"Lagos will test you before it blesses you."
I often hear people say that but I clearly did believe it at first. Not until that fine morning, I ran like a mad woman chasing after a BRT bus like my rent depended on it. I was just new to Lagos.
That morning, I woke up to darkness, feeling like an aged sloth. NEPA had done what they knew best and my phone battery was on red.
I yawned, rubbed my eyes with the back of my hands, and looked at the clock. It was 6:45 AM.
My body jumped out of bed first before my spirit caught up.
There was little time for a bath. I rushed to the bathroom, brushed my teeth, and poured some cold water over my body. There was no time to wait for the heater to cook some hot water for me. I quickly stepped out of the bathroom, almost forgetting to dry my body. Rubbed my body cream and roll-on almost at the same time.
I grabbed my milk-coloured shirt, the exact one that made me look like I was serious with my life, and a nice navy blue trousers that fit my tiny legs. I put on my favorite wig with its edges rough and dry, but I made sure to tie a scarf over it.
With a pair of heels in one hand and my phone's power bank and handbag in the other. I slipped on a pair of flip-flops for easy movement with the intention of changing to the heels once I got to the office. Then I dashed out of the house.
By the time I reached the Costain BRT terminal, my chest was rising like agege bread in hot water. I had to run miles to get there. All my efforts to catch a bike were futile, as it felt like all the bikemen in Lagos had gone on vacation.
“Next CMS bus is coming now!” I heard someone yell as I got closer to the terminal.
Squeezing into the queue, I prayed the line moved faster so I could get a ticket. Then came two pregnant ladies and a nursing mother. They pushed through the crowd like they owned it. And surprisingly, the people of Lagos allowed them through. I looked around with surprise in my eyes. My jaw fell, my eyes widened and I wondered if I was in the wrong Lagos. Why was everyone so calm that morning?
Then I smiled, maybe there was a wind of change blowing that morning touching everyone's heart
“Aunty, abeg shift na. You get belle?” One of the pregnant ladies cursed at me.
I turned to see if I was in any way standing in her way. But I wasn't. Then I stared from her belly to mine and wondered whose belly was bigger. But it was visibly clear, hers was bigger than my entire destiny. Avoiding the urge to curse back, I moved back without a word. Mama trained me well to know that pregnancy came with several uncomfortable moods. Maybe she was experiencing one
Finally, a bus arrived but before I could get a ticket. It was already filled up.
“No space again!” I heard the driver shout as I walked towards the bus. Then he hit the gas and began to pull away.
Spontaneously, I ran after the moving bus yelling at the top of my voice. Crying for the driver to stop. My scarf flew off as I ran but I didn't care to go back for it. My wig shifted. I didn’t care to adjust it. I held tight to all I held in my hands and ran as fast as my legs could carry me
“Please! I can stand!” I yelled, slapping the side of the bus.
The driver slowed down and muttered some inaudible words but didn’t stop. Finally, he zoomed off, speeding into the highway.
I stood there by the pedestrian walk, bent over with my hands on my knees trying to catch my breath. That’s when I heard a car honk at me, then a deep voice
“You almost caught it.”
I turned quickly to see who it was. Seated in the driver's seat of a black Honda SUV parked by the side was a guy with an easy smile. He had dimples deep like I'd never seen before and a neat beard.
“Almost, doesn’t count,” I mumbled with a hushed breath, wiping the sweat off my brow with the back of my hands. It wasn't afternoon yet but I was already sweating.
He tilted his head. “Where are you headed?”
“Lekki Phase 1.”
“Seems like my lucky day. I'm headed to the same place. Hop in, I can drop you."
"No thank you. I'll wait for the next bus."
"From the way you ran after that bus. I'm sure you're already late for work and wouldn't want to waste another second here. Remember the next bus will take minutes to arrive." His point was valid.
I ignored him and moved forward a bit.
"Come on, I don’t bite unless you ask nicely.” He winked at me.
"You wish," I replied, looking away.
