It was a hot and sticky Friday afternoon, and I was already late for work. I’d missed the first bus, so I decided to take a trotro to work. If you’re not familiar with trotros, let me break it down for you. A trotro is a minibus that you squeeze into like a can of sardines. It’s loud, crowded, and the driver might think he’s in a race even when there’s traffic. But the most interesting thing about a trotro ride? The drama. Oh, and I wasn’t ready for the kind of drama that was coming.
So, there I was, squeezing myself into the minibus like a bag of rice, already drenched in sweat. The driver was already honking at other cars and shouting at pedestrians. Typical. I found my seat next to a woman who seemed like she had no time for anything. She was holding her phone and scrolling through Instagram, looking all serious. But that wasn’t the weird part. The weird part? The smell.
Now, you know that feeling when you walk into a room, and it smells like something is burning? Well, this was a different kind of smell. It wasn’t burning, but it was... strong. Like someone had cooked beans and left them in the sun for two days. I sniffed the air, trying not to be obvious about it.
The bus moved forward, and the smell didn’t go away. In fact, it seemed to get stronger. I was about to open my mouth and ask the woman sitting next to me if she could smell it too when someone let out a sound.
You know that sound. The one that makes everyone look around like, “Did that really just happen?”
“Prrrrrtttt!”
Everyone in the trotro turned to look at each other. The woman beside me was already holding her nose. A man sitting near the front was eyeing the back. A lady with a baby was covering her child’s nose with her scarf. We all knew what had just happened: someone had farted.
But here’s the thing—no one wanted to admit it. It was one of those “who’s going to be brave enough to confess?” situations. You could feel the tension in the air like a storm was coming. The trotro was now a battle zone.
The man sitting at the back, who had been minding his own business, suddenly stood up and shouted, “Who just farted in this car?”
The woman next to me dropped her phone, and the whole trotro went silent. It was like time had stopped. We were all waiting for someone to say something. No one did.
Then the man, clearly irritated, looked around and said again, “Who did it? Who farted?”
The woman next to me whispered to her neighbor, “I told you, it smells like beans!” 😷
The neighbor nodded and whispered back, “It’s not beans, it’s something worse.”
That’s when it happened. The man who had been sitting quietly in the front, near the driver, turned around and pointed straight at the guy sitting next to the window.
“You! You farted!” he accused.
The man sitting by the window gasped. “What?! Me?! I didn’t fart! I didn’t even eat beans!” 🍛
The first guy didn’t back down. “You’re the one making the car smell like rotten eggs! Admit it!”
Now, this was turning into a trotro courtroom drama. People were whispering, pointing fingers, and everyone was trying to figure out who the culprit was. Some people were clearly trying to avoid eye contact, while others had their noses up, pretending to be unaffected.
But the most interesting part? The woman next to me—remember her?—she suddenly stood up and said, “Excuse me! If anyone is going to accuse someone, at least make sure your accusations are correct.”
Everyone turned to look at her. She was now standing with her arms crossed and glaring at the man accusing the window guy.
“What do you mean?” the man asked, clearly confused.
She rolled her eyes and said, “It’s simple. If you fart, the smell stays on you. If the smell doesn’t stick to you, you’re innocent.” 🤷🏽♀️
The trotro was now in full chaos mode. People were shouting, others were laughing, and the driver, who was clearly enjoying the show, honked his horn even harder as if trying to add to the drama.
Then the woman sitting by the door—who had been completely quiet up until now—stood up and said, “I know who farted.”
Everyone turned to her like she was the oracle of truth.
She pointed at the man sitting in the back. “It was him. I saw his face twitch right before the sound happened.” 👀
The man in the back, now red in the face, shook his head. “Are you crazy?! I didn’t fart!”
The woman wasn’t done, though. “You’re the one who looked guilty when it happened. You looked around like you were trying to figure out who heard it.”
The driver, now fully invested in the drama, stopped the trotro in the middle of the road, threw his hands up in the air, and said, “I’m not moving until someone admits it. I’ll be here all day.”
It was at that moment that the guy who had been sitting quietly in the corner—let’s call him Mr. Quiet—finally spoke up. He had been holding it in for this long, but now he couldn’t take it anymore.
“Listen, people. This is ridiculous!” he shouted. “It’s just a fart. Why are we all making it into a bigger deal than it really is?”
The whole trotro went silent. I swear, if you could hear crickets, this was the moment.
Mr. Quiet continued, “Sometimes, a fart is just a fart. You don’t need to fight over it. We all have our moments. So, I suggest we just let it go, and we can all get to our destinations peacefully.”
For a split second, there was complete silence. I think even the smell faded for a moment. But then, as if someone had pressed the play button again, the whole trotro burst into laughter. Even the driver started cracking up.
But just as we thought the drama was over, the man who had been accused of farting by the window raised his hand sheepishly.
“Okay, okay. I did it. It was me,” he said, sounding more embarrassed than guilty.
And just like that, the tension was gone. Everyone burst into laughter, some with relief, others just because the drama had been too much to handle.
“I knew it was you!” shouted the man who had been accusing people all along. “But it’s okay, we forgive you. Let’s just make it to work without any more drama, yeah?”
And with that, the trotro ride continued like nothing had happened. The drama had settled, the accusations had ended, and we were all once again just trying to survive the ride to our destination.
By the time I got off at my stop, I couldn’t help but laugh. In a way, that whole experience was a reminder of something we all forget sometimes: sometimes, life is weird, things happen, and it’s okay to just laugh at it all. Even if it’s about a fart in a trotro. 😂
That’s how we ended up laughing over a fart in the trotro. At the end of the day, we all made it to our stops in one piece, with a bit more humor than when we started.
And that, my friends, is the true power of a fart: it can bring people together… or tear them apart. 😂
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