I stopped the taxi and entered for a four minutes drive to my office. The plus sized man whose flesh has been compacted with some weight lifting was driving. I was the only passenger and I was seated in front.

Just about an inch drive, we drove pass a girl whom I guess was coming from a salon. Her hair was freshly coiled.

"Cynthia " the driver called out. The girl didn't stop, she kept moving.

" This girl na rough girl, na club girl be that "this driver said. He was now talking to me as we kept on motion.

I usually don't have much to say in this kind of discussions because he would have promised the girl on the days they met each other how she can count on him and be rest assured no other ear would hear of their adventures. But I was the wrongest person to be told that. Or maybe the right person with an appropriate answer.

"Any club dey this side?" The driver asked me. I was focused and not affirming any of his earlier narratives with a nod or eye contact. But this question must be answered.

"There are churches around this area and I believe they have weekly services and might hold all-night prayer sessions some days in the week.

Guess his response and reaction.

My message have been passed and he wouldn't need another response to shut his mouth and stop those ugly tales about someone else's life.

There are many ways to evangelise.