04/10/2026
😂 I SAW MYSELF IN A DANFO
EPISODE 10: THE LAST RIDE
The yellow danfo waited at the end of the dark alley.
Its engine was running.
Its headlights were on.
And inside sat a man who looked exactly like Damilare.
Damilare couldn't move.
His twin stood beside him.
The driver whispered:
“Don't enter that bus.”
The conductor leaned out.
“Damilare!”
Damilare stared at him.
“How do you know my name?”
The conductor smiled.
“I've known you since you were three.”
Damilare's heart began pounding.
He looked at his twin.
His twin shook his head.
“It's a trap.”
Then the man sitting inside the bus stood up.
He stepped toward the door.
Damilare's eyes widened.
It was him.
Same face.
Same height.
Same scar.
Same everything.
The man stepped down from the bus.
Damilare stared at him.
“Who are you?”
The man smiled.
“Your memory.”
Damilare frowned.
“My what?”
The man pointed at the bus.
“Come inside.”
“No.”
“You've been running from this bus for twenty years.”
Damilare looked at his twin.
His twin finally sighed.
“Go.”
Damilare turned.
“What?”
“Go inside.”
“Are you mad?”
His twin smiled sadly.
“You've spent twenty years trying to find out what happened. This is the first time you have the chance to see it.”
The driver grabbed Damilare's shoulder.
“Whatever you see inside, don't panic.”
Damilare looked at him.
“Why?”
“Because some of it isn't happening now.”
Damilare slowly entered the danfo.
The door slammed shut.
The engine grew louder.
Then everything went black.
---
Damilare opened his eyes.
He was sitting in the back seat.
But the bus looked different.
Newer.
Cleaner.
And much smaller.
He looked around.
There were two little boys sitting beside him.
One wore a red shirt.
The other wore blue.
Damilare's heart stopped.
He knew them.
They were himself and his twin.
Three years old.
Then he heard a man's voice.
“Stay here.”
Damilare turned.
Uncle was driving.
His father was sitting beside him.
And his mother was nowhere to be seen.
Damilare suddenly understood.
“This is the accident.”
The scene continued like a movie.
His father was arguing with Uncle.
“You promised me you wouldn't take them.”
Uncle shouted:
“You ruined everything!”
The vehicle swerved.
The children screamed.
A truck appeared.
Then...
CRASH!
Damilare covered his eyes.
When he opened them, he saw himself lying unconscious.
His twin was crying.
Their father was trapped in the front.
Uncle climbed out.
He looked at the children.
Then walked toward Damilare.
He picked him up.
Damilare shouted:
“Don't!”
But nobody could hear him.
Uncle carried the unconscious child away.
His twin remained inside the wreckage.
Then another man appeared.
Their father.
Despite his injuries, he crawled toward his remaining son.
He held him.
“Lamidi…”
The little boy cried.
“Daddy!”
Damilare began crying.
Now he understood.
His twin had stayed.
He had been taken.
And their father had believed Damilare was dead.
But then the scene changed.
Damilare saw a strange man carrying him away from the crash.
The man looked at him.
“Your name isn't Damilare anymore.”
The screen went black.
---
Damilare opened his eyes inside the danfo.
He was sweating.
The other man was sitting opposite him.
“You remember now.”
Damilare stared at him.
“You're not real.”
The man smiled.
“No.”
He pointed at Damilare's head.
“I'm the memory you buried.”
Suddenly, Damilare understood.
The man wasn't another twin.
He wasn't a ghost.
He wasn't another version of himself.
He was the image his damaged memory had created to lead him back to the truth.
Every time Damilare saw himself in a danfo, his mind was replaying the same moment.
The bus.
The accident.
The missing years.
The identity he had forgotten.
Damilare whispered:
“So I've been chasing myself.”
The man smiled.
“You've been trying to remember yourself.”
The danfo door opened.
Damilare stepped outside.
His twin was waiting.
The driver was beside him.
And behind them stood their mother.
Damilare froze.
“Mummy?”
She ran toward him.
She held him tightly.
“My son.”
Damilare cried.
“Mummy…”
She kept apologizing.
“I thought you were dead.”
“I know.”
“I searched everywhere.”
“I know.”
She touched his face.
“I never stopped looking for you.”
Damilare looked at his twin.
His brother smiled.
“I told you she'd remember you.”
Damilare laughed through his tears.
“So all these years, you knew who I was?”
His brother nodded.
“I knew.”
“Then why didn't you tell me?”
“Because every time we tried, you forgot again.”
The driver smiled.
“That's why we kept putting you on that danfo.”
Damilare looked at him.
“Wait.”
He frowned.
“You people deliberately put me inside danfos?”
The driver shrugged.
“How else were we supposed to make you remember?”
Damilare stared at him.
“You could have called me!”
The driver laughed.
“We did.”
“Then why use danfo?”
His twin grinned.
“Because you never answer unknown numbers.”
Damilare looked offended.
“That is true.”
Everyone laughed.
For the first time in twenty years, the family laughed together.
Then Damilare suddenly remembered something.
“Uncle.”
The laughter stopped.
The driver nodded.
“We found him.”
“Where?”
His twin pointed toward the road.
Police vehicles were approaching.
Uncle had been arrested.
The evidence from the old photograph, the recordings, and the driver's testimony had finally exposed what happened twenty years earlier.
Damilare looked at his family.
The mystery was finally over.
But there was one thing he still wanted to know.
He turned toward his twin.
“So…”
His brother looked at him.
“What's your real name?”
His brother laughed.
“Lamidi.”
Damilare smiled.
“So you are the original Lamidi.”
“Exactly.”
Damilare shook his head.
“Then all this time…”
Lamidi nodded.
“You were Damilare.”
Damilare looked at the yellow danfo.
The same type of bus that had haunted his dreams.
He walked toward it.
Then stopped.
He looked at the conductor.
“How much?”
The conductor smiled.
“For you?”
He shook his head.
“Today is free.”
Damilare laughed.
“Why?”
The conductor pointed at him.
“Because after twenty years, you've finally paid your transport fare.”
Everybody burst out laughing.
Damilare entered the bus one last time.
This time, he wasn't afraid.
He sat by the window.
He looked outside.
His mother.
His brother.
The driver.
All waving at him.
The bus began moving.
Damilare smiled.
For twenty years, he had been searching for himself.
And finally...
He had found him.
THE END. ❤️
