[Story] Love, Lust And Lost

8 years ago

[Story] Love, Lust And Lost

Time:- 02:45pm
Venue:- Idumota market.

The crowd that day were much, it was some few days more before Easter and people had started trudging the market to buy things they would need to make Easter worth celebrating.

The suns rays were much, some 40degree beaming on the earth. People were sweating profusely. Some people their legs were so dusty you would think they hadn’t had a bathe since 3days.

The different advertising strategy rung out the air, – in the midst of noises coming out of car horns, negotiation between customers and sellers. Trudging of foot, smelly armpits in each others faces; perfumes of those big people that sprayed them on the body as though it were water meant for bathing the body, – stirred the atmosphere in combination with fumes of cars, buses, Keke Napeps (Tricycles) and okadas (motorcycles).

It was no place for a sick man or asthmatic patient to be in. It was also not meant for people that had not eaten or were slow walkers or morons from rich homes that didn’t want their body contact with others.

This was a place for just market. No one is expected to walk majestically, even when you are a minister or honourable or even the first lady. You could be shoved aside by people. Heavy loads could just fall on you when people carrying them lose balance or were wrecking their necks off overloads. You could be spat on unknowingly or snot be splashed towards you as people flow their noses. Sweat could sprinkle your way as people wiped it with their fingers.

“Hey!, Argo o (give way o)!” Some hausa men with big sacks of loads on their heads shouted so anyone on the path they walked could get out of the way.

“Arh!. Oga, you no dey go again o, see as you scatter my market” a woman selling provisions arranged in her make-shift stall held a man out of about 6 people that burgled themselves out of the way so the hausas could pass. Her markets were already sprawling on the grounds. People stepped on some without intent, some rolled and fall below the pavement, cars smashing them as they wheeled on it.

“Well, that one don enter gbese (trouble) be that” some mumbled while others increased their pace. The market was not a home to sleep all day.

“My guy, I get jeans o. Confirm one!”

“Guy, see this belt, na everlasting, see as e strong reach, na crocodile skin dem make am” the trader demonstrated by squeezing or twisting awkwardly, his intended audience walked off and he ran after him.

“Fine girl, wetin you want?. I get nice blouse and shirt for female o” an igbo guy said, holding the hand of the lady.

“Leave my hand na, abi na by force to buy shirt?.” The lady shouted aggressively at him, trying to pull her hand free.

The igbo guy left her grip and stared at her backside that wrung side to side as she walked off, uttering some incoherent igbo words.

“Come, guy guy guy!. No be them those girls from Wahab be that I dey see so?” A nigga asked his friend who took his gaze off his phone and looked towards the direction his friend pointed.

“Na them be that o” he replied.

“Ehn ehn!, I know say my eyes no fit deceive me.” The first nigga said and they both walked to trail them behind.

They were both students of Akande Dahunsi, in the same complex as with Wahab, were Fatimah, Zainab Y. and Mariam attended.

They had tried to woo Fatimah and Mariam for long but it had always proved futile, as their request were turned down. They still remembered the girls saying “you are too old for me. I’m only 14, don’t be an old fool.”

They followed closely behind as the girls moved from shops to shops to buy all they needed.

“Today we go show them fire.” One of them snarled.

To Be Continued….