Friendship hostel: The longest bus ride in my life.

Currently, my favorite mode of transport is relative. It depends on the situation, mood, and finances at that moment. I'm yet to experience air travel.

When I was pregnant, I enjoyed motorcycles and tricycles. It sounds weird, but the breeze and air made it relaxing and calming for me.

Now, I prefer the bus. It’s affordable, and I love that it allows interaction with other commuters. I can easily see the road, buy things of interest along the way, and just experience the journey especially the different boundary reception that reads "welcome to ......".

One memorable travel experience was my NYSC 2018 journey to Kaduna.

I was hoping to be posted to the south east.
When I saw the call up letter, it was Kaduna.
I was sad because it was miles away from my state.
We boarded the second bus unknown to us, our driver had not been to the north before.
We only found out when he missed his way thrice.

And we ended up somewhere else. He spent a lot of money on fuel. By this time, it was getting dark.

We had to use our phone GPS to find our way back. Our situation was already like the blind leading the blind, so we became fully dependent on the GPS guidance.

We were lucky that the bus was in a good condition. We closed the windows and put on the air conditioning set.

Hunger and thirst was lost to fear, panic and anxiety. The driver stopped by a fuel station to refill and bought us some fruits to appreciate and apologize as well.

We continued the journey because there was no where to rest. We held unto each other singing and praying for safety. Our parents called almost hourly to know the situation.

That was the longest travel I have had by bus yet. We finally arrived at almost dawn of the next day.

The soldiers checked us in and allocated mattresses for the hostel. My bunk number was 92, in Friendship Hostel. We ate some food. While we laid on the bed, our backs and waists ached from pain after more than 24 hours on the road. But that bunk still felt like victory and comfort.

The next morning, we were served bread, tea and a boiled egg. After which we started proper documentation. I enjoyed their indigenous meal "Tuwo and okra soup".
I still look forward to having it any day 🙂.

Whenever I take a walk down the memory lane, I'm 💯 percent always grateful to God for his protection.

That trip taught me that bus travel can make strangers become family. It is more of survival, adaptation and journey.

Photo of me at the black gold orientation camp, Kaduna.