CHAPTER 5

Unbuckling his sandals with his legs caked in dust and his damp toes moistening the foot mat, Bode Thomas sighed; his crumpled blue shirt holding on to him. With its hustle and bustle all day, the boisterous noise from the walking pedestrians and sitted travellers awaiting cabs , truck drivers and the long queue of different means of transport - dishevelled humans behind the wheels; Lagos was still considered as the largest of all states  and most populated of all states in Nigeria. One would marvel at how hours pass and how impatience and disappointment reveal itself on the harsh faces of Lagosians as every single move enliven them with joy like one who just received an appointment or promotion. The cracking and hoarse voice of men as they battle to move forward with vulgar words and slangs emanating from their dark lips was one scene to watch except if bottles are broken and one has to take to one's heels.

         Bode Thomas twitched his nose, perceiving a foul smell. Like one who would puke, he held his nose with the aid of his thumb and forefinger, cursing silently.The smell increased more to his disdain, like two - months soaked clothes or a maggot - infested leftovers.

                       "Could it be our semi-toilet closet? " he thought to himself. If he were to see an apartment with cheap rate, he would venture into leaving the slum but for houses being affordable in ghettos except if life has blessed one with much. And the ghetto houses was one popular area known to all. If there's no leaking roof with buckets lined up in one's tiny living room or tiny droplets of rainwater dropping on one's head as one hurries with a bucket, then it will be the full-loaded  pit with a repugnant stench occupying the entire surroundings.

          "Only those whose stomachs are filled can live in a conducive environment. Food is essential first! " Bode Thomas sighed, clasping his hands over the stowed clothes which he had brought in on his arrival. He switched on hastingly, his torch as a dim light ensued and it striked him that the power cut had taken place for a week already. It was not unusual but the effect on him tonight was outrageous for  he had to iron one of his newly bought shirtsHis everyday battle with rats and mices was extremely high, he couldn't condole his trousers being ripped off or finding faeces in the cassava flakes he spent his last earnings on. Sometimes, he would flare up - transferring aggression on the black rats after facing disgrace outdoors. He considered one huge rat he hasn't been able to kill as his boss and when his frustration heightens, he would await the rat, soliloquize and shower words of vituperation at it, names he desire to call his boss!

       "I need money! " he exclaimed, propping his feet upon a stool as he leaned, reclining his bare back on the wall. He held his phone which he referred to as "not little nor big" ; a device which had saddened and dissapointed him several times by repeatedly spending nights at the electrician's workshop. He wondered if he ought to be grateful that he was social and he could gain access to applications by vacancies and advertisements on media. 

         "Maybe I'm not as unlucky as I thought. " he mused, caressing his bellybuton with his coarse right palm. His flat belly stared, a tiny black dot at the tip of his belly button and with bright flash in his eyes, he switched on his phone. 

          He smirked, the light emanating from his phone glistened his face in the dark as what he read took him down a memory lane. It was sad to lose the breadwinner of a family and for the work of two to be carried on the shoulder of one. She expected much from him and he was aware that life require much from him, his family and the responsibilities was huge also. 

         "Bode, No woman yet, no fiancee? her voice echoed in his eardrums, he wondered if any woman would want to have him or if he was capable enough to woo one. Felicia fled not considering how 3 years was no mere joke and how memories of the past was when they were lovebirds. 

         "No time for ill feelings! " he mumbled, urging himself. His stomach burned and he knew what the clarion call signified, it was either a call to fill his belly or ease his bowels. He knew what this call depicts - it was hunger and his belly could chastise him by rumbling with displeasure. He laughed, remembering an article he once wrote for a project titled When hunger strikes. Hunger could be defined differently by all but the feeling was one bad feeling no one would desire to always experience and not have anything to suppress its harness. 

        "Yam and beanscake, rice, fufu and isapa, amala and gbegiri.... Which? " he mused like one who had much to spend on buying a meal or one who would appear at a buka and pay for other customers.

           "Yes, I'll live

             Live, live to declare the goodness 

             Of the Lord.

             The ones who hateth me

             Will fall down and die

             Yes, I'll step

              Step,step on my enemies

               For I am the Lord's beloved. "

  Bode heard the resonant voice of a woman as she sang loudly with great passion. He laughed, remembering how funny his neighbours could be. It was either she had conflict with one of other neighbors or her husband had incurred her wrath.

        He stood, glancing across his plank peeling wardrobe; a beep from his phone jerked him as he crouched, bending over.

        Bode cringed, disbelieving his eyes. A message from his boss at the retail shop! 

        "There's a glitch in today's records, I guess. Cause there ought to be more outputs and what I see here is not honest or credible. I hope you're not trying to steal from me, Bode. I need to hear from you and this can't be today's sales.Not at all, dude! " Bode read out, compounded of shock. 

                                                           ***

           "Hectic! " Tinu exclaimed, her pink lingerie stuck to her bums and her  hair girdled tightly, encovered by a large, white towel. The peach bathsoap fragrance fully occupied the room and with aura, the ebony beauty stood, leaning on the white walls. 

        With sealed lips and perturbed face and in trepidation amidst the huge master bedroom and the sparkling ambience encircling her, Tinu settled down , facing the dressing mirror - a queue of lotion, cologne, antiperspirant on the shelf attached to it. She rose, scourged a big bag with its clasp - opened. She sighed, bringing out some files while she left them on the bed - plodding back to the dressing mirror with despair.

       Dabbing her palm with the lotion, she rubbed her arms; her face glistened with sudor. Pensively, she sat and slid her left leg over the right and  glanced across the raised curtains and the glory of the streets as standing streetlights and nightlamps overshadowed the darkness in conjuction with the moon and shining stars in the sky. The serene ambience remained calm with no sound nor click. With her elbows rested on her thighs, cupping her oily cheeks; Tinu buzzed.

           "Maybe this sight will relieve my perturbed soul. " she pondered. Two years ago, she choosed to live her life in her way and it dawned on her that she was in for a huge risk. There was a black sheep already, one who had claim not to see the light in Solanke's enterprise. If she follow suit, she would become the second black sheep and Bambi Amah Solanke's children will be considered as "Irresponsible and idle ". With her actions like one with bipolar and her life full of strict rules and principles, Linda Solanke was fully realized as the glory of Solanke's after Ronald Solanke until Tinu stepped in and it became totally, the survival of the fittest. 

          "I can't afford to be seen as a loser or irresponsible one. " Tinu thought. She resented her and how her father revered her amongst all was distasteful. Her arrival from Scotland and conversation with her mother, Bambi was an eye opener. When assigned to be the overseer of Ronbi Enterprise, enthusiasm had encapsulated her - the certainty that Linda would flinch at her presence and great exploits was in the air. A year after her vow to at all cost, be more efficient than the glorified Linda Solanke could be and to make her despised mother's face glimmer. Tinu realised life was a battlefield for it required much of her attention and sacrifices. Nevertheless, her social life wasn't interrupted much.

        Tinu Solanke clasped her hands around a glass of vodka on the glass table - few metres to the window side. 

        "For mother and little Jim! " she chorused, raising her glass - fully realising she had much to do the coming week. Tinu Solanke sneezed, dabbing her teary eyes and rising up. 

          "Only the weak trembles! Only the weak stumbles." she considered.