"I'm not a kidnapper either." He wasn't giving up
I raised a brow. “You don’t look like one. You look like tech money with your fake accent.”
He laughed. “Touché. I’m hurt. So? I promise not to sell your kidney."
I grumbled and looked around. There was no clear sign of a bus approaching soon. I checked my watch, it was 7:30 AM already. "Fine. But I must warn you, I know karate" I lied. Then I pulled the door open and got in.
Immediately, AC kissed my face, cooling my sweaty body. He had Afrobeats playing on a low volume. Not the kind that regards women as trash and promotes immorality. The kind that craved to be loved in a sweet kind of way.
He smiled happily. Like he had won a trophy. "I'll keep that in mind. I'm Femi. And you were right, I work with a tech startup in VI. We build mental health apps, actually.” he introduced himself as I got in. Then he turned to the road and drove off.
I paused and stared at him. “Mental health? Like yabaleft?"
He laughed. His dimples are visible again. "Noo. Like therapy."
I nodded my head in surprise. "That's new."
“So, what do you do?” he asked.
“Admin executive at a Fintech firm. Nothing really fancy. Mostly accounts and pretending not to love my boss.”
He chuckled. “I journal through mine.”
I turned to look at him. “You journal your toxic relationship with your boss?”
“Every night. Helps me keep a record of how far I've endured the toxicity and keeps me motivated to keep being patient. Lagos is not for the weak.” He honked on a Danfo bus before us. Made a swift turn to the left to avoid bashing into him.
“Well if it's any consolation, I write too,” I said. “But not my toxic relationship with my boss. Just short stories. Sometimes poems.”
He raised a brow. Look at his side mirror and then at me.
“You do? What’s the last thing you wrote?”
I hesitated at first. “A poem about heartbreak and Indomie.”
He laughed again. I could tell he was a free-spirited guy. “Such an irony. Pain and carbs in one poem. Who does that?.” He joked.
I laughed. "A real irony."
The rest of the ride was filled with talks about books and how power banks have become our true soulmates. Thanks to the power companies.
We got to Lekki, and he pulled up in front of my office. He made sure to park properly then he opened his side of the door and got down. I tried opening mine but it was locked. He quickly ran to my side and opened the door for me like we were on a date. I prayed that none of my colleagues would see that.
"I had to keep your door locked because I needed to do this." He said with a smile.
"Seems like you want to make me the talk of the day at work, Femi," I said getting down. My eyes still scanned the environment to be sure nobody saw that.
"Over a harmless gesture? Please, they can talk." He shut the door and leaned against it.
"Thank you," I replied. There was an awkward silence amongst us. He kept his stare on my eyes with a big smile on his lips. I looked away and started tracing the floor with my legs unconsciously. "Goodbye, Femi," I added and turned to walk inside.
"Wait!" He called out. Then he opened his car door and reached for his glove compartment. He took a little time not minding I was already late for work. I wondered what he was doing. Then, he pulled out a small bottle of chilled water and handed it to me. “For your hustle,” he said.
I looked at him confused.
"You ran after the bus and were tired...You might be thirsty too."
"Oh, I.. I see... I totally forgot how tasty I was. Thank you." I greeted again, smiled, and turned.
But his voice stopped me again. "I never got your name."
I looked over my shoulder. "Zerah."
He nodded with a smile. Then waved and got into his car.
I didn't turn until I was sure he had driven off. Then, I looked at the bottle of water he had handed over to me; it looked different like it had something scribbled on it with a pen. I looked at it closely, and on the branding paper was a phone number with the words.
Call me clearly scribbled on it.
That explains why he took so long. I smiled and wondered why he didn't just ask for my number directly. I sure would have given it to him without blinking an eye.
I got into the office, and luckily for me, my bosses weren't at work yet. The rest of my day at work was filled with paperwork and cute blushes.
Glossary
“Aunty, abeg shift na. You get belle?” - ”Aunty, shift. Are you pregnant?”
