NKEM 21
The journey drifted past like the trees and hamlets the bus left behind. She was numb to our surroundings. She didn't even share in the occasional jokes the passengers threw at themselves and the drivers to ward off the fear of sudden surprises of armed robbers who may show up unannounced or the fear of accidents. When either the driver or a passenger said something funny, the woman sitting next to her looked into her face expecting her to join in the laughter but she only managed a smile and after which her face returned to its earlier gloom.
Her mind drifted to the beginning of their relationship. She remembered the girls who teased him for the song, the smile that adorned her face and how she was completely sold out to him in love. She lost count of the number of times she was at loggerheads with her mother on account of him. But all was for what? Absolutely nothing! She didn't know when the long hiss escaped her lips and she noticed too that the bus had stopped. She was still sitting in the bus when the woman sitting next to her came back to inform her that the bus had indeed gotten to the stop over and that all passengers must alight. The bus had packed at the left flank of the wide open space with an interlocked floor.
She climbed down from the bus and did a slow walk to the only building housing customers wolfing down different kinds of food. It is a large hall lined with tables and benches. Each table had two benches arranged on either side. There was a space between the roles of tables and benches where customers and service girls moved about.
The smell of frying things, roasted meat, steaming soup and jollof rice wafted from behind the building to the right before you entered the hall. There are many cooks. Some are pounding yam, steering soup, washing rice or turning the same in large pots on large square shaped burners with blue flame. She sneezed at the impact and wiped her mouth with the back of her palm. The customers sat eating, drinking, chatting or nodding their heads to the loud highlife music booming from unseen speakers. Service girls wearing pinafore with pink dresses exposing a good portion of their laps, had trays laden with food resting on outstretched palms raised to the shoulder, mill about tables delivering food or waiting to get orders. She noticed an empty table and aimed for it. All eyes escorted her till she sat down. She heard their whisperings but was too uninterested in whatever they said.
"She seemed strange", a woman said.
"Perhaps, her husband just died", responded the woman sitting beside the one that spoke.
She had not sat for long when a pretty service girl in her teens came towards her. She flashed Gladys a smile that could melt the heart of the devil. Gladys returned the smile.
"What would you like to have?", she said, fetching a little pad and a pen from her apron's pocket. Gladys wasn't feeling like eating anything but instead ordered for water. The girl gave her a quizzical look.
"The journey is still very long, you know. You should eat something", she advised.
"I don't feel like eating anything", Gladys said with a slow sigh.
"Our food is not expensive, you know. They're pocket friendly", she pursued studying Gladys as if she didn't want to eat because she had little or no money on her.
Gladys smiled and finally decided to order a plate of ofada rice which she saw a man unwrapping from leaves into the plates before him.
The girl smiled broadly, disappeared and returned minutes later with her request. One plate had two wraps of the rice and the other contained a thick reddish stew with fish. She unwrapped the rice, scoop some stew on it and just stared at it undecided whether to eat it or not.
She delicately took a small amount of it to her mouth. She is always wary of eating food prepared by others. She tasted it, nodded to herself and munched it quietly. One spoon went after the other. It was then she realized she was really hungry. She was finally engrossed in the meal, enjoying every spoonful she took.
"Hi, beautiful", a male voice cooed with a fake American accent. May I share this moment with you?". He sat himself opposite her without permission.
"Its beautiful scenery out here. Dunno this country is this beautiful". He seemed to suddenly remember something. He slapped his lap and stretched his hand.
"My bad. My name is Joe".
Gladys looked disinterestedly from the outstretched hand to the face of its owner. He is short and dark in complexion. He had a small head covered with artificial dreadlocks and earrings in both ears. His lips are thin and blackened; evidence of chain smoking. A huge scar ran from below his left eye to inches before his mouth giving him a scary look of someone that life had dealt a hard blow but is doing everything to camouflage it.
He withdrew his hand with embarrassment written on his face. He studied Gladys' expressionless face, deciding whether she is worth the trouble or not.
"You are not even better than my girls. You should respond when a man talks nicely to you ", he said fiddling with the bottle of star lager beer he dragged into his mouth every now and again.
She gave him a contemptuous look. A look that told him he was like an uninvited flea hovering around palm wine.
A frown appeared on his face doing more damage to his already demented face. Gladys said nothing but ate quietly. When she finished her meal, she paid her bill and gave a generous tip to the girl that served her. She stood up to go but as an afterthought, turned back to him. By now, he was ogling her yet with raw disdain in his eyes.
"I don't talk to empty proud things".
She saw the edges of his mouth foam as he mouthed obscenity at her departing figure.
She rode gloriously into the bus. She became a momentary sensation as every eye gave her a resounding attention as if she was a new wonder to the world. They wondered what she said to Joe who is a regular face in the Golden Star food canteen as it is popularly called. The said Joe, it seemed wanted to vent all the venom in his tongue on Gladys who had long left the scene.
"Who do you think you are, you bloody bitch?" he blanched. By now, his English had lost its American accent. He rose from the bench and faced the way Gladys had followed.
"Do you know how many girls I have dated and taken to different countries of the world? He boasted. He began ticking the countries he had been with his fingers. He sat down, dragged the bottle to his lips, took a sip and rose up again.
"I don't blame you. You good-for-nothing village girl. What do you know about city life? I don't blame you at all. I blame those stupid cop who would not let me be!"
He sucked his teeth and spat nothing angrily out of his mouth. The focus had now shifted to him. Those who missed what had happened wondered who could have offended Joe.
Thank always for taking the time to read each new chapter. Let's do this next time. I am Yours Truly,
Julius Topohozin.
