Whenever I find myself in Kano, I find it more convenient and less stressful to park my car somewhere and engage the services of Keke NAPEP, popularly called "A-Daidaita-Sahu", to take me to wherever I am going.
The three wheeled scooter is threatening to take up the whole streets of Kano, if it hasn't already done that. They're everywhere you go and the way they crisscrossed the roads without consideration of traffic rules and regulations is enough to give one high blood pressure.
Gone are the days you enjoy driving in Kano even to someone like me whose hobby is driving. It reminds me of the late 80s when we used to accompany my father to Kano. Even at that time, driving in some parts of Kano metropolis could be a nightmare.
I remember a particular incidence when for some reason, my father's driver wasn't available and as one of the few youngsters in the family who had a driver's license, my father told me to drive him to Kano that day - he never allowed children who had no driver's license to drive him.
I remember he was accompanied that day by one of his brothers and a retired Police Officer (CID), popularly called Sgt. Sani in our locality, even though he had retired at the rank of ASP at the time. By the time we reached Kano, Sgt. Sani was full of praises for my driving skills. He said it was rare to find a young man who drove expertly without taking risks.
My father completed his business transactions at L. Ambrosini, a company owned by late Alhaji Baballe Ila, and collected a lot of money in bags which we crammed into the boot of the Peugeot 504 GR we came with. Bank transfer was unknown at the time and you couldn't collect money from any bank except where your account was domiciled.
We drove out of the company and someone whom we gave a lift pleaded with my father to take him to Sabon-Gari market where he wanted to see someone - I still remember the man's name, one Alhaji Abdurrazaƙ Dayi. We parked outside the market and he went in. Then, suddenly, we heard shouts and commotion. When I looked around, a huge crowd was on the heels of a man they were chasing and shouting, "Ɓarawo"! And they headed directly towards us. My father really got worked up and agitated. He told me to drive off and leave the man we were waiting for, then remembered the man's money was also in the boot of our car. About three times he told me to drive, then he would again tell me to stop. Then, suddenly, the man came and we drove off, leaving the crowd behind.
Throughout our drive from Kano to Dayi, where we dropped off the man, my father tongue lashed him and told him never to combine carrying money in Kano and visiting another place. Even at that time, hoodlums, called "Ƴandaba", were notorious in Kano. They would have ambushed us in that crowd and stolen the money or even set the car ablaze.
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