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"Good evening, this is your captain speaking. Welcome aboard Nigerian Air Flight 109. The no-smoking sign is now finally off, so feel free to light cigarettes in the designated smoking areas and we apologize for any inconveniences the delay has caused. The delay was due to bad weather, but everything should be fine now. We will be cruising at an altitude of 37 000 feet and should be making our first stop in Cairo in five hours. After a refueling stop there, our destination, Syria, will be only three hours away."
"What?!" "What?!"
The passengers began to mumble and grumble, some began shouting. Flight 109 was scheduled to go to Rome so what was this pilot talking about Syria?
"Abeg stop dis plane make I comot here!" the lady next to me suggested, "I go walk back go airport." It would have been rather odd to drop her off there since we had been flying for almost thirty minutes already, and over water, no less. I was rather perturbed myself. I rang the bell for a stewardess so I could find out what the hell was going on. The stewardess arrived. She looked like a plump crayon. It was the effect of over-bleaching her skin. Her skin was really orange, but her slight beard, dark in color (with an underlying bluish hue), contrasted sharply.
"Can I 'elp yoew?" she asked in a British cockney accent. Wanting to show that I, too, had visited London, I retorted: "Yes, plyse, oi waws jawst wowndering woahw 'appened. Oi waws uwnder the impresh'n that this floight woulwd be gawing to Rawme."
She was not to be outdone. "Well, the floight's bahyn rerouw'ehd toow Saiy-rya caws weey coow-oont get permish'n toow lahynd in Rawme. Weey're rayly sawry fowr the ayncownvynience sir" and with that she left, feeling triumphant in her stupidity.
I was aghast and would have been beside myself if the lady at my side wasn't already there. She seemed a feisty one, this lady. I watched her as she shuffled her feet uneasily and tied/untied her wrapper. Somebody should warn her that Europe was not Kongi, and it was cold there. For some reason she refused to use the overhead compartments to store her hand-luggage. This made it really annoying and inconvenient for there was a certain smell coming from her large, white bag.
"Shet men! Gard dem it! I don noh worris strong wit dees peeps men. Shet! I mean. If dey was gonna gorra go to Siria, den dey shour have telled us men, shet! Dis is just silly men. Shet!"
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