Ngọzi could hear her heels click loudly on the tiled floor of the crowded Food Court her favourite restaurant. She tried to walk softly as all eyes seemed to rest on her. Her senses of smell were all active as she couldn't resist the aroma of the jellof rice and chicken that filled the air. And her empty stomach was already grumbling to be filled. She checked her watch it was 12:30 p.m. She had an extra thirty minutes to make it back to the office
But stretched before her, waiting to be attended to, was a long line of hungry office workers and students clutching their trays. That was how popular Food Court was, and not just that, they made the best jellof she had ever tasted in the whole of Lagos.
Their smoky jollof was unmatched and she’d been craving it since breakfast. So she didn't mind waiting that long till it was her turn.
She pulled down her tight-fitted pencil skirt and adjusted her glasses. Then she read the menu board that hung overheard her. The reflection from the fluorescent bulb against the board obstructed her view. She squinted her eyes a bit as her stomach grumbled again.
She stretched her neck to the counter, and standing there was a pot-bellied man with an oil-stained apron. She wondered if they had changed their employees. But then again, she didn't care. All she was interested in was to get the Smoky jellof before lunchtime was over.
“Next!” the pot-bellied man called as he handed over a tray of rice to a couple.
Ngọzi smiled, there were only three people before it got to her turn. She could already taste the rice and fried plantains with barbecued fish. She checked her watch again, fifteen minutes had passed from when she entered the restaurant.
Finally, there were only three people ahead of her. Ngozi’s heart leapt with relief. She could already taste the rice, spicy and rich, with a side of plantains.
But it happened.
A young man in a fine blazer suit walked past the line to the counter. Everyone stared at him and wondered what gave him such confidence.
"Oga abeg (please), let me have a plate of jellof and chicken," he said before pushing a crisp one thousand naira note to the pot-bellied man. Ngọzi thought it to be a bribe.
"Wetin dey happen here? (What's going on here?)" A man behind her asked, stretching his neck.
"What else?" Ngozi replied, "Corruption even where we came to buy food" she blurted out, her voice sharp.
The young, handsome man turned, looked at the queue and said, "I need to get back to work", he said casually with a wave of his hands.
"And we're the jobless ones. That's why you had to bribe him" Ngọzi was already losing patience. She could feel herself snap like a little twig.
"And you're?" The young man asked Ngozi.
That was the height of it as Ngozi couldn't take it anymore "Your nightmare." To the pot-bellied man, she said, "Oga, I want to see you try and attend to him first. Maka chi (To God), you'll not like the outcome", she swore.
The vendor glanced nervously between Ngozi and the man. “Madam, please—”
"Don't please me. We've been standing here for minutes. You know the right thing, so do it!" She added looking from the vendor to the young man. Then she rolled her eyes.
By now, there were silent murmurs in the crowd. Protesting against attending to the young man in blazers suit.
Realizing that he was about to create chaos if he attempted to attend to the young man. The vendor slowly slipped the crisp one thousand naira note back to the young man.
"Sorry, sir, but you have to join the line," he said.
"Are you serious? Don't tell me that..." the young man tried protesting but was cut short by the vendor.
"Oga join the line jor. No dey shout for my ear. ""(Sir, join the line please and stop shouting in my ear)**
Defeated, the young man took his cash and walked out of the restaurant angrily, muttering inaudibly.
Ngọzi scoffed and said "Humans."
"Next!" The pot-bellied vendor yelled.
Ngọzi stepped up to the counter with a smile on her face.
"One jollof rice, large, with plantains and barbecued fish please,” she said softly.
The vendor laughed, "Madam, madam. You no dey gree o. (You're stubborn o)".
"Before nko *(of course)" Ngozi replied with a grin.
"No worry I go do your food well. (Don't worry I'll give you extra food)" the vendor replied.
Ngozi chuckled, her anger fading. “Thank you. Just make it quick.”
And just as he said. The vendor added extra meat and some pieces of plantain to Ngozi's food. She picked up her order and walked out of the restaurant with her head held high. Nothing was more satisfying to her at that moment than how she stood up for herself and fought for her food.
I love how you describe the desire Ngozi has for her Jellof rice meal. She was dying to have a taste that afternoon. It may have been the thing that prompted her to stop the young man from getting food without joining the line. And she had a taste at last. She'd be glad getting back at her workplace and sitting at her desk with a full belly. Your story was worth reading. Thanks for writing.