A JOURNEY ON PUBLIC TRUST: WHEN A BUS BECOMES A PRAYER.
The Governor brought in new buses for travellers moving across the State, and today, I was not a spectator – I was a beneficiary of this quiet but powerful social service.
My friend and I had an appointment with a personality who keeps strictly to time. We trusted our car, started it with confidence – and it disappointed us. My friend stepped out, examined the engine, and discovered the matter was deeper than we imagined. Wisdom spoke quickly. Two and Two met, and without argument, we turned our feet toward an alternative already prepared for the people: Governor Otti’s Green Shuttle Bus.
With urgency pressing on our heels, we hurried toward the busy heart of Aba. Through the assistance of ordinary people – those informal guides of Nigerian survival – We located the loading bay in front of Crunchies Fast Food. We rushed in, secured good seats, and before anxiety could complete its sentence, the Green Shuttle Bus filled up within five minutes.
We left Aba happily. The bus was full of life – alive with that familiar Nigerian travelling spirit: greetings crossing aisles, laughter negotiating space, strangers becoming momentary kin. From bus stop to bus stop, passengers boarded while others alighted. And with every descent, voices rose in gratitude, thanking the Governor for counting Abians worthy to travel across the State in an Air-Conditioned Green Shuttle Bus – clean, modest, and dignifying.
This was not luxury; it was restoration. The driver himself looked unlike the usual image etched into our roads. He appeared more like one navigating the calm streets of Ghent, St. Peter’s, or Waregem in Belgium – neat, composed, professional. His presence alone preached order. Inside the bus, praise flowed freely.
We spoke of the Governor’s courage, his refusal to surrender conviction by joining the comfort of the ruling party. Applause followed. Songs followed. Thanksgiving followed. The bus became a moving sanctuary.
Civil servants travelling with us took turns educating passengers – not with arrogance, but with pride – explaining the policy, the intention, the soul behind the service. Along the expressway, we did not just travel distance; we travelled meaning. What moved us forward was not merely environmentally friendly Electric Bus, but purpose.
We were deep in songs of freedom when the bus rolled into Umuahia main town. I gazed out through the window, reflective. My friend, suddenly uneasy, approached the driver and said, “We have not paid.” The driver looked at us and smiled – like a man who understood grace. “The government paid.”
My friend, astonished, asked, “Who is the government that paid for us?” The neatly dressed young man answered plainly, “Governor Otti.” In that moment, revelation arrived. We understood the gratitude of those who had alighted earlier. We understood the clapping, the songs, the prayers whispered and spoken aloud. We looked at each other in silence.
The forgotten people of Abia have encountered compassion, wearing authority. Otti has altered the emotional weather of the masses; his touch has reached almost every human endeavour. Beside us, a young passenger rushed into the bus. He noticed our stunned expressions and smiled with the calm certainty of one who has seen light break through clouds.
“Abians have seen it,” he said softly. “Leadership is now domiciled in their midst.” The Bus entered the New Terminal still under construction – a prophetic structure, unfinished yet promising. My friend Amadi and I stepped down and ran back into a bleeding Abia – Abia without light, Abia without functional public schools, classrooms without teachers, Abia without good roads leading to her localities.
Yet, even as the wounds remained visible, hope has found a voice. This journey revealed a truth older than politics: when leadership is compassionate, governance becomes ministry; when power serves, it becomes prayer. God, in His mysterious economy, has sent His creation to restore dignity and return glory to Abia – God’s own State.
From the Pen of the Conscience Writer
-James Agbagha Ochunkwo-
