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Lost Opportunity!

Tolu opened the door to her boss’ office and walked back to her desk. She began to pack up her things and put them in a box. She was surprised by her boss’ reaction to her resignation.

It had become a sing song that he was doing her a favour during her appraisals. He always told her that she deserved a below average but refused to score her that because he did not want to get her sacked.

“Before you will go and tell the whole world that I was the one that made them sack you.” He would always say during each appraisal process.

Tolu got tired of hearing the same thing every six months when her appraisals were due. The constant reminder of her inability to meet her job expectations affected her morale.

 

On her way home a year ago, she bumped into the car of one of her course mates from the University. She had been lost in thought and did not notice that he had stepped on his brakes. When she realized what had happened, Tolu covered her face with her hands and burst into tears. She had just gone through another round of appraisals and each time felt worse than the former.

“Hello!!!! Will you at least come out of the car?” Tunde said as he stood by her side.

“I’m so sorry. Please, it wasn’t intentional. I’m really sorry.” Tolu said as she sobbed.

Tunde gaped at her; his mouth open in surprise. “Tolu!”

She looked at him carefully; shock and embarrassment registered on her face.

“Let us clear off the road so we don’t obstruct traffic. Just park over there.” Tunde pointed to the kerb.

Tolu simply nodded.

When they were both off the road and parked at the kerb, Tunde strolled towards Tolu’s car and sat in the passenger seat.

“What is wrong?”

“I am okay now.” Tolu replied. Even though, they had both graduated with a first class from the University of Ibadan, she could not really call Tunde her friend. He was just a course mate.

“I understand if you want to be alone. I just feel maybe if you shared your problem, we could discuss it and maybe find a solution together.” Tunde shrugged.

Tolu took a deep breath and sighed.

“It’s fine.” Tunde said as he opened the door to let himself out.

“Tunde….I’m really sorry about your car.”

“I have comprehensive insurance.”

“I….I….I am having issues at work.”

Tunde sat back and closed the door. “What kind of issues?”

Tolu told him about the appraisals she had earlier on in the day and her previous appraisals. They discussed at length about her job and Tunde encouraged her to apply to his organization. He worked in a rival company and there was currently a vacancy for the same role she held. He told her maybe what she needed was a job change to prove if she was actually doing that bad.

********

As Tolu boxed what was left of her drawers, she remembered her interview with Orange Financial Services. The interviewers had been surprised when she did a short presentation of the issues bedeviling the financial services industry and how the issues could be resolved.

Tolu had been careful to present only two points whereas she had done an extensive research and had a ten-point agenda.

Orange Financial Services wasted no time in making her an offer. She was offered three times what she was currently earning and was asked to resume immediately. They told her they were willing to pay off her organization her one month’s salary in lieu of notice.

********

The door behind her opened and her boss walked out of his office. “Please reconsider my offer, Tolu. I have discussed with HR and we will match what Orange is willing to pay you.”

Tolu smiled. “No, Thank you sir. It is time for me to move on. Like I said earlier, it has been five years working with you and I’m grateful for the opportunity you gave me.”

********
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Stolen Innocence

“I say who give you belle.” Mama Ngozi shouted as she inched closer to her daughter.

“I…I….” Ngozi stammered.

“You wetin.” She shouted as a resounding slap landed on her daughter’s cheek.

Ngozi looked at her step-dad. Hot tears dropped on her cheeks as she saw the look in his eyes.

“You no fit talk? I say who give you belle?” Mama Ngozi shouted as she pummeled her daughter who was now crouching.

Emeka stood back watching. “E don do.” He said quietly. “I say e don do.” He said raising his voice.

Mama Ngozi turned to look at him with blazing eyes. “Wetin do? Ehn, I say wetin do?” She ignored her daughter for a brief moment.

“No kill am nau!”

“I go kill am if she no tell me the person wey give her belle.”

As Mama Ngozi charged towards her daughter again, Ngozi opened the screen door and ran out of the house in tears.

It was 9.00 pm but she was not bothered. She continued running until she was confident she was far away from her mother’s house.

She walked to the bus park and sat down on a bench. She had three thousand naira with her. The money she had been given to take out the unwanted baby.

She bought a bus ticket and sat in the bus. The tears came again.

Only one person came to mind right now.

Tomorrow morning, she would be embraced by her paternal grandmother.

She would relay the events of the past six months.

She would describe how her innocence was taken away at the age of fifteen.

