On my walk today, I stopped and watched a bus conductor loading a bus going to CMS. He was running around, calling for passengers, trying to fill the bus. Nothing unusual about that in Lagos, but something about him caught my attention amongst every other conductor around. He had this worried look on his face.

I looked into the bus and saw that there were only about six passengers inside, so naturally, I attached the few passengers to the worry I thought I saw on his face.

Then the driver started moving while the conductor was still some distance away from the bus which is the usual Lagos way. He ran after it, caught up, hung onto the side and continued shouting the destination.

CMS! CMS!

But no one was getting in.

As I watched him, I started wondering what an empty bus meant for him. Did fewer passengers mean less money for him that day. And did less money mean a bill unpaid, a meal postponed, or simply going home with less than he hoped.

Maybe that wasn’t even what he was worried about. Maybe there was something completely different on his mind.

I do this sometimes. Some days, I slow down the world by randomly picking someone walking by, studying their countenance and wondering, “what’s on their mind”.

Everyone is going somewhere. Everyone is carrying something. And most times, we walk right past each other without ever knowing what that something is.

I hope he filled that bus. I hope whatever I thought I saw on his face disappeared, even if only for a while.

Sometimes relief isn’t some grand change in circumstance. Sometimes it’s just a full bus going to CMS.