Jaja and Normani: Death On The 101st

The Hold-up

"Kilosele bayi?" the female youth corp complained loudly in Yoruba. A few other passengers were also starting to get agitated at the sudden stop. Normani peeped out briefly from her side of the window. Hundreds of cars and other vehicles were honking angrily all around. The bus had just passed Molete's uphill side and they were nearing Saint Annes School. Up ahead on the road, she noticed that the traffic had come to a complete standstill.

And we've not even made a third of our journey.

"Fuck!" her brother muttered beside her. She carefully withdrew her head and closed her window. The angry horning died down a bit. "What's up?" he asked her impatiently.

Normani unplugged the device from her ear. "Oh, so you're talking to me now-" she scoffed, "thought we were on a 'no-communications' basis."

He gritted his teeth. "We're still not talking. I just wanted to ask you about what you saw out there." She eyed him for a second. Wuss, she thought.

"I don't know. I think it might be a breakdown or an accident. You know Nigerian motorists and how they love to exhibit their madness on the highway... might even be two commercial drivers arguing."

"I won't be surprised if it has turned to a hot exchange of blows, now,"Jaja supplied.

"Hey, driver!" the dusky-clothed man that boarded the bus last hollered, "wetin sup? We all get place wey we dey go, now."

"Alright, fine," the middle-aged shuttle driver replied, his voice coming out with the slightest hint of annoyance. "I'll go and check what is going on." The door on his side opened with a hiss and he alighted. Sidetalk and murmurs ensued everywhere inside the bus all at once. A woman draped in native Igbo attire-which consisted of a white, lace blouse and two different lengths of colorful waist wrappers and a headtie that matched the set of wrappers-stomped repeatedly on the bus floor, hurling what Normani could only guess were curses in her native tongue. Normani used the time to observe her surroundings.

The man she saw looking at the time on his watch earlier had stood up out of sheer curiosity and moved towards the front of the bus, staring through the windscreen at whatever was going on outside. Another man in a short-sleeved blue T-shirt and casual jogging pants joined him. Several other people were also starting to move toward the front of the bus. At a point, apart from her, only the old man with the hearing difficulty and the patient-looking soldier remained seated. Everyone else had converged at the front of the bus. Normani could tell there was another something disturbing the soldier, even though he looked to be satisfied with whatever was going on.

Hmm, he almost seems... distraught.

Not your problem, Normani, she reminded herself. Not your problem. Normani saw the beautiful woman that sat beside the briefcase man engaging in small talk with the photographer. She couldn't hear what they were discussing so heatedly but she could hear snippets of it.

"... really love...camera, you know..." the photographer said, her eyes twinkling as she clutched the device she'd kept in her bag the entire time.
"Me, too. You know... younger...mother bought a similar...for me," she replied, rubbing her right middle finger upon which sat an expensively-looking ring with a brightly coloured, red orb. Normani was drawn from the conversation-which was absolutely not interesting, whatsoever, to her-towards the beautiful woman as she rubbed her middle finger with her other hand in an almost-unconscious manner. Normani scanned the woman head-to-toe, now that she had the opportunity to: She really was a beauty beyond her words.

She had a smooth, round face with an attractive light complexion. Her cream coloured gown was something exquisitely styled in such a way that one could wear it to a dinner party for the rich and also decide to drop by a book club meeting. It was simple, and yet, looked very classic. Something in her disquieted eyes told Normani that this woman-Evanda, (which she discovered when the suited businessman called for her)-was no stranger to having men swoon over her. The bus driver that had gone to check on the state of the traffic came back in. As soon as he placated the reluctant crowd, every one of them soon returned to their seats.