Navigating Lagos in the iconic molue buses used to be an exhilarating adventure filled with unforgettable thrills and chaotic energy. As the crowded buses meandered through the busy roads of the city, the passengers on it were treated to fights, witty banters and unscripted drama, birthing vibrant memories in the minds of many Lagosians and visitors to the state. CHIJIOKE IREMEKA captures the drama that used to unfold daily on the unwieldly vehicles that were once the heartbeat of commuting in Lagos
The origin
The history of public road transportation in Lagos dates back to the 1950s with “bolekaja” lorries, which were replaced by molue buses in the 70s and 80s.
‘Bolekaja,’ a Yoruba phrase, which means, ‘Come down and let’s fight,’ was a wooden lorry with a passenger carriage at the back where people were crammed together.
During arguments, there was never enough space, so passengers would ask to come down and fight, hence the name of the vehicle, “bolekaja”. When bolekaja was banned, the molue replaced it.
The molue was usually a Mercedez Benz 911 flatbed truck, fitted with locally made passenger compartments. Many of the buses were so rickety that aside from the steering wheel, the dashboards were often bereft of functioning gadgets.
It is said that the name “molue,” is a Yoruba adaptation of the word “remold,’ or the phrase, “molud it”.
Meanwhile, a 2012 report by Vanguard Newspaper, titled, ‘Molue: The ‘dinosaur’ fights back,’ also claimed that “molue” is a corruption of the words, ‘maul him.’
According to the report, the name was given by the city’s elite, who were appalled at the manner in which passengers often had their clothes, and in some cases, their flesh, torn while trying to embark or disembark from the bus.
The vehicle was so popular and synonymous with commuting that legendary afrobeat musician, Fela Anikulapo-Kuti, referenced it in his song, ‘Shuffering and Shmilling.’
Alluding to the crowded nature of the buses, he had used the phrase, “44 sitting, 99 standing”, which was the usual arrangement of passengers then.
However, the major attraction of molue for many Lagosians was its affordable prices. For most job seekers, students, traders, factory workers, artisans and low-income civil servants, the molue was their best bet.
In no time, the molue became a symbol of Lagos’ bustling transport system, hauling large numbers of the citizenry from one end of the state to another. It represented the bustling and pulsating signature of Lagos and the never-say-die spirit of the average resident.
Over the years, the buses were phased out, making way for newer and more regulated modes of transportation.
But, despite the shift towards modern buses, the molue remains a cultural symbol of the city, representing both the vibrancy and chaos of Lagos life. This is particularly so because of the plethora of diverse experiences that unfolded on the buses daily.
Preachers, hawkers jostle for space and attention
Preachers were a common fixture of the ubiquitous buses. Passengers often had to listen to their sermons, regardless of their religious inclinations or dispositions.
The “itinerant pastors” usually took advantage of the captive audience to deliver their messages of hope, salvation, and oftentimes, dire warnings of the woes that would befall “sinners”.
A mother, Mrs Benedict Osakwe, who used to be a regular molue passenger, told our correspondent that the practice was so widespread that it became a norm in many parts of the state.
She said, “Passengers, whether they wanted to listen or not, often found themselves in a situation where the preacher’s voice dominated the atmosphere, amplified by a megaphone in some cases.
“Sometimes, there might even be up to three preachers waiting their turn one after the other, with numerous drug hawkers also jostling for the attention of the passengers.”
She added that in some cases, one person would overshadow the others, preaching without allowing others to take their turn, which often led to loud complaints and even fisticuffs.
For some passengers though, the preaching was seen as a spiritual moment; a chance to hear a word of encouragement or inspiration amid a chaotic commute, she said.
“However, for others, it was an unwelcome intrusion, especially if they were not interested in religious messages,” she concluded.
Meanwhile, for Sunday Adebowale, one of the most striking features of the molue bus experience he can’t forget in a hurry is the constant presence of hawkers, selling everything from snacks to drinks and traditional medicines.
Those hawkers, were known for their persistence, often walking through the aisles, shouting about their products and trying to get the attention of passengers.
Adebowale noted that while on the bus, he had come across hawkers selling different products, including herbal remedies, pain relievers, traditional medicines, cosmetics and even clothes; all of which were hawked with an aggressive urgency that made it difficult for passengers to ignore.
Other products that were sold ranged from bestseller books, past examination papers, and other books containing current affairs and song lyrics.
