Before You Judge Her, Count Again :How a Bus Ride in Benin Exposed Everyday Misogyny

Was heading out to Ring Road with my mum yesterday... I wanted to get flaxseed. She wanted to repair her phone. POV: we both ended up buying foodstuff at the end of the day. 😂 But this story draws from our way to the market... In the bus, each ROLL had to pay their fare directly to the bus driver. For those who haven’t been to Benin City, passengers on each ROLL (usually four people, ₦300 per person) must pay the driver themselves. The ladies on the second ROLL paid ₦900. The bus driver insisted the payment wasn’t complete.

Before You Judge Her, Count Again :How a Bus Ride in Benin Exposed Everyday Misogyny

“OGA, the money complete,” said the woman by the window seat. But the bus driver, clearly furious, shouted, “Women of these days just dey find how to dupe person!” Then, the only man sitting in the first ROLL chimed in. “Na why I no like women be this. Instead of them to admit mistake, dem go dey claim say dem sabi too much 🙄. Madam, you nor know math... na ₦1,200 this money suppose be, you pay ₦900 talk say e complete... To do business with women self—very low mentality.”

Before You Judge Her, Count Again :How a Bus Ride in Benin Exposed Everyday Misogyny

The women on the second seat tried explaining why their payment was ₦900 and not ₦1,200. The driver cut them off. “Shut up or get down from my motor! Na so your husband go dey talk, you go dey disrespect am!” The man from the first ROLL joined in again, “Nor mind them. Dem just dey display their bad character. Madam, if man dey explain something to you, you nor suppose talk back—just say OHK SIR and do wetin he talk!” By now, the rest of us nonchalant passengers had all looked up and were paying attention.

Before You Judge Her, Count Again :How a Bus Ride in Benin Exposed Everyday Misogyny

IT TURNED OUT that the woman by the window had actually paid for two seats, and someone who knew her had earlier paid half of her fare directly to the driver—before the bus was filled. Since the first ROLL was the last to be filled, none of them knew about the earlier payment. The driver, clearly caught up in his own anger, had forgotten. It wasn’t until the woman calmly reminded him during his angry silence that he recalled the payment. So: ₦300 (paid earlier) + ₦900 (paid by the women in the second ROLL) = ₦1,200. The money was COMPLETE. The driver later apologized, admitting he forgot that someone had already paid on her behalf. He accepted the ₦900 and moved on.

Before You Judge Her, Count Again :How a Bus Ride in Benin Exposed Everyday Misogyny

Now, to the man on the first ROLL—what should have been done to him? After the driver realized his mistake and apologized, this man who had confidently insulted the women, who loudly backed the driver with sweeping generalizations and casual misogyny, just sat there in silence. No apology. No acknowledgment. He suddenly became a ghost—like he was never part of the exchange. Not a word. And that’s the problem. When it was time to shame and blame women, he had volume. But when it was time to own his error or apologize? Silence. Because accountability, apparently, is too heavy for some egos to carry.

Before You Judge Her, Count Again :How a Bus Ride in Benin Exposed Everyday Misogyny

That kind of behavior is not just disrespectful—it’s dangerous. It reinforces the idea that women should remain quiet, even when they’re right, and that men can weaponize their voice without consequence. He may have gone quiet, but we all heard him—and we won’t forget 🤬🤬🤬 Anyways about to run a little experiment on myself!!! Chia vs. Flaxseed: I Will be trying Both So You Don’t Have To ❤️❤️🫶