Uber-who?

We all know how much I enjoy trotro rides. I have even learnt how to climb a troski in heels and a pencil skirt, but ever since I ripped the back of my dress getting into a 207, I vowed not to sit in a troski unless I absolutely had to.

Enter Uber.

Cheaper rates than the regular taxis, most of the time.

If you are lucky, you can pull up for your event in the backseat of a Honda Accord. On other days, it is the matchbox, Daewoo Matiz.

Like a boss. With your perfume and the back of your dress intact.

Until the day when every Uber is more than 20 minutes away and there is a price surge.

68 cedis for a 20 cedis journey.

Because of what?

Anyway, on a day like this, you swallow your pride and walk to the main road to stop one of the many taxis that you typically ignore, as you make your way to sit in the air conditioned Uber.

‘Taxi!’

‘ Yeess Ohemaa. Where you dey go?’

‘Airport.’

’40 Ghana.’

‘ Ah boss, I will give you 25 cedis.’

‘Ei madam paa? Sakumono to Airport?’

‘Boss, that is what I pay everyday.’

‘Oh madam, add 5 cedis.’

‘No, 25 cedis is all I will pay.’

‘Oh Ohemaa, 5 cedis pɛ?’

‘If it is pɛ, then dash it to me. 25 cedis, will you go?’

‘Ei! Yoo, let’s go.’

Oga Taxi driver didn’t know that Uber was not an option at the moment. He probably just accepted the fare because he was afraid that I would whip out my phone and request for a car before his very eyes.

I sat in the car and asked him to roll down the glasses. I was told that this was how the car was when his master gave it to him. No AC, no natural air.

Shortly afterwards, I asked him if he could change the radio station to Citi FM. I didn’t want to miss Bernard Avle’s commentary on his visit to Denmark.

‘No.’

‘No as in the dial cannot be moved or you won’t change it?’

‘I won’t change it. It is time for ‘Fa bɛ wɔ su.’ I don’t want to miss it. It is a ‘fine’ programme.’

‘Excuse me?’, I thought to myself.

I whipped out my phone ready to type out my complaint to Uber Ghana when I remembered that it was just a taxi.

As if depriving me of #CitiCBS wasn’t enough, he started singing- loudly. Even my two fake phone calls were not enough to give him the ‘lower your voice’ hint.

Then he decided that we should enact a session of Need for Speed. He started overtaking people, taking sharp turns and driving right into potholes.

Fam, I was livid!

Once again, I had to suppress the urge to report him. GPRTU doesn’t have a mobile app, right?

We finally arrived at Airport. I gave him his 25 cedis and started to get out of the car.

‘Oh madam, no coins for Hausa Koko? Add 2 cedis eh?’

You have got to be kidding me?!

One star would have been his portion without fail!

Funny thing is, before Uber, all this would have been normal. Post-Uber, that was absurd.

Just when I got to the gate, he honked.

I turned to see him sticking his head out of the car.

‘Madam, should I wait for you?’

20 thoughts on “Uber-who?

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