On a very bright evening, I was on my way back from work and we got stuck in the usual traffic congestion on Aba road in Port Harcourt. Commercial drivers got into their usual frantic effort to get ahead by any means–possible or impossible. So, commercial drivers took the singular honour of displaying their expertise, graced with climbing and crossing the pedestrian lane effortlessly. It happened that as our driver took turn to follow suite, it was unfortunate that he had to beg one private car owner for space. Pissed by these indecent acts, the private car owner refused to grant him access. It was like some choirmaster stood in front and made some gestures for an orchestra to begin; the whole passengers in the bus yelled: WICKED MAN! Some went as far as raining abuses on him. I was disturbed, I really was. I took some time out to ponder as well, but sincerely, I couldn’t fix it. So, if you don’t mind, let me ask: What are the criteria for calling someone “wicked?”


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