Uwem Akpan short story in the New Yorker

Its set in 1999, seems to be autobiographical and is about traffic. Here.

The first time I went to Lagos was around the same time. We went round in buses and taxis. Only once or twice did we travel in the car of a friend or relative. I remember the trick at the time was for Area Boys to stop you and shout that your engine was sparking. As soon as the bonnet was up, hands would move quick as a flash, pulling engine-killing cables with nimble fingers, then offering mechanic services.. I guess things are just a bit better than back then, right?