The sound of honking cars tinged with the blaring alarm of sirens rings in my ears. The nauseating smell of exhaust smoke makes me writhe while struggling for space in a compressed 18 seater bus. Locally made bags of crayfish, tomatoes and other perishable food stuffs are tied on top of the bus.
My face squeezes into the side window as we get stuck in traffic—a fat woman beside me with tremendous body odour seems to be responsible for this.
"Obiagu! old park!!" The bus conductor who's responsible for attracting passengers into the bus constantly yelled.
At some point I get fed up!
"Madam, please could you shift a little? You're pressing me against the window." I gently plead.
"Shift?? To where?" Her loud voice sends shock waves into my ears. I wince my face to the tingling sensation travelling through my ears into my brain.
"Why are you shouting?" I ask. "Mtcheww" she hisses, looking away.
As if the traffic, and the scorching sun isn't enough to make my day a hell, she decides to add hers.
Anger starts flooding my mind, then I let myself lose.
"Better hit the gym."
I immediately sense the sudden silence in the bus. All eyes fix on me. And then I realize... I just fucked up!
"Who's this thin scarecrow?" She retorts.
There's a sudden outburst of laughter from literally every passenger. At this point I feel humiliated, but think to myself:
"I can't keep quiet else she'll win."
My ego rises and the boy in me suddenly transforms into a Man.
"It's your size causing the traffic around here."
A second wave of laughter erupts.
"You're very rude. I'm old enough to be your mother. How old are you by the way?" Her eyes brim with tears.
At this point, I feel I've won so I just put on an earpiece, increase the volume and hum to the songs being played as she continues with her ranting...
"Shame on you you can't even..." Well, the rest is history.
Tension in the bus calms down a bit but the traffic?? Not at all. It's over an hour, but we're still stuck in the traffic. At this point, I instantly realize I have to get down and walk past the traffic jam.
"Driver!! stop me here." I shout so as to overcome the background noise of the passengers, street hawkers, and roaring engines.
I step out, walking as fast as my legs can carry me. I notice a commotion behind me and take a quick glance.
I see everyone hurriedly alighting from the bus but someone catches my attention, it's the 'fat Big mama,' The woman who sat beside me. I watch her carefully as she struggles to maintain balance while walking with her bags. Was it the rough rugged roads in Nigeria? No. It's just her weight fighting against her own body — "Nonsense." I mutter to myself.
I finally arrive at the bank in preparation to withdraw some cash over the counter.
"Thank the heavens." I say to myself as soon as I step in. But then, I pause, my eyes widen, my heart races against my chest— I sight a queue longer than any other I've seen in my life.
Someone comes from behind, rests his palm upon my shoulders "We're in Nigeria. Don't overthink it." He whispers softly into my ears. I Turn around, as I try to get a full glimpse of who it is before realising it's the security guard. He prolly noticed how fed up I was upon entering the bank.
I walk up to the cashier to ask if I can withdraw the last five thousand Naira left in my account— I know the least I can withdraw over the counter is fifty thousand naira but well, there's no harm in trying ones luck.
"Please is it possible to withdraw five thousand naira over the counter."
The cashier smiles. "It's not possible but I can just help you out." Her words of reassurance permeating my heart.
I suddenly hear a loud feminine voice...
"Hey!! There's a line over here."
I turn backwards "I know. I'm not making a transaction just an enquiry. I'm leaving already." I then take a second look backwards, It's the fat woman.
How did she get here before me? I thought to myself.
I walk to the back of the line just behind the woman. She intermittently glances back at me with eyes filled with disdain.
But no, I won't give her that which she desires. Not today. Not again.
We stand for three extra hours before it finally gets to our turn.
I wait for the woman to complete her transaction with the cashier at the counter, but it takes longer than expected.
Something's not right, I say to myself so I eavesdrop into their conversation...
Madam, I'm sorry, you don't have up to fifty thousand. You need an extra one thousand Naira before you can withdraw cash over the counter.
"Please could you let me attend to the young man over here? kindly step aside."
The woman steps out of the line and stands right beside me. She knows if she leaves the spot, she'll start afresh from the back of the queue.
I glance at her face for a while. Her eyes drift from person to person as though pleading for help.
"Ahem," I clear my throat. "Send your account number, I'll send the five thousand I have so you can withdraw fifty four thousand. Give me mine, take yours."
She stares at me wondering if I'm being serious.
"It's fine." I reassure her.
She withdraws the cash and hands over my portion. I walk away without her uttering any words of gratitude. I shrug my shoulders—it's nothing
I exchange pleasantries with the security guard at the bank's exit before I get interrupted from behind...
"Excuse me!" A subtle voice said from behind.
I turn and it's the same woman.
"Here, have this," she forcefully squeezes some notes of cash into my hands.
"Thank you." She says, while exiting the bank. I drift my eyes back and forth between the woman and the five thousand Naira cash on my cupped palms: This will definitely go a long way, I voice out as my face spreads into a smile.
Wearing the same smile, I head home. It's been a long busy day in the busy city of Lagos, Nigeria, and my bed couldn't wait any longer.
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I love the fact that you are writing in present tense, using first person point of view. I've tried it a few times, it gets really tricky and needs some skill. Well-done! Also, I really love your story and the twist you introduced. Very interesting.
Right? Writing in past tense is much more easier to flow with, but, Present tense creates this emotional connection between our readers and us. We could learn a whole lot together, don't you think? 🙂
Thanks for the comment @mmeyenejoseph ✨
Truly the discomfort in vehicle which are caused by fat women can sometimes unbearable.