The Lives We Lived

3; Stormy night

Kemi's eye lids were fighting a serious battle as she tried to stay focused on the road that stretched before her. She really just wanted to let her eyelids take their course. Mrs Afolabi had kept true to her words and forced them to work late into the night. Kemi's heart really went out to poor Ijeoma.

The heavy downpour was really unexpected considering how warm the weather was earlier that day. Her friend had to walk home from the bus stop under the rain without an umbrella. The common okada (commercial motorcycles) were nowhere to be seen.

Kemi who had dressed for warm weather this morning was shivering in her car. She had closed all the windows in the car except one but she still couldn't keep the cold out. Her mind flashed to last time rain had fell like this.

She'd been home with Osa and the kitchen ceiling had been leaking. She hoped that he had fixed the hole there like she'd asked or else their kitchen would soon become a swimming pool.

The rain flooded the street whi8le she drove as fast as she could on a road filled with pot holes and ditches. Her irritation grew as the traffic jam in front of her car worsened. She soon joined the queue of Lagosians trying to get home under the rain.

Two hours later, she made it to her street. The street vigilante, a stout man with a scruffy looking beard and a huge bloated stomach stood at the gate. His dim flashlight beamed at her car as she shot daggers at him. Didn't he have enough common sense to realize that he wasn't supposed to point the torch in her face?

"Aah Madam Johnson na you be dis?" He asked in a slurred drunken tone. Kemi wondered how people could trust such men with their homes, lives and properties.

*aah! Madam Johnson, are you the one present here?*

"No, nah my spirit dey drive moto." She hissed at him, replying in the local pidgin language. He gave a lopsided smile as he staggered towards the street gate. His hands failed him as tried to open the gate. She honked her car, gritting her teeth in irritation.

*No, my spirit is driving the car*

The vigilante, obviously missing her attempt at sarcasm, continued in a cheerful tone. "Your spirit dey drive well well. Greet Oga for me,"

*Your spirit drives very well. Send my greetings to your husband.*

She hissed at his words and drove into the street. She'd always wondered why Osa insisted they live here when they could equally afford a house on the island. It would have been less stressful for him seeing as his office was located on the island too. She drove down the street and stopped in front of the duplex with a green and cream colour scheme.

She stared at the house annoyed at Osa's lack of shopping sense. A bigger house stood about three houses away and she was sure she could get that house for an even lesser price than he got the one they now lived in. She only wished she'd been in his life when he wanted to buy the house. Perhaps, they wouldn't have got one with a leaky kitchen roof.

She honked at the gate while she tapped her fingers against the car wheel. She wondered if Osa had got anything to eat? She simply didn't have the strength to cook anything. Her plan for dinner was to take a cup of hot creamy cocoa beverage and bread. If she was feeling up to it, she would probably fry an egg too. Her eyelids threatened to give way and shut down but she shook off her drowsiness. In a matter of minutes she would be in her room and on her bed.

She honked again but no one came to the gate. Where was the gateman? Wasn't he supposed to be manning the gate? She wondered what he was doing that would make him abandon his post at the gate house. She reached for her slippers in annoyance. The last thing she wanted to do was walk under the rain and this stupid gateman was going to make her do that. She opened her car door and slammed it with enough force to raise the auto-theft alarm.