Theatre of fights, chaos
Like its predecessor— bolekaja— molue also had more than its fair share of fights. These were either among passengers, preachers and hawkers, and even drivers and their conductors.
Noting that rides on the molue buses were often filled with tension, Adebowale said, “Disagreements between passengers and conductors were frequent, often escalating into shouting matches or even physical confrontations.
“Conductors, who were responsible for collecting fares, could be aggressive in their dealings with passengers, sometimes demanding higher fares or pushing people out of the way.
“Passengers, in turn, could get frustrated, especially when the bus was overcrowded or running late, leading to verbal disputes. There were regular fights on the bus. On some occasions, the fights were due to minor things that ‘I’m sorry’ could have settled.
“Don’t forget that it was usually a case of many people struggling for limited space. On one occasion, two guys fought over whose right it was to occupy a particular seat. A friend, who got onboard first during the rush hour traffic, placed a bag on a seat to secure it for another who hadn’t got onboard.
“But, another person removed it and sat down. In the process, the person who wanted to secure the space for his friend engaged the guy who sat in the space in a fight. Incidents like that were a routine occurence.”
A trader at the popular Ladipo market in the state, Phill Ibemesi, confessed that he had once fought onboard the bus.
He recalled that another passenger had stepped on him while they were both struggling to get a footing on the bus. He added that when he called the other passenger’s attention to the fact that he had stepped on him, he refused to apologise.
“Instead of him to apologise, he denied stepping on me, and even cut my slippers. One thing led to another and we came to blows. After the brief fight on the bus, he started bragging that he would beat me. So when we alighted, we continued the brawl before we were separated,” he said.
‘Stay alert or lose belongings’
For 45-year-old Christopher Jideofor, molue offered him an avenue to get cheap services, but at the same time, once cost him his phone, money, wallet and other valuables.
As a sales executive at an insurance company, he had grown accustomed to the hustle and bustle of the city, but there were still moments that tested his grit.
He noted that he had woken up that fateful day ready to face the day’s challenges. He planned to get on a molue bus to attend a meeting with a client, then return home.
He had been told that molue was the quickest and most affordable way to travel, especially during the early morning rush. On getting to the bus-stop, he quickly realised that the buses were not as reliable as he had been led to believe.
“The streets were jam-packed with people; some trying to catch a ride, others just walking around in the sweltering Lagos heat. The roads were filled with traffic, and the buses seemed to be moving at a glacial pace,” he said.
To make matters worse, the nearest molue stop was far away from his location, and determined to reach his destination on time, he set off, weaving through the crowd as best as he could.
With his phone, wallet, and transport money securely tucked into his pockets, he pressed forward, hoping that he would eventually find a molue that would take him to where he needed to go.
As he approached the bus stop, a molue screeched to a halt. “Without thinking, I joined the crowd, trying to squeeze my way onto the bus. I didn’t realise that amidst the hustle and chaos, I had unknowingly become a target.
“My eyes were fixed ahead, not noticing the subtle movements around me. However, I felt a strange twinge in my side as a hand slipped into my pocket, but by the time I registered what had happened, the thieves had already made their move,” he said.
A few moments later, he reached into his pockets but his wallet, phone, and transport fare were gone.
“I checked my pockets, but they were all empty. The pickpockets had robbed me. The phone with which I was to contact my client was gone. My wallet which contained my identification cards was also gone. It seemed like a movie to me.”
A social media user simply identified as Foxy also recounted a funny but sad account of how his friend’s new phone was stolen in a molue ride from Ikeja to Oshodi.
Foxy said, “No forming for molue o. You don’t browse with ipad inside molue. It’s only in Bus Rapid Transport scheme. My friend bought a mobile phone. I was still helping him explore the phone along the road. We got to Ikeja Along where we had to board a bus to Oshodi.
“No bus was forthcoming, so we settled for molue. You should have seen how people where rushing this bus as if it’s the last bus to heaven. We also rushed onboard of course. We were barely seated when my friend discovered that his pocket had been picked, and his phone was stolen.
“I couldn’t help but laugh at what he did next. He stood up and shouted, ‘Praise the Lord.’ And typical 9ja people, we shouted back, ‘Halleluiah!’ He said, ‘My phone has just been stolen here in this bus and the Spirit of God told me the phone is still here. Whoever found the phone should kindly return it to me.’
