A Multi-faceted Journey

A short story

It was on a Friday,twentieth of July.
Tola and I were on our way to the bus garage in Daddy's new Honda Accord. His driver,Ken was the one taking us there. Tola was on holiday after the school session had ended. She was already looking forward to being in SS3,the highest class in the Nigerian secondary school system because she could not wait to resume her work as the school's new social prefect. My set had graduated a few days before the school session ended. I still remember how nervous I was just moments to my speech presentation as the outgoing headboy. My palms got wet,there was discomfort I'm my stomach and my jittery hands wouldn't still. Tola was in the crowd,hoping that I'd make a fool of myself but she eventually got disappointed. I gave an excellent speech and even won four prizes for academic excellence on that day. All Tola won was the award for 'most beautiful girl in SSS2' later that night during the Valedictory Night Party held for us graduands by the student body. Daddy gave me a new iPad as a gift days after. While still awaiting the WAEC results,which would determine if I'd gain admission into a university that year, Daddy suggested that Tola and I spend the holiday at his sister,Aunt Biri's place. He always used that word,'suggested', as if we could ever overrule whatever he said. I never liked going to Aunt Biri's house though he always made me go. I suppose that was my fault,since I always pretended to enjoy it so as not to offend Mommy or him. Tola,on the other hand, loved it. She was always thrilled at the thought of going to that house. So she could always go shopping with Aunt Biri's two daughters and they could gist endlessly. I was always stuck with her son Kevin whom I detest. Mommy always said that the reason was because we were of the same age and we were equally good in every area and so we tried to outdo each other everytime. But I always found him arrogant and insulting. His large geeky glasses which almost rested entirely on his fat nose and his perfectly-combed Afro hair-cut just made him look worse.
We eventually got to the garage and I had to wake Tola,who was fast asleep in the backseat with headset in her ears attached to her iPod which was loudly playing Taylor Swift's You Belong With Me which she could not relate to in any way possible. She always looked funny when she slept. Her dark longer-than-average curly hair was rough,pressed against the car seat,her large beautiful brown eyes shying away, hiding under their lids,her small nose widening and compressing as she breathed and her small pink lips always moved like she was trying to say something but couldn't. She flung her left arm at my face as she awoke and I yelled,exaggerating the mild pain. She said the unusual 'sorry' and we all got out to get our luggage out of the trunk. The breeze blew up Tola's thigh-length Amethyst-coloured dress which Daddy mysteriously allowed her to wear. So many people in the garage looked at her direction and she adjusted her dress,unashamed. My sister never showed a flicker of shame,fear or embarrassment. Except ofcourse,when Daddy beat her after he was informed that she had cheated on an English test. Daddy,being a renowned English professor had burned with rage that night. I checked my pocket to make sure my wallet and phones were still with me. The driver of each bus rushed at us,asking where we were headed,directing us to his own bus. Ken looked for a cab which could get us to our destination but none of the prices were sensible or negotiable. We eventually settled for a bus,a decision we would later regret.......for a few minutes. It was Tola's first time. I had been in a commercial bus once when I had travelled to Lagos for a national Mathematics contest. I went with a teacher and a driver. The driver reportedly found his long-lost wife while we were in the city,so he refused to take us back after the contest ended. I had no option but to travel back to Ibadan with my teacher through a bus. I still remember Daddy screaming at the principal when he found out. He had been so dramatic in his furious display that I laughed quietly. Ken made us promise not to tell anyone about the bus and I had no problem with it. I infact expected Tola,the beauty queen to be the one complaining but she was surprisingly calm. The bus driver,a tall lean man of about forty years old ushered us into a bus. He was dressed in a grey coloured T-shirt and whitening blue jeans with brown sandals accessorising his dusty feet. He sounded very friendly despite the repelling odour of Regal Gin oozing from his mouth. His lips were as dark and as his skin. It was very apparent that he was an avid smoker. We got into the bus,an obviously white bus which was almost turning brown due to the garage dust and rusting. Some of the windows and lights were broken,most of the seats were torn and one could even see the foams and metallic skeletons of the seats. When we got in about ten people were already seated so it did not take long for the journey to begin. The driver got into the seat and we were seated right behind him. A woman who sat at my back began to pray for the safety of all the passengers. I did not even bother to take part in the 'Amen' chorus which others did. I was busy eating the 'gala' and Pepsi bottle drink I had just bought. So many street beggars came to my side because I was sitting by the window,throwing prayers at me so I could give them money. I did not even look at them twice. I never cared for prayers,I never cared for religion though no one knew,not even Tola! We said goodbye to Kevin as the bus departed for Lagos.
