I’m treated like a queen in Kaduna – Keke NAPEP rider

She is queen of the road. Some days, Harriet Nzekwe is seen riding around Kaduna city wearing a sleeveless blouse, with passengers behind her, other days, it’s the fact she is shoeless and drives confidently that catches a number of eyes. But she is not the driver of a conventional cabby; neither is she manipulating […]

She is queen of the road. Some days, Harriet Nzekwe is seen riding around Kaduna city wearing a sleeveless blouse, with passengers behind her, other days, it’s the fact she is shoeless and drives confidently that catches a number of eyes. But she is not the driver of a conventional cabby; neither is she manipulating a truck, which usually makes men and even women, watch with interest. Hers is a Keke NAPEP, the three-wheeled means of transportation called rickshaw, known to be almost tradition in Asia decades ago, but now has become common in Nigeria.
She hails from Asane in Obaru local government area of Anambra State and has a Higher National Diploma in Business Administration from the Federal Polytechnic, Oko – this is what makes Nzekwe an intriguing person to encounter. She comes from a people arguably tagged ‘the most enterprising’ in Nigeria. But she takes this further by dumping her certificate for a job some may conclude is mainly for the uneducated, and usually male.     
Falling in love comes all of a sudden for some, for others, it is a slow process. The latter is the case for the unabashed Nzekwe, whose object of adoration is the Keke NAPEP. Her love story began in Kaduna where she did her National Youth Service Corps (NYSC). Passing out, she got a job with a bank, which ended badly and she found herself looking for another.
Her first gambit at being a driver at all was in 2013 when the luxurious bus Subsidy Reinvestment Programme (SURE-P) was flagged off by the presidency at the International Women Centre Abuja. “I said to myself, instead of going around with my certificate, the best thing for me is to get one of the buses so I can drive it and earn a living,” she recalls, adding that the bid to get one of the several buses given out failed.
But coming back to Kaduna, Nzekwe realised getting a Keke NAPEP might be a surer bet where she was: “It took over a year for me to get one and this was after I proved to John Marshall, the number one Keke NAPEP dealer in the city that I was a graduate passionate about making a living for myself. He gave the Keke to me and I was able to pay in an agreed sum of money every day until my debt was paid in full.”
The attention Nzekwe got when she began riding around town was something she may never forget: “People were so happy with what I was doing. They even changed my name to ‘Goodluck Jonathan,’ called me  ‘Kaduna First Lady’ and said they loved my courage, what a man can do a woman can do better and so on. But I don’t agree with that saying. Just because I’m riding Keke, which is a peculiar job for a female in the North, does not mean I am doing what a man can’t do. God made the man the head of the family.”
Many ladies moved by her determination have approached her for lessons on how to drive the Keke, Nzekwe says: “But I can’t teach them with mine because I’m still paying for it. However, I keep their contacts so I can help them in the future.” Her experience learning was not an easy one. She had to pay three people to teach her and her drive was what took her through. Presently, she makes between N3, 000 to N4, 000 a day ferries passengers around the city; and her days are filled with interesting scenarios as men and women scramble to board her vehicle.
Nzekwe’s routes around Kaduna include Romi, Tudun Wada, Rigachikun, Angwan Sanusi, BakinDogo, Tudun Nupawa, Kamazo, Mararaban Rido, Barnawa, Sabo, Kawo and many others. She narrates her experience in a place like Tudun Wada: “The first time I carried passengers to Tudun Wada, they were four Muslim women. As I got to their destination, if you see what these Hausa boys did to me. They formed an entourage for me and escorted me out of the area and even discharged the person loading before me, put the passengers in my Keke and asked me to go. That is the tradition in every unit I go to – they do not put me in the queue waiting for passengers, rather, they give me passengers right away and ask me to go.” This too is her experience when she queues for fuel.
This Keke driver’s working hours are flexible and at times run till midnight. She stresses she hardly faces any real challenge, aside the scorching northern sun – but this was when she was new to the job – and fuel scarcity. Her target is to pay for her Keke as soon as she can. “The people collecting revenue from Keke riders used to harass me, but by the time I explained things to them and how I was struggling to pay for the Keke, they stopped disturbing me,” she reveals.
Another intriguing aspect of Nzekwe’s work is the reaction she gets from male passengers. They pet her and offer to clear the road whenever there is a gridlock so she can pass with ease: “The Kaduna populace, both Muslims and Christians, make me addicted to riding Keke, so much I feel sick when I don’t work in a day. They are making me fall in love with the work. I even have to answer questions from people on why I didn’t ride on a particular day.”
Nzekwe has these words of advice foryoung ladies, especially graduates: “Start from somewhere. Even if you do not have the money, God will bring somebody that will help you, people will be touched and impressed with what you are doing and they will help you and before you know it, the sky is your limit.”
And she backs her words with action. “I have already started speaking with companies like Peugeot Automobile Nigeria (PAN) to train some women as mechanics,  Keke NAPEP mechanics and repairers of other types of vehicles and they have assured me that as soon as I get what I need, they are willing to assist me empower women,” Nzekwe says.