It was another eventful morning in the city of Lagos. As early as four in the morning, the city is alive with the start of engines. Buses and heavy trucks roared as they ran past leaving smokes in their wake. As the sun rose, music blared from one store to the other, advertising their wares. People poured out into the streets, barking words at one another or stared at those shouting. Others minded their own business walking faster than Usian Bolt probably could.
Sewa happened to be one of those walking and bumping into others. She reached the bus stop and joined the number of people waiting for the yellow commercial buses.
Sewa lowered her head to look at the time on her phone. "Seven thirty? Where were these buses when you need them?" She muttered. She hiked her bag strap higher on her shoulder and tightened her grip on it. In Lagos, you have to be smarter than a Yale graduate; book smart and street smart. If not, you will end up poorer than the poorest man on earth. Thieves were not joking matter in Lagos. They stole everything; bags, wigs, bra, pant, shoe, money, clothes, houses, purses, documents, and even worst of all, your phone. You lose your phone, you are in big trouble.
The bus finally arrived with a man hanging from the door shouting, "Ikorodu." His sorts were called conductors. Most times, they looked unkempt with torn and faded clothes and sometimes, brown teeth from smoking. Few were neat and good looking. They were the ones who risked their lives the most. Who dared hang from an ongoing vehicle?
People rushed in the bus pushing and barking at one another. Sewa joined in the tussle and found herself a seat in the middle row. The bench creaked as she sat. Sighing in relief, she looked at the time again. "Twenty minutes to eight."
"Alright all of you, pass your money forward to pay in an orderly manner. The price is fifty naira, there is no change. One by one!" The conductor's guttural voice rang out. He spoke in Pidgin English though his accent intoned his Yoruba origin. He had his hand stretched out collecting money from the passengers.
Sewa brought out her purse and fished out two hundred naira. He will have change in Jesus name, she thought to herself. She handed the money to him watching his blank expression.
"I will give you your change later," He told her.
"Make sure, you do. You really do not have fifty naira?" She asked him.
"Fifty naira is now scarce," The man replied moving to collect money from other passengers.
Sewa let the corners of her mouth turn downwards. "Hmm." Her eyes roamed the road out the window where cars sped freely.
A loud nasal snort came from her right. She glanced at the person in annoyance. The perpetrator was a woman who had her nose covered with an white handkerchief. The fat dark skinned woman continued to blow her snot.
The man on her left, boy rather, had his headphones on and bobbed his head to the music he was listening to.
"Tell them to wait that I'm coming," Someone said from behind her. The person must be talking to her phone with the way no one in the bus answered.
Sewa too had someone waiting for her. The owner of the land her father used to build his restaurant was going to demolish it unless she could pay. Sewa had everything ready. She hoped she wouldn't be late by the time she reached there.
Once at the Ikorodu bus stop, she alighted the bus and confronted the conductor for her change.
The conductor unrolled the rolled wad of cash in his pocket and handed her the fifty naira.
"Thank you," She said relieved. There were times they never had change and hell broke loose. It was an opportunity to release torrent of insults for both the conductor and passenger.
She trekked the rest of the way to the locked restaurant. A man waited in front of the restaurant constantly checking his watch. He had a brown leather bag in hand.
"Good morning, sir. I am so sorry for being late. The usual morning traffic held me up," She explained.
The man raised his head and eyed her. He had a deep scowl on his face. "Sewa Ade?"
"Yes sir."
"I am Mr. Gbenga. Madam Koyi sent me here this morning."
Sewa let her forehead crease as she narrowed her eyes at the man. Madam Koyi never told her that she would be sending someone. However, since she met him waiting, he might be telling the truth.
"Okay." She gave a small nod and opened her bag. She brought out a small envelope containing the money she worked extremely hard for.
The man opened the bag in his hand and brought out papers for Sewa to sign. Sewa expertly wrote her signature and grinned when she finished. The man handed her a light pink paper as receipt and evidence she is free to use the restaurant.
"Thank you so much, sir. Give my greetings to Madam Koyi." She knelt on the ground in appreciation.
Mr Gbenga gave a small grunt and nodded. Sewa rose to her feet and dusted her dirty knees. "I will pass along your message. The door is open. I advise you get a locksmith to fix the door handle and key hole."
"Okay, sir."
"Have a nice day." He shifted the bag to his other hand.
"And you too, sir." She said and watched him go.
She rubbed her palms together with a huge smile on her face. The restaurant had lost its former shine. The roof had caved in and the door broken. The paint was peeling off on the outside. As she stepped in, the paint appeared to be the same as the outside. Roaches scurried from one place to the other and cobwebs hung from the walls. Everything was dusty and the air damp. Mosquitoes landed on surfaces before taking off again.
Without letting the smile slip, Sewa dedicated herself into making the place shine brighter than its former glory.