Soon,I began to play Davido's hit Afro-pop song,Skelewu on my Blackberry phone with the headset. Shortly afterwards,I could hear the woman behind me,the same woman who had started the prayers earlier speaking on the phone despite the fact that the music volume was so loud I could hardly hear myself singing along to the track. I paused the music,alarmed that something was wrong but to my irritation,she was only talking to her son,informing him of her departure to Lagos. I always disliked hearing someone shout over the phone. Mommy called it bad manners. It was when I turned that I saw the woman clearly. She was fat and dark-skinned with a big round face. She had no jewellery on. Her lips began to spread into a smile as I realised that I had been staring at her. She was wearing a blue ankara attire designed with tiny red dots inside pink circles. I aplogised and looked away. Tola was now on phone with her friends,talking about a party which was coming up. She also told them that Ken was driving her to the airport,so she could travel to the United States as she had said would happen back at school. She was not loud enough for everyone to hear. I'm sure her friends must have known she was lying because her friends never questioned the technical inaccuracies or discrepancies in her stupid lies,or they must have been so gullible. The tired noise of the weary wheels of the average Nigerian commercial bus was always loud and recognisable,even through the phone. I then heard a child cry from the extreme back seat. I looked back but could not see clearly until the little girl jumped up on her mother's laps. She was about four years old. As she cried out,I could see the crumbs of biscuit all around her mouth and on her pigtail-styled hair. All I could see was her upper body,she had a purple top on with the words 'Jesus Is My Friend' written on its chest. People sitting near the mother cautioned the child with different languages. It was then that I got to know that the mother was heavily pregnant and the existing baby whined endlessly ever since she had heard that ANOTHER baby girl is 'coming from God to live with me and mommy mi'. She began to explain how her absentee husband worked in the northern part of the country and only visited once in two months. Eventhough I was nauseated by the fact that one would carelessly spill her life secrets to total strangers,I was enjoying the story. Even Tola had stopped watching Beyonce's Superbowl Halftime Show video now,she was listening too. The pregnant woman told us about how her husband allegedly had another family-a wife and two children where he worked. She went as far back as how they had met ten years ago during a peaceful-turned-violent students' protest while at school when he shielded her from being hit by an angry student-driver who was going to drive his car into the dean's office . She told us that they had got married three years later. The husband lost his job at a wine factory shortly after and had found a job which required him to travel far away from home. After heavy deliberation,they both decided that it was best for him to go so as to help the family survive. The woman could not get a proper job without adequate qualification,since she had spent the last year of her university days nursing breast cancer. She gave birth to Toluwani,the little girl, a year later. The husband was not even present for her naming ceremony. Everyone,except me and Tola screamed 'Haaaaaaa!' at this revelation. Rumours had it that he was angry that she had borne a female child whereas his other mistress was pregnant with twin baby boys at that time. Anytime she confronted her husband about the affair,it mostly resulted in insults and violence. She soon gave up. Everybody,including me could not help but let out different sounds of pity and disgust at the same time. So after hearing that she was pregnant again with a girl,he had refused to come home for three months. She was now travelling to Lagos to report the matter to his parents who lived there. The woman admitted to contemplating suicide so many times but the love of her child and fear of God kept her going. 'Fear of God?' That even annoyed me more than the fact that she was saying this story in the presence of her daughter who could remember bits of it in the future. She expressed strong faith in God's ability to help her deliver the baby safely and raise the child well albeit as a single parent. The fat woman prayed for her and everyone once again chorused 'Amen' to another person's prayers.

