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Kola stares wordlessly at the receptionist of the cement company he has an interview with.
The gum chewing girl,with fair skin mottled with dark patches, looks at him pityingly and repeats her statement,this time in pidgin English.
“Oga,they don hire anoda person oh.Just yesterday. No more vacancy oh“, she finishes.
Kola thanks her and walks out of the air conditioned lounge and out the wide gates of the company’s premises.
Outside,he stands for a moment calculating his transport fare and decides heading to the BRT bus terminal will be better suited to his pocket at the moment.
The queue at the terminal is long and curvy, like a grass snake winding its way across a garden .
He buys a ticket quickly and joins the large mass of humanity on the queue to await the next bus.
He leans against the metal railing as other commuters squeeze past his line to get to their embarkment points.
He closes his eyes and sighs.
He remembers the dreams he had of getting a lucrative job and owning his own car before thirty .
Nigeria has devoured his dreams,the way it did to those before his.
Now, he is thirty one and unemployed.
He thinks of his retired parents who borrowed to pay his fees,how his mother sewed special aso oke for his graduation and travelled all the way from their village in Ilesha alongside his arthritic father to attend the ceremony.
He is jolted from his reverie by the sound of a lady’s yell.
‘Goddess’ is the first word that comes to his mind.
She is lightskinned and petite,with brown faux locs and is dressed in a black pant suit. Her slim feet are incongruously clad in rubber jelly heeled sandals.
The bearded man who bumped into her and spilled her bottle of Mountain Dew is yelling at her.
“Aunty, dey look where you dey go oh! This na Eko!”
She yells back, fierce little thing that she is.
“You no fit say sorry shey? Common sorry!”
Kola interjects and takes her arm gently.
“It is okay. Leave him be, there’s a lot of craze in the streets of lagos.”
She turns to face him as she concurs.
“I definitely agree with that”
Kola holds her bag as she tries to wipe off the spilled Mountain Dew with a floral hanky.
She smiles her thanks as she collects the bag from him.
And at once, his bad day is swept away by the beauty of the goddess’ gap toothed smile.
Perhaps she will give him her number.
Perhaps she will agree to be the mother of his future children.
But for now he smiles back at her and extends his hand.
“Hi, I am Kola.”
Written by Miracle Eme