Early Morning Traffic to Work and Preparation

For a while, I’ve been looking to start this segment on the blog. I’m so excited to share with you: The Workaholic Series. I’m sure you’ll love it as much as I’ve enjoyed creating and planning this segment.

On what to expect, you’ll have the opportunity to read relatable stories on the life of workers. There’ll be hilarious stories, serious ones and from time to time you can expect one or two jokes.

This segment will have more of story telling depicting reality in a bid to juxtapose life in diverse settings. Please bear in mind that most of these stories will be fictitious. Where otherwise, I’ll be glad to state so.

I’ve always wanted to do this and I’m so excited to get the ball rolling. I hope you enjoy!


She was restless and unsettled. The heat in the room was a tad bit suffocating. Warm sweat rolled through the back of her ear and flowed down her cheeks reaching her neck.

She moved to the edge of the bed in such a timely fashion as though that side of the mattress was perfect for a stage play.

The other side of her mattress was completely soaked with sweat. The Power Holding Company of Nigeria; the major supplier of electricity in the country, had once again failed to provide the constant supply of electricity – for the second week in a row.

Not that this was news. It had become the norm. It had been the situation of things for quite some time.

In a bid to be sarcastic and humorous, most residents of the neighborhood jokingly called the company “Power holding”, as though, in literal terms, the company was indeed holding ‘power’.

Do you get the joke?

The heat was unbearable and at some point, Jane’s eyes shone and were wide open.

She wiped the sweat off her face with the back of her right palm, took an old newspaper lying loose on the floor beside her bed, and made an effort to fan herself. Her phone beeped.

“Tatatata… Tatatata… Tatatata..” It was the alarm.

The alarm rang every morning anytime from 5:00 AM. She would quickly snooze the alarm as many times as her sleepy eyes would let her to. It had become conventional and more like a morning tradition for her. All the same, she made sure she set the alarm on her phone every night before bed. Actually, it was automatically set on her phone.

These days she had decided to not keep her phone under her pillow. She had read countless articles on the dangers of doing so. Besides, she always had a slight headache whenever she did, the next morning.

All efforts to wake up early enough proved futile. All the same, she set her alarm every day.

She was about making another attempt to snooze the alarm. It would be the fifth time she will snooze the alarm this morning. The phone was positioned on a table right beside her bed and was sitting right on the edge of the said table. The phone lost its balance and landed on the floor as she made a further attempt to reach it.

The sound was screeching. Not particularly the kind of sound any one wants to hear early in the morning.

At this point, she was startled and aware that it will be stupid of her to try to snooze it again. And besides, the sound had killed the urge to return to sleep.

“Oh my God, not again!” She muttered as she picked up the phone and realized what the time was. It was 5:50 AM.

She wasn’t astonished anyway. It wasn’t the first time she will wake up this late. The last time was a few weeks ago; far enough to make her feel like she was getting better with time management.

RelatableTime Management at work – Zinny Factor Vlog

RelatablePersonal Time Management

She knew she had to be out of the house soon to hit the road for 6:10 AM.

It was her reality. She had become so used to waking up late and having to rush her way through things. No stunt she pulled ever seemed to work and so she had resigned to fate. In the past, she had tried to sleep early, set up her alarm for 5:00 AM, slept with shoes on to feel discomfort in order to wake up early.

Nothing seemed to work.

On one occasion, she had told her sister to sprinkle water on her face when it was past a certain time. Needless to say, she woke up furious that day and scolded her sister, completely forgetting that she had instructed her to do so. It wasn’t until after noon that it occurred to her that she was simply a douche for shouting at the poor child.

You name it -anything at all. Jane had tried it all!

She made up her mind to go with her reality. She will set her alarm every day and just wing it. Of course, with her fingers crossed. The goal was to leave her house at least 6:10 AM every day to make it in time to work despite heavy traffic on the commute every day.

To be frank she did a fairly good job every day with dressing up as quickly as possible.

At 6:05 AM, she had had her bath. Her hair was a complete mess and hadn’t been combed. She wore a black skirt and a slightly fitted red shirt. As always, she had forgotten to iron the skirt the night before, so it was slightly rumpled.

Early Morning Traffic to Work and Preparation

The early morning rush

“This skirt will stretch out as I move about.” She consoled herself.

She had her slippers on, grabbed her office bag, threw in her laptop, work shoes, and made her way to the door. She will do her makeup and brush her hair in the office shuttle bus.

“Bye! I’m leaving.” She screamed as she let herself out.

She lived with her family and made the same statement every day on her way to work. Jane followed the office shuttle to work every day. The regular traffic on the way to work made using the shuttle more desirable.

That way, she will be able to sleep in the bus while the driver struggled with the navigation. She could also engage in office chats with other colleagues while scuffling with her makeup. The gallops on the road made it the more hectic, but she will choose it over missing the office shuttle bus and having to drive or enter a commercial bus.

At this time she was on the road and waiting for a bike.

“Hey, Okada.” Jane yelled.

Okada is what most Lagosians (people who live in Lagos, Nigeria) call motorcycle riders. Bike riding had become very commercial over time in Lagos, Nigeria and was quite lucrative for those who chose to enter that line of business.

“Yes ma.” a bike rider replied as he stopped by.

“Take me to the express. How much?”

“Hundred Naira, ma.” He responded, looking so excited to have found his first customer this dark early morning.

If he charged her more money, Jane would have to bargain with him and this will cost her more time. She was particularly happy that the said price was the commonly accepted rate. Some motorcycle riders could be so greedy at times and this could jeopardize her arrival time.

She mounted the bike behind him and he sped off.

Soon after she was at the express and lucky enough to make it just in time. She paid the bike rider who thanked her and left, ran towards the office shuttle bus and sat in her usual spot, right beside the window.

The office shuttle bus moved slowly as the traffic had started to build up as expected. In a few minutes, other co-workers approached and took their seats. They greeted each other and the bus soon became lively, with lots of chatter and laughter.

The driver will approach other bus stops to pick up other co-workers as they embarked on the journey to the office situated on the island.

Jane took out her makeup bag, brought out a mirror from it and thought to herself. She will be held up in this traffic for the next two hours or more depending on contingencies. She will feel frustrated again as always, as though her life was beaten. The daily traffic zapped up her mental state. She dreaded it but couldn’t help it.

She will try again to be early for work tomorrow, but she knew that her mental state and well being needed a change. She couldn’t continue this way for too long.

Tomorrow was another day to think of an exit strategy.


What did you think of this story? Do you also go through daily traffic and how do you manage it or plan to improve your well being? Please share in the comment section, you could help someone today.

*The plot of this story is set in Lagos, Nigeria and is fictitious.