I heard Tola's scream and I stood right up,my head hitting the iron car roof. That was when I realised I had dozed off for sometime,but before I could process any further,I heard every other person's screams as our bus crashed into a forest and hit a big tree and then went back with full force unto the road as it tumbled. A passing car almost hit our bus which was now upside down. I felt my heart sag low into my pants. I could hear screams of fear and bewilderment. People screamed 'blood of Jesus'. I reached for Tola's hand and she did not move.
'Jesu Kristi,iwo ni mo gboju le oooooo. So kale wa!' the fat woman with the bible said,calling unto Christ for help in Yoruba language.
Smoke engulfed the bus and people from outside came out of the other buses and cars which were also plying that route and managed to yank the doors open so we could all rushed out. I managed to pull Tola out onto the side of the street. Her immobility sent shivers down my spine but I was relieved to discover that shock was what froze her. She hugged me so tight,pressing herself hard against me. She never hugged me except Daddy was there.
'I love you' she said, 'are you alright?'
'Yes I am' I answered,ignoring the painful sting of the tiny broken glass chips on my arm. I looked around and everyone seemed physicall well. Everyone began to pray. I've hardly known anyone in this country without a religion,no matter how sinful they could be. A man,whose perfectly ironed white shirt had now turned to mix shades of brown,black and white knelt down beside the road,where we had all retreated to,and began to call upon God. His elbow was bleeding but it was mild. Tola began to praise God,something she definitely did not do half as often as kissing boys at school or dancing in sultry manners at parties. My phone screen had broken but I could still see clearly enough to dial for an ambulance but the my sim had mysteriously broken,without the phone turning off. The driver who was revealed to have been slightly intoxicated prior to the journey was hit by a billion insults and slurs for endangering all our lives. He said nothing in return,he looked stupefied perhaps due to his own shock or guilt. Tola then told me that the driver had suddenly lost focus on the steering-wheel and had driven us into a bush of thorns which deflated the two front tyres and even though he managed to drive out,the bus had gone freely by itself into the forest nearby. It all sounded surreal to me,a lot to take in indeed. I then heard screams. The pregnant woman who I could see clearly now,began to scream in agony. I feared for her daughter immediately. The little angel,who loved her 'mommy mi' so much that she did not want to share her love woth another baby. But the girl was alright. The woman was bleeding. Blood dripped down her thighs. People shook their heads with sadness. Ironically,she screamed 'It's coming!' The man who had knelt down previously rushed to her,showing his broken identity card as a certified medical doctor trained in the art of midwifery. As he made efforts to deliver the baby,everyone led by the fat woman with the still-intact Bible began to pray for her safe delivery. I also uttered my first sincere piece of prayer since I was ten,when I would enthusiastically scream 'Amen' at every thing said by the pastor at church, I said,'Lord show me your prowess' and immediately,the the cries of a new-born was heard. Toluwani smiled so widely at the baby and her mother,obviously thrilled by the sight of her sister. A mystery indeed. A bus had tumbled three times on the express road with fast-moving vehicles of all sorts,and no passenger died. A woman who apparently just had a miscarriage delivered her child nevertheless just due to her expression of faith. Faith.........the basis of religion,which supersedes whatever science claims to offer you. You can only dig until you eventually create uncertain explanations for certain events. But faith can do it all. It destroys every barrier and brings peace to whoever let's it in. I could not believe myself when I walked to the fat woman and requested for her Bible which she happily gave to me. An ambulance came half an hour later and another bus took us all to Lagos. Until today, Tola and I never told Daddy and Mommy about this story. If we told them,they would have sacked Ken,berated us for being so unconscious of our own safety and imprisoned the bus-driver. I did enjoy the visit as I learned to look put God first and look on the bright side. Kevin and I had fun,we teased,played video games,scrabble,science trivia,Bible trivia and watched millions of sci-fi movies at the theatres. How could one forget such a day? The day I survived an accident,saw a woman deliver safely by the road in the hands of a total stranger after a life-threatening accident and the day that.....the day that I prayed and learnt about faith. It was the day I took a journey from Ibadan to Lagos,the day I travelled from dark to light,the day I surfed through the ocean of uncertainties and crossed the cracking bridge of soulful woe.

Author's Note

*Ibadan and Lagos are two cities in Nigeria.
*The entire story is fictional and does not depict any real-life events
*it is an original work by me.
*Lastly....please don't forget to drop by a comment even if negative. Preferrably constructive criticism. I'm working hard on my prose writing,so I need feedback please.

Reviews

[TL Boehm]

The only "negative" I would have and it really isn't an issue with the writing but just something I've learned here over seven years of posting stuff that doesn't get read. People gravitate to short and to poetry. If its longer than a page they may not read. So its a personal choice. You can seek out readers for longer work or break things up into chapters - or parts. This is a little long for what would get read here. I found it fine but I write novels and blogs. I think there are some great descriptve moments here, the kid with the geeky glasses on his fat nose, that was very funny. The end - I won't give it away but I was riveted by it. I think this one has potential. It is a good story Very good.

[Master K-tops]

Thank you very much for the advice. I just decided to try my hands at short stories and this story was born.

[Joyrider]

good one K-tops. i use to read your poem, this is the first time i am reading a story from you and it was excellent like your poems.

[Master K-tops]

Thank you.

[Leslie Philibert]

Enjoy this, what I like is the way you use your own bakground, which makes this convincing. Excellent,

[Master K-tops]

Thank you,sir. I really appreciate it.