OBLIVION

Oblivion: Continuation......part 2

Oblivion Part 2

She threw the five hundred naira note inside an old container, there were older currencies lying there, anxiously waiting to be used. I have not made much tonight, but I am not conducting any business again. There was a letter that caught her attention, it had lay there on her table waiting to be read. It was from Theophilus, she once dated him. He was in the University now.

How did this letter get here, who knows my whereabouts?

It is a small world after all

‘My dearest,

            I have been anxiously waiting for a letter from you for so long. I hope there is nothing wrong over there Does he even know where the hell I am? Your long silence has got me worried.

Thick sugar – coating. This fellow needed money

Unquestionable enough, it materialized.

‘Please my dearest send me seven thousand naira. Where does this one think I would provide seven thousand naira from. She led out a somnolent smile.

‘I need it very urgently. There are several things I just have to buy…

Disconsolately, she crumpled up the letter and slid it inside one of her over-aged purse. On a second thought, she placed it on the table, where she could always be able to sight it.

After cleaning up her body, she proceeded in retiring for the night, she switched off the dim green bulb, noticing cobwebs on the switch I need to clean this room tomorrow fa. With a deep sigh, Bimpe climbed over her bed, she stared up at the ceiling, at the peeling white paint, the three dark blotches were the metal roof had leaked rain water onto the cardboard. Is this how I would continue my life? Would I keep prostituting till the day that I die? And then she had a sudden access of overwhelming fury.

 I need to stop this! Never! I just need to stop…!

But if you stop, how would you keep getting money, for your survival?

Oh Madam Gold!.

I would not forgive that woman.

She shook her head with dull eyes and cursed Madam Gold under her breathe. She was the one that brought me under this mess. She lay quietly again, her dull eyes rejecting closure. She pulled that oblivion state stunt again. She wanted to go back to where all this pandemonium had begun.

Madam Gold was her aunt, her Mother’s sister. Bimpe had then just finished college and in her innocence had begged her mum to allow to go to Lagos in search of a job, knowing fully well that her Mother would not be able to send her to the University. Her mother who had not been to Lagos before, warned against the idea, but after much persuasion decided to send Bimpe to meet her sister who resided in Lagos. Bimpe set out for Lagos.

The roller-coaster bus squealed to a sudden stop with a poltergeist wail of brakes, making some passenger bang their heads on the bodywork of the roller-coaster bus. Swearing, the people began to file out of the bus.

Bimpe was new here, she noticed the way passengers rushed out of the bus in an irritating manner. Her mother had warned her of Lagos, of its fast lifestyle, she needed no more testimonies she witnessed one right here. She waited in her seat, till the last man had set foot outside. Then slowly, wearily as a pregnant woman, she clambered down, with her Ghana-must-go bag. Night had fallen, she shook her head, remembering the long voyage from her village in Egba to get to Lagos, as if that wasn’t enough, the traditional go-slow movements of vehicles which welcomed her to Lagos. How many hours, did we even spend in this journey? Where is Aunty sef. Night had fallen. Around the bus stop, the grey dejection was impaled here and there by little dots of light from the hawker’s kerosene lamps. Farther away, large neon-lighted signs voiced out in gaudy terms of the wares in the shops they fronted. Where is Aunty. She looked all around seeing strange faces. Her mother had warned her. When you get down, stay at the bus stop, don’t move anywhere, your Aunt would pick you, and remember to clutch your bag tightly. She didn’t know why her mother had emphasized on the bag clutching, but she felt an obligation towards that. She clutched the bag as if an unknown spirits would snatch it away.

“Omo-Egba!, Omo-Egba!” she had someone shouting the name from a distance. So there are Egba people staying around here. Thank God o.  The shouting became persistent until Bimpe was somehow  sure that the shouter was referring to her. At first Bimpe wanted to run. Her mother warned her about strangers, didn’t she? Her saving grace was that this stranger was a female, with a lowly dress but wide eyed.

“Didn’t you hear me calling you” The girl had asked, a little bit furious.

“Sorry, I didn’t know you were referring to me…” Bimpe had replied in her innocence “… and I don’t think I know” Bimpe tried surveying the girl’s face in the semi-darkness, to search for any trace of familiarity. But there was none!

“Are you not, Bimpe” The girl retorted almost immediately, there were still trace of anger on her face. Bimpe was taken aback. How did she know my name?

“Yes I am”

“You are Aunty Gold’s niece right” The girl came closer, but Bimpe shifted almost immediately.

“Please I don’t have time for all this, your Aunt sent me to come and pick you” The girl’s faced eased up almost immediately.

“I know you are afraid, but just trust me” that was it, that was the final straw that broke the camel’s back. Bimpe began following her, she just had to trust this girl.

They picked their way gingerly through the maze of closely parked vehicles and noisy humanity, steering clear of the large gutter with its solid green surface-crust that ran conspicuously alongside the entire length of the street.

“Ojuelegba! Ojuelegba! Ojuelegba!” chanted the tout in shrill discord.

“we are going to Ojuelegba, lets rush and enter that bus” The girl rushed towards the bus, leaving Bimpe at the spot. She remember her mother saying something that her Aunt stays in one Oju, she couldn’t get the full name, she didn’t just wanting to rush like a headless chicken. The girl amidst violent struggle from other passengers garnered entrance into the bus. Upon noticing that Bimpe was not inside had to come down.

“Don’t you know; this is Lagos” she had retorted. Bimpe was still confused.

“You have to struggle to get buses. Please let 10 p.m. not meet us here. This place use to be dangerous around that period” Bimpe became frightened, she prayed hard that another bus would come as fast as possible. Lo and behold, one shiny new bus came, still shouting Ojuelegba. There was no need to rush now, the passengers heading to Ojuelegba were not much.

Ojuelebga was known for its boisterous night life, connecting revelers to Fela Kuti's Moshalashi Shrine on Agege Motor Road and to the redlight district starting in Ayilara street through to parts of Clegg Street.

They highlighted at Ayilara street,  Bimpe could hear so much noise and saw much activities she wondered. Don’t this people sleep. She checked are wobbly watch it was 9 on the dot. The girl could read the expression on her face.

“Ayilara never sleeps, as crawlers gather in their numbers and catch fun till the wee hours. Here, the watchword is: money, women and wine.” The girl said, trying to give a sort of a tour guide to Bimpe.

Bimpe caught glimpse of Women of all colours, shapes and sizes line the street, attired in seductive wears, hoping to attract men.

“What you are looking at is a big underground economy with huge turnover,” said the girl, stressing ‘underground’, with wryness, and suggesting the state government has long overlooked an ‘energetic’ source of revenue....

To be continued....

The above story is a part of the Oblivion story, which is among the short stories collection of Random People, written by Okechukwu Best

About the Author: Okechukwu Best is a philantropist, a poet, an activist, a writer. He hails from Anambra State, a student of Political Science in Federal University Lafia.  Best is a strong crusader for Human Rights and Biafra Emancipation. Random People is his first novel, yet to be published.