The Wife ESCAPED!

Roaming aimlessly on the streets of Lagos, Caro deliberately got lost. She just had to keep walking; it was the only way she could think clearly. There was no need to know exactly where she was at the moment. Rosa’s place was the only place she had planned to come to in Lagos and now that she wasn’t welcome there, she did not only need to put enough distance between Rosa and herself, she also had to find somewhere to retreat to for the night… somewhere quite safe.

If she was back home, it would have been very easy, but this was a completely strange land. She knew nowhere and from the attitude of the people so far, there was no guarantee that she would even get any sort of help. She was not very much used to staying without food for most of the day, so the question of food was not her biggest issue for now, but she knew for sure that it would come up later, especially in the late night. She had gone to bed hungry in many enough occasions to know exactly how horrible it felt.Content rights by NôvelDr//ama.Org.

Evening was slowly giving way to the early stage of night and the vehicular traffic and human activity were showing no signs of decreasing, rather they were increasing at an alarming rate – certainly something that Caro had never expected. But she adjusted quickly.

Just before nightfall, she came up with a plan and a schedule to go along with it. Food first, shelter next. She had very little money in her possession and she had no wish to spend any of it, at least not until it was absolutely necessary. But how would she get food?

She looked around her at the busy, noisy road and she could see a lot of roadside vendors. She also saw a number of idle evil-looking boys who had their eyes on her young body, but she ignored them and focused on the vendors. She needed food to stay alive and only living people faced danger. Food first, safety later. But it seemed she was in the wrong place. There was no way she would get food here. The women were constantly alert and always had their eyes on their wares. Some of them even had their children with them which meant extra pairs of sharp eyes. She would have to try the inner streets instead.

***

It took Caro almost half an hour walking the tiny inner roads in search of a suitable place before she finally found a little kiosk manned by only one woman and not fenced with a wire mesh. The woman only had her wares stacked on a large wooden table with a small kerosene lamp to provide illumination.

Sighting her quarry, Caro switched to action mode immediately. She came to a halt. Using the strings attached to it, she tied her frock tightly around her, not to the back as was normal, but to the front, making sure to keep the upper part as baggy as possible. Then she began the short journey to the woman’s kiosk.

One quick look around informed her that the surroundings were completely deserted. Perhaps the people living in the area had all gone into their houses or they had gone to the main road to sell their ‘market’. Whichever it was, it was a good thing and she was not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. This was a golden opportunity and she was fully prepared to seize it with both hands.

“Na you dey sell?”, she asked as she reached where the woman was seated behind the kiosk. She was old enough to be her mother, but the few hours she had spent so far in Lagos had taught her that being polite was more a hindrance than anything else.

“Wetin you wan buy?”, the woman demanded in return, quickly getting to her feet.

“You get bread?”

“Yes.” She was already reaching to grab a small loaf for her customer, but Caro quickly rushed to pick one for herself. The resulting clash caused the nearby lamp to fall off its perch and roll off the table, hitting the ground with a clatter.

“Chai!”, the woman exclaimed as she dove for it to prevent the spillage of her precious kerosene.

“Ah! Sorry o,” Caro apologized, half-bending as if to help the woman pick up the lamp. But the woman already had the situation under control, so she straightened back up.

The bread seller had managed to salvage some of the kerosene and proceeded to re-light the lamp with a sour expression on her naturally sour face.

“Abeg no vex,” Caro said in an effort to pacify her. But the woman said nothing. After placing her lamp back on its still unstable perch, she focused on Caro with an expectant look and Caro got the message immediately.

“How much for this your bread?”, she asked.

“Thirty naira.”

“Eh? Thirty wetin? Ah. E small o. You no get big one?”, Caro said, turning a loaf over in her hand with a critical look on her face.

“No,” was the not-so-happy reply.

“But where I go fit see big one buy?”

“I no know,” the woman snapped, sitting back down on her chair with an angry huff and grumbling inaudibly.

“Okay o,” Caro sighed and dropped the loaf. “No vex.”

She left the bread seller and walked down the street for a few yards before making a sharp turn and swiftly making her way back to the busy main road. Only when she had crossed all two lanes to the other side of the road did she breathe a deep sigh of relief.

Whew. Mission completed! The first phase, that is. Right now, she was like an African leopard in an African jungle. The prey was in hand, what was left was to find a safe tree to enjoy it, away from the greedy eyes of other dangerous hunters or scavengers.