She would tell her grandmother how she became an object of satisfaction.

She would mention how she cried every night because her heart and her body hurt.

She would explain how hatred burned in her heart and how she had thoughts of killing him each night with the kitchen knife; while he snored loudly beside her mother after visiting her room.

——-

Photo Credit: https://www.belfasttelegraph.co.uk

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A hair’s breadth

Emeka woke up with a start. He pulled the blinds in his room apart and looked outside. The day was bright. He cursed under his breath as he sat up. He picked up his phone which lay on the headboard and looked at it. The time read 6.45a.m. He hissed. It was too late to try rushing to meet up. Even if he could fly to the airport right now, he would not make it. He thought about the amount he had to pay for a no-show and he hissed again. He stood up from his bed and cursed.

He remembered setting his phone alarm to 5.00a.m last night. His luggage was already packed and he had put it beside the door. He could not fathom how sleep had decided to play a fast one on him.

He walked to the bathroom. As he plastered toothpaste on his brush, he picked up the remote control on the bathroom shelf and switched on the TV in the living room. A newscaster was reading the news and Emeka noticed “Breaking news” in caps scrolling behind her. He increased the volume of the TV as he continued to brush.

“…… the Enugu bound plane carrying about 93 passengers crashed a few minutes after take off and…..” Emeka spat out the paste in his mouth as he moved closer to the TV with his brush in his hand. His vision blurred and the images on the TV danced before him. He felt something wet on his left foot and he looked down and realized his mouth had been agape. He ignored the paste on his foot and put his two hands on his head.

“Oh God, oh God, oh God!” He cried out.

Image result for near death images man shutterstock

——
Photo Credit: https://www.sciencealert.com

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Identity Disaster

Mr. Olaiya’s jaw dropped as he looked at the lady standing before him. She was dressed in a skimpy dress that barely covered her thighs. The man holding her by the waist was wearing a white jalabia and the expression on his face was irritation.

“Moriamo, you deny me your father?”

Chief looked at Stella and also at the strange man. “Mr. man, she say she no know you. What is your problem? You are constituting a nuisance and I fit call the police.”

“Ah! Moriamo, èmi bàbá ë. Ayé mi!”
“Moriamo, I am your father.” The man exclaimed.

“Chief, let’s go. I don’t know this man and he is embarrassing me.” Stella said.

“Ah! Ah! Sèbí, mo sín gbéré sí ë láyà ní ìkókó. Jë ki n ri?
“I made an incision on your chest as a baby. Let me see it.”

“What is he saying?” Chief asked as he looked at Stella.

“I don’t know Chief. I don’t understand what he is saying. Please, let’s go.” Stella said as she pulled Chief away from the scene. The strange man was beginning to garner a few stares.

Chief and Stella left Mr. Olaiya whose hand was on his head in lamentation.

********

The next day, Chief and Stella flew back into Nigeria. Stella convinced Chief that she wanted to cut short her vacation as her encounter with the strange man had made her homesick. She wanted to go home to see her mother and also visit her dead father’s grave; she told him.

Immediately they arrived into the country, Stella took a cab to see her mother in Akute. As the cab took her to her destination, she kept thinking about the encounter she had in the United States. She shook her head to dispel her thoughts as she approached her house.

Stella eased out of the cab, paid the driver and took out her hand luggage from the boot. A woman stood outside an unpainted bungalow throwing corn grains at some chickens. She stopped when she saw Stella walking towards her.

“Ëkáàsán màámi.”
“Good afternoon my mother.” Stella said as she knelt down.

“Moriamo, ökö mi. Káàbò.”
“Welcome, my husband.”

“Báwo ni ilé-ìwé?”
“How is school?”

“Adúpé mà.”
“Thank God.”

“Bàámi nkó?”
“What about my father?”

“Jë ka wö inú ilé náá, ògiri l’étí.”
“Let us go inside. The walls have ears.”

Moriamo dragged her hand luggage into the small living room and put it by the side. As she sat down on the single couch, she looked eagerly at her mother.

“Bàbá ë ti lö fa gbùrù ní ilú òyinbó.”
“Your father has travelled abroad to hustle.”

Moriamo bent her head as she thought of her encounter with her father. She knew he was her father. A man knew his children but how was she supposed to explain her business in the U.S? How was she supposed to explain that she had told Chief she was bored in school and wanted to go on vacation? She had had no choice but to deny knowing him. He was right that she had been given an incision on her chest as a child. When she kept falling ill, her father had taken her to visit a herbalist who had give her the incision and her bout of sicknesses had ceased immediately.

