In Ibadan, it is normal to board a bike (okada) with a stranger unless you are ready to pay the full transport fare yourself.

That fateful day, I was on my way to work when I saw an elderly woman already on the bike, so I joined her.

When we got to Soka junction; if you are familiar with Soka, you will know how chaotic and congested it can get because of the heavy flow of bikes and riders, we both alighted.

The bike rider wanted to park properly, and in my usual rush, I was already trying to cross to the other side of the road.

Then the woman asked if I was going to collect change. I quickly said no.

That was my mistake.

She offered to “help” and collected my ₦200, saying she would give it to the bike man on my behalf.

I didn’t think twice.

Tell me why, just as I was walking off, I started hearing bikemen shouting and stopping me. At first, I didn’t even realize they were calling me.

Eventually, the bike man caught up with me and said:

“Sister, you never pay me o.”

That was when reality hit me.

I tried explaining that I had given the money to the woman I boarded with, but he insisted he never received anything. The woman? Gone. Vanished into Soka traffic.

At that point, “Little Miss Broke” in me wanted to argue, but shame did not allow me. I simply paid another ₦200.

My mood was ruined for the rest of the day.

Looking back, it was my first real “Ibadan lesson.”

And maybe it supports what people say, change really does have to start with individuals. But experiences like this make you wonder. ₦200 is not life-changing money, yet someone still chose to take it instead of doing the right thing.

Anyway, that was my first impression of Ibadan.

Ibadan ki ni so re?