“After that, passengers started dialing his number, and people were looking under the seats. But the phone wasn’t found. My friend sat down after announcing that God would deal with the thief. The funniest thing was that the conductor still collected transport fare from him. It was a sad day for him.”
Injuries caused by jumping in, out of moving molue
A 54-year-old, Paul Omenka, is nursing a knee injury he sustained on the day he jumped out of a moving molue and fell on his knee.
Omenka had closed work for the day and raced home to catch up with a football match but trying not to miss his bus stop, he was forced to jump out of the moving bus.
He recalled, “Many passengers, particularly those in a rush or afraid of missing their bus stop, would jump onto the moving bus or leap off while it was still in motion. In some cases, the haste led to dangerous accidents.
“I had a similar experience on the Ijesha —Mile 2 route. It is an incident that still lingers in my mind. I jumped out of the bus and fell. I sustained a knee injury that has not fully healed to date. People often jumped off the moving bus, losing their balance and falling off.
“For every new patron of molue back then, falling on the ground and missing bus-stops were normal ‘rites of passage’.
“In most cases, you would miss your bus-stop and trek back, no matter the distance. So, you had to learn how to jump down from molue, or else you would find yourself rolling on the ground; sometimes with injuries.”
This practice, Saturday PUNCH learnt, was entrenched by the fact that the drivers were usually impatient and would not stop completely when picking and discharging passengers at bus stops and randomly along the road.
How I met my wife in molue— 85-year-old retiree
Despite the shenanigans that happened on the bus, it also provided opportunities for some to find love.
An 85-year-old retired civil servant and water consultant, Mr Olusola Adubifa, in an earlier interview with Saturday PUNCH, had said that he met his wife in a molue.
He said, “It is a very interesting one. I was travelling from Lagos to Ibadan. I went to collect my luggage from the airport. I boarded a molue. I was seated in front and I heard a voice from behind that said, ‘You people are a nuisance.’ I had to look back to see who was talking and she asked me if there was space beside me.
“Although there was no space, I told her that there was a space and she managed beside me. I tried to start a conversation, and as we chatted, I discovered that she knew those I knew.
“When it was time to pay the fare, she wanted to pay her fare and begged me not to pay, but a man, who was listening to our conversation, pleaded with her to allow me pay. That was how I paid her fare, not knowing that I just paid my wife’s transport fare.
“I got her address. I usually rode bicycle to see her at the University of Ibadan where she was studying Medicine. There were no phones then but we made good use of what we had.”
Molue’s death warrant
A former Governor of Lagos State, Babatunde Fashola, in a bid to address several pressing urban challenges, particularly related to transportation and urban planning, signed the order banning molue from roads in the state.
Fashola’s government aimed to “modernise Lagos public transport system, reduce traffic congestion, and improve road safety”. The molue buses, with their outdated and unsafe condition, were seen as a major factor contributing to accidents and inefficiencies.
By removing them from the roads, Fashola hoped to encourage the adoption of more modern, safer and regulated forms of transportation, such as the Bus Rapid Transit system, which was part of his vision to improve the state’s infrastructure.
The Fashola’s administration was also said to have banned the vehicles to promote environmental sustainability. Molue buses, many of which were old and poorly maintained, contributed significantly to air pollution, as they emitted high levels of carbon dioxide and other pollutants.
In 2012, the Lagos State Government barred molue buses from operating on Lagos Island, especially, on any of the link bridges including the Third Mainland, Eko, and Carter, as well as plying the Lagos Central Business District.
Other prohibited routes were Iddo, Ebute Ero, Apongbon, Obalende, Idumotae, and CMS, among others.
Gradually, the vehicles have practically been phased out with only a few remaining on the road.
According to the government’s directives, the move was part of government’s efforts at ensuring adequate monitoring of commercial vehicles operations, and compliance with traffic rules and regulations.
The then General Manager of Lagos State Traffic Management Authority, Babatunde Edu, disclosed this during a stakeholders’ meeting with the branch chairmen of the Lagos Urban Bus Owners Association of Nigeria— the operators of molue buses in the state.
While the LASTMA chairman appealed for the cooperation and support of all the stakeholders, the association’s leader, Taofeek Adesina, commended the government for its effort at restoring sanity and order in the state and pledged the readiness of his members to support the new cause.