As she went to bed that night, she decided the United States was no longer a country to visit.

——–

Photo Credit: https://www.collaborativelifecoaching.com

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Stages of Life

Lara saw her best friend on TV and smiled. Yemi was anchoring a game show and she was good at it. Lara remembered how close they were in secondary school. They had been best friends and other students had envied their relationship. A few friends had even tried to come in-between them by telling tales but they had seen beyond the envy and jealousy and stuck together.

Lara went on to study Chemistry at the University of Lagos while Yemi had studied Mass Communication in a University in South Africa. They had tried to keep up their friendship through phone calls and text messages but after a while, Yemi became unreachable. All efforts made by Lara ended fruitlessly and she concluded that Yemi must have changed her number. She had also tried to search for Yemi through Facebook but that had also been unsuccessful.

 

*****

Ten years after graduation from secondary school, Lara watched her friend on TV and was proud of her. Watching her now, she realized the reason why she hadn’t been able to find her on Facebook. Yemi had dropped her first name and was now identified by her second name, Joyce. She did a quick search on Facebook with the new name and found her. She immediately sent her a friend request.

 

A week passed and Lara was yet to get an acceptance from her friend. She decided to send her a message. She was however shocked when she got a rejection to her friend request and a response to her message. The message read; “I have moved on from teenage friendships. Get a life.”

Lara must have read the message a thousand times. She wondered what could have come over her friend. Had she written something that resulted in such a response? She went back to read her message to Yemi again. She had congratulated her friend on the TV programme and told her she was doing a good job. She had also mentioned how she had searched for her for so long; not realizing she had dropped her first name. She had asked her to keep in touch.

As Lara deleted the message, she made a mental note to move on and forget she ever had a friend named Yemi.

—–

Photo Credit: http://www.wikihow.com
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Close shave

Adetutu looked at the clock on her dashboard. It read 9:30p.m. The cars before her slowed down and red tail lights flashed all the way down. She sighed.  She wasn’t expecting traffic on the bridge at this time of the night. She was tired and hungry. What she really longed for right now was to zap into her bed; clothes and all. She was not even sure her mouth could do the job of chewing anything.

She was in this state of lethargy when she noticed strange movements around her. Two young men were walking in between the car lanes; one on her right and another on her far left; two lanes away from her. The one on her right was walking up the bridge while the other moved swiftly in between lanes towards her rear.

Adetutu looked around her and considered it unusual. There were hawkers milling around but these men were not carrying anything to signify that they were hawking. The man on her right went to the car adjacent hers and knocked on the driver’s window. Adetutu’s senses awoke and she immediately tapped her central lock. It was quite dark and she was not sure whether she actually saw a pistol pointed at the driver in the red Toyota Carina ahead or not. The driver’s window was wound down and Adetutu saw a shaky hand with a mobile phone in it. There was a ring with a massive stone on one of the fingers and it glistered in the dark. Adetutu reckoned the driver had to be a woman.

The driver of the Toyota Carina handed over her phone to the man. Adetutu looked to her right. There was a black Toyota Highlander beside her. She saw that a man was behind the wheels. This was happening right in front of him and he wasn’t making any attempt to stop the robbery. Adetutu noticed he was even trying to maneuver his way to the right. She wished she was behind the Toyota Carina because she would have bumped into the car intentionally. She wasn’t sure if the car in front of her was driven by a man or a woman but whoever was behind the wheels was also trying to divert to the left. Was this how everyone was going to leave the lady to her fate? She thought.

The movement of cars trying to save themselves opened up traffic a bit. Adetutu noticed that the lady in the Toyota Carina was about to hand over her handbag to the thief. She slammed on her accelerator and diverted to her right. She hit the Toyota Highlander from the rear and headed straight for the Toyota Carina. The thief saw her too late. Adetutu brushed the Toyota Carina, careful not to cause too much damage before diverting back to the left and speeding off.

She looked in her rear-view mirror and saw the man in the Toyota Highlander getting out of his car. She also noticed that passersby had gathered and were looking at the ground while someone was handing over a handbag back to the woman in the Toyota Carina.

As she sped away, she took a deep breath and hoped she had saved the day.

——
Photo Credit: http://www.ewnews.com

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Pregnant Imaginations

The pregnant lady sitting in the swivel chair at the salon section shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

The manicurist attending to my nails looked at her. “Aunty, you want water?”

