoulders. Today was special.

Ada had an interview at a big bank in Victoria Island. She had applied for a customer service job six months earlier, and now they finally called her.

“Wear something neat,” her mother said as she fried plantain. “God will make a way.” Ada put on her best white blouse and black skirt. She tied her hair properly and checked her CV one last time.

By 7 a.m., she was at the bus stop. But the traffic was already bad. Danfo buses were full, and people shouted at each other. She waited twenty minutes, then decided to take an okada.

The rider, a young man called Musa, wore a faded yellow helmet. “Aunty, VI?” he asked. “Yes, how much?” Ada replied. “Two thousand,” he said. “Too much! One thousand five,” she bargained.

They settled for one thousand eight hundred. Ada climbed on, holding her bag tight. As they zoomed through the streets, she prayed silently. “Lord, let me get this job. My family needs it.”

Halfway there, the rain started. Not small rain—big, heavy drops. Musa stopped under a shop veranda. “Aunty, this rain no go stop soon,” he said.

Ada looked at her watch. The interview was at 9 a.m. She felt panic rising. Her blouse was getting wet at the edges. She thought about turning back, but then she remembered her mother’s words: “Small steps lead to big places.”

She turned to Musa. “Can we go? Even if it’s raining?” He smiled. “No problem, Aunty. Hold well.” They rode on. Water splashed everywhere.

Ada‘s hair got soaked, her shoes filled with water, but Musa drove carefully. He avoided big puddles and slowed down at sharp bends. When they reached the bank, Ada was dripping wet.

She paid him extra. “Thank you, Musa. God bless you.” Inside the building, she rushed to the restroom. She dried her face, fixed her hair as best as she could, and changed into the spare top she always carried in her bag—just in case.

When her name was called, she walked into the room with wet shoes but dry confidence. The three interviewers looked surprised at her appearance.

“You came in this rain?” one asked. “Yes, sir,” Ada said. “I didn’t want to miss this chance.” They smiled. The interview went well.

She answered questions about customer service, teamwork, and handling pressure. She even told them about the okada ride and how it taught her not to give up.

Two weeks later, Ada got the call. She got the job. That evening, she bought rice and stew for the family.

Her mother hugged her tight. “See? Small decisions matter.” Ada thought about Musa, too.

Sometimes she saw him at the junction. She always waved. That one okada ride in the rain wasn’t just transport—it was a reminder that pushing through tough moments can change your life. The end.