‘What do you want from me?’ Mrs. Ikumapayi asked.
‘Owo weekend. Madam give me money for the weekend,’ the man stated.
Fearing the outcome of her non-compliance, she hurriedly pacified him with a two hundred note.
‘You dey craze?’ he charged at her like an angry dog, ‘I go change am for you now.’
She pulled out another two hundred note, threw it at him and quickly wound up her glass.
The young man grabbed it, and meandering his way through the traffic, he crossed to the other side of the road disappearing into thin air.
She heaved a sigh of relief the moment he was out of sight, but the drumming in her heart continued. To think that nobody came to her rescue bothered her. What if the young man returned afterwards with his allies, fully armed. Who would rescue her?
She rested her head on the steering, and her eyes went to the timer again; 10.00pm! Her mind drifted to Princess, and her head ached the more. No one knew when the congestion would clear off.
The sound of a familiar worship filtered into her ears. She raised her head and saw some people strolling into a church building off the main road. Rather than keeping vigil outside where her dear life was at risk, she veered off the road and drove in the direction of the church.
Thankfully for her, the church building had an ample parking space. The Greeters at the entrance of the church waved at her with smiles as she entered the auditorium. What difference does it make if she came for a different motive? While the music continued in the background, she spotted two empty benches, long enough to accommodate her long legs, and before anyone could restrain her, she quietly pulled it to an obscured position and drifted into a deep sleep.
The road to Ojodu Berger became shorter as Mrs. Ikumapayi journeyed back home after a tedious day job. The traffic had cleared, all thanks to the Lagos State Transport Management Agency (LASTMA). On approaching the traffic light arena, the light turned green and just few minutes after she passed, it returned to red. Unfortunately for her, one of the LASTMA officials mistook her move as a defiance to the traffic light and swiftly overtook her in the State branded van. Before she could decipher what was going on, he double-crossed her and deflated her front tyres.
The frustration brewing inside of her had reached its climax by that time, then, throwing caution to the wind, she pulled the Officer by the shirt.
‘You offender, come on take your filthy hands off my shirt!’ the Officer roared.
‘I will not!’ she resisted.
The upheaval attracted other members of LASTMA, but she remained adamant.
One of the LASTMA officers pulled her arms away from his colleague, but she struggled with him vehemently.
‘Leave me alone!’ Mrs. Ikumapayi punched the air as she stirred from her sleep. She rubbed her eyes, and then realized she was still lying on the bench in the church building.
‘Sister, what is the matter?’ an elderly lady accompanied by five men, asked.
‘I am fine. It was just a dream.’
‘Is it something that requires prayer?’ The elderly lady asked, ‘these men here with me are members of our Deliverance team.’
‘That will not be necessary, ma…’ she yawned, ‘I’m sorry I missed the vigil.’
‘You did not. Our vigil starts by twelve,’ she smiled, ‘please be on your feet as the vigil is just about to commence.’
About to commence? Her heart sank. This was not what she bargained for. Her desire to quietly breeze in and sleep and then disappear afterwards had failed. Stealing a glance out of the window, the traffic situation was still the way she left it. She reached for her phone and did a voice note to her daughter’s nanny. She had barely located a seat, when a zealous Usher walked past her and handed her a white handkerchief and walked away without an explanation.
Am I here for a cultural dance or what? Mrs. Ikumapayi wondered.
TO BE CONTINUED…