“No, thank you.” The lady replied.

“Are you okay?” The manicurist asked; concern written on her face.

The pregnant lady smiled and shifted again; probably trying to find a comfortable position. “Yes, I am fine. Thank you.”

I looked at the pregnant lady and weird ideas for a story just flew into my head. I grinned as my imagination went on overdrive.

I imagined the lady drove to the salon herself.

I imagined this being her first pregnancy and being a little anxious and naive.

I imagined her water breaking while she sat there and going into panic mode immediately.

I imagined me telling her to calm down while I asked for her car keys.

I imagined the whole salon suddenly going abuzz with the salon attendants running helter-skelter wondering what to do and how to help.

I imagined the lady puffing and panting as tears streamed down her cheeks.

I imagined myself driving with crazy speed to the hospital where she was registered (after getting the information from her).

I imagined one of the salon attendants calling her husband through her phone and explaining the situation to him.

I imagined us (myself and one of the salon attendants) waiting patiently in the hospital (after she had been taken into the labour ward) till the arrival of her husband.

I imagined her husband arriving at the hospital with worry lines deeply etched on his forehead.

I imagined her husband calling me hours later that his wife had been delivered of a baby.

I smiled and shook my head as my mind ran different thoughts.

I guess this is one of the reasons I call my mind a creative machine ?

——

Photo Credit: http://www.pinterest.com

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Sidi’s first dance

Late post….Apologies.  Wordpress issues still unresolved.

******
The honk of a taxi blared outside their room. “It’s time.” Rukayat clapped like an excited child. They walked out of their room and waved to the taxi driver who nodded to acknowledge them. Rukayat walked briskly to the waiting taxi while Sidikat took one step at a time. “C’mon Rukkie, wait for me.” She said to her friend. Ruka walked back and held her friend by the hand.

They arrived the venue of the party in about forty-five minutes. Music was already blasting from speakers stationed on the porch. Rukayat looked at her friend and both of them shared a smile. Four guys in their class were standing outside; each holding a glass of wine. “Oh my goodness, Musari is here already.” Sidi said feeling giddy.

Ruka paid the taxi driver and eased out of the car carefully. Musari noticed her and smiled. As Sidi eased out of the car, Musari saw her. Sidi raised her head high and flicked her hair. She locked eyes with Musari as she smiled at him. The air was cool and a light breeze blew her flowing gown. Sidi loved the way her dress danced to the tune of the wind until she stepped on it mistakenly. Before she knew it, she hit the ground as Musari and his friends rushed to help her up.

As they tried to, she realized she had twisted her ankle and she screamed as pain shot through her body. Tears streamed down her cheeks and she bit her lip.

“Sorry.” Ruka said as she turned round to attend to her friend. She removed her friend’s shoes from her feet. “Should we take you to a hospital? It looks like your ankle has been sprained.”

Sidi nodded unable to utter a word.

********

Two hours earlier

Sidikat put her feet carefully into the shoes and stood up to take a step. She wobbled a bit but regained her composure. “Are you sure you can walk in those heels?” Rukayat asked her.

“Of course, what do you mean? I’m a chic.” Sidi replied.

“Okay oh. If you say so.”

They got dressed with excitement. They had less than thirty minutes before the taxi they booked was due to arrive. They had refused to attend their last lecture in school which was slated for 5.30pm. They wanted to get back to the hostel early enough to freshen up for the night party.

Considering the distance from school to the venue, they decided to book a taxi for 7.00pm. Ten minutes after the scheduled pick up time, the taxi’s timer would start to surcharge them. It was their first party outside campus and they were both thrilled and anxious. They were both 100 level students of the Law department.

Rukayat had chosen a red floor length straight dress and wore a pair of kitten heels black pumps. She told Sidikat that since it was an all-night party, she wanted to be comfortable. Sidi, however had chosen a black flowing dress with a red 6 inch stiletto sandals.

She catwalked to and fro the room trying to maintain her balance.

******

The doctor examined Sidi’s ankle and put an ice pack on it. He bound her ankle in a stirrup splint and asked her to stay off heels for the next three months.

Sidi looked at her friend with tears in her eyes. “I should have listened to you. I was really looking forward to dancing with Musari. I guess that won’t happen any longer.”

Ruka gave her friend a sad smile. “It may happen sometime later.”

“Yeah, sometime later.” She sighed regretfully.

——

Photo Credit: http://www.dhgate.com

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Buy Market

Various food stuff lined the narrow street on the left and on the right. Starting from the beginning of the street to the end, wares were displayed barely leaving enough room for a car to drive through. The taxi driver maneuvered through the market struggling not to hit any wares. A few times, he honked for either a buyer or a seller who stood brazenly on the road ignoring the oncoming vehicle. Some insulted the driver while some simply ignored until the car was beside them before shifting their bodies a bit for the car to pass by.

All of a sudden, screams rent the air and everyone looked in the direction of the noise. A loose cow ran towards the market and a few women rushed to grab their wares off the road. The other women whose goods could not be easily grabbed in a jiffy and the shoppers ran helter skelter. The whole market was in chaos. Two young boys came running after the cow in a bid to tame it. They eventually did and got it under control.

By the time the commotion died down, tomatoes had been trampled on, garri basins had been upturned, ugwu and ewedu leaves had become mixed with mud. The women came out of their hiding places cursing the cow and its handlers.

The taxi driver who had parked when he heard the commotion looked at the women and laughed. “So you fit run when you see malu but if na car, you go dey do yanga.”

The women looked at the driver and started raining curses on him but the man drove off laughing.

——

Photo Credit: http://www.jujufilms.tv

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Road Rage

As the yellow bus maneuvered its way dangerously through the snarling Lagos traffic, the passengers shouted. “Oga driver, take am easy, abeg oh.”

The driver turned a deaf ear and continued to weave his way as he faced oncoming vehicles. He was wearing a singlet which must have been white at some point. He retrieved a dirty rag from the dashboard and wiped the sweat on his face and neck intermittently.

“Driver, no be you we dey talk to?” An elderly woman shouted from the back of the bus.

“Wetin? If you wan drive, make you come down come drive.” He shouted and sneered back at her.

“Driver, driver!!!” Another woman shouted as a trailer drove towards them from the opposite end.

The driver refused to heed the word of caution and continued to drive ahead. Screams and shouts rent the air, while other passengers cursed.

A few metres away from the trailer, the driver made a sharp turn to the right in order to make way for the trailer. As he did, he bumped into a navy blue Toyota Prado. He immediately tried to swerve back to face oncoming vehicles but the trailer was yet to have a way through. The trailer driver spew expletives at him but the driver was undeterred.

“Driver, you no see say you don jam that jeep?” The man who was seated beside the driver said.

“Go see wetin happen for dia.” The driver said to the bus conductor.

The bus conductor alighted from the bus. He shook his head as he checked the damage done to the Toyota Prado. While at it, the driver of the car came out. He was wearing a red long sleeved shirt on faded jeans trousers. The man removed the sun shades he was wearing and assessed the damage. The back door on the driver’s side had been dented and it had yellow streaks on it.

The conductor looked at the man . “Sorry sir.” He pleaded.

“Oya, oya enter bus, make we dey go.” The driver shouted at the conductor as he ignored the driver of the Toyota Prado.

“You no go look wetin happen to the car?” The man seated beside the driver asked again.

“Oga wetin be your own? Na you get the car?” The driver asked him.

“Ah…ah.” The man exclaimed as he looked at the driver in astonishment.

The trailer driver continued to curse the bus driver as they were now at a standstill. The trailer driver could not move forward as the bus was blocking his way.

The man in the Toyota Prado was quiet all through. He went towards the back of his car and opened the boot. He took out the wheel spanner from the boot and walked to the back of the bus. He swung his hand and in an instant, glass shattered. He raised his hand again, shattering the second brake light.

“Ahn…ahn…” The driver came down from the bus hurriedly. “Wetin be this nau?” He said walking towards the man.

The man moved towards the front of the bus and swung his hand shattering the right side mirror.

“Driver, sebi you say you mad. You don jam person wey mad pass you.” The elderly woman in the bus said.

The man was walking towards the other side of the bus. He was about to swing his hand again when the conductor prostrated on the floor before him. “Oga, please. E don do. Please sir. Abeg, no vex sir.”

The man looked at the conductor and nodded his head. The driver was standing at a safe distance murmuring and assessing the damage done to his bus.

The man walked back to his car and dropped the wheel spanner in the boot. He shut his boot, walked quietly to his car, eased into it and drove off while the shocked passengers, the conductor and the driver looked on.

——
Photo Credit: http://www.techcabal.com