Chapter two

I remember how I once read so hard for an exam. I read majority of the book and decided to sleep for an hour, after which I will read the remaining parts. I woke up hours later to discover that I was late for the exam. I told myself that since I have read most of the book then I should ace the exam.

So with pride and confidence, I strode into the hall, received insults from the invigilator for coming late and finally sat for the exam. It turned out that the exam was only two questions that were intertwined and I couldn't answer question number two without answering number one. It was one of the most disappointing, awkward and embarrassing moment of my life. But does that disappointment supersede this?

Burning rage and irritation seeped through my body like a deadly poison, screeching a demanded release in the form of unwanted violence. It was like a volcano erupting. The moment the man said the usual phrase of we will get back to you when I refused to let him have his way sexually. I exploded as fury swept through me like a ferocious wave.

When is my big break ever coming? I'm broke as hell, I have spent every dime I collected from mom on petrol and feeding. I have read, prayed, fasted, and did all I knew how to do best yet nothing seems to be crowning my efforts. 

Whoever came up with the phrase at the end of every disappointment is a blessing, deserves to be whacked hard across the face with a hot steaming saucepan for being such a terrible liar. 

I have been disappointed since last year October when I graduated. I remember how people kept telling me how lucky I will easily find a good-paying job because of my good results. Even the dullest girl in my set now drives a jeep and works in the ministry of finance in Abuja. Where and how did she get the qualification? Did she also trade her body for the job?

I'm more than qualified to work anywhere but yet I pass through sexual harassment because of my thick built figure. Just because I know nobody that knows somebody that knows another body that owns or work in top organizations. Now I have to suffer all my life. This is disgusting to think of. You either have to bribe your way in either monetarily or using your body. Is this what the average Nigerian ladies pass through? 

And to think I starved myself and ate nothing for breakfast all for this nonsense. My stomach snarled and howled in response to my wandering mind and from it came that not-so-subtle undertone of pain. It came in waves and it seemed as though my stomach was slowly digesting itself. 

I glanced at my wristwatch that displayed 5 pm as the time. I could perceive the aroma of fried potatoes and bean cake popularly known as Akara just outside the gate. I walked towards the kiosk and bought a hundred naira worth junks and a chilled Pepsi to step down. 

I tried to shield my face from the sunlight and plopped on my car seat tiredly where I began feasting like a lion having its last supper. 

A tap on my window woke me up from my little nap. I wound down my window to hear what the security man had to say.

"Madam is everything alright?" He waved frantically with a bright smile while I stared on in confusion, wondering if he was a figment of my imagination or it was a reality.

"Everything is fine." My voice came out hoarse and I rubbed my throbbing temple.

"Please help us find something for your boy now man shall not live by bread alone, Akara must enter too." He began raising his hands in salutations, exactly the way hoodlums roaming the street of Lagos does.

"I have nothing to offer, please leave my side." I hissed and ignited the engine.

"Stingy madam." I heard him holler.

Bunch of stupid people. So just because I drive a car does that make me rich? He probably has more money in his account because he receives salary every month yet he had the audacity to call me stingy.

I sighed tiredly watching the long chain of vehicles that formed a huge garage on the road. Most people close by this time of the day and even school students aren't left out as they crossed the road in groups and excited chatters. 

A procession of headlights on the way down the road and over the roundabout turning, cars bumper to bumper, exhaust fumes belching out like Christmas gift to whoever cared to inhale it. Every car turned off its engine because of the new increment in the price of fuel. A country that makes the rich become richer and the poor become poorer. Whenever I think of Nigeria, I can't help but shake my head in disappointment and pity. Sometimes I wonder if the country would have deteriorated to this stage if the British still colonized us.

My car moved slowly like a snail as I stepped on my accelerator and followed the chain of car bumper to bumper. Suddenly my car jerked forward from the impact of the car behind me. I have just been hit and someone should better get ready to absorb my aggression.

I slammed my car in anger and walked angrily to the 2020 Bugatti that hit my car. The driver sat still with a tinted glass making me look like a fool while I shouted, with anger, I banged the hood of the car. I know if they sell and use me for rituals I still can't afford to buy such an expensive car but the fact that I know my right and how to defend myself and the idea of an arrogant, snobby, rich kid who thinks he can step all over it won't work.

He finally wound down his tinted glass and cool breeze from the A.C slapped poverty away from my generations for some seconds before I recovered.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" I hollered standing arms akimbo.

"I'm this and that." A bronze skined guy with the face of a model replied.

"How dare you hit my car, yet you sit down comfortably without muttering an apology." Anger overwhelmed me as I watched his pink lips curve in a smirk.

"Where is the car?" He looked around then finally feigned shock.

"Now that you have come to your senses, I need you to pay for damages. I just painted the car last week." I folded my arms to my chest, my heels tapped the floor impatiently.

He stared at me with wide eyes. "You mean that latest version of okada you call Toyota Camry?" He chuckled.

Anger overwhelmed me, I could feel sweat forming on my forehead. "You arrogant bastard," I said with clenched teeth. "Just because I don't have the latest flashy car doesn't make me less human or my car less of a car. You did what was wrong and instead of you to apologize with soothing words you dare insult my car." I banged his car and kicked his tire.

"Don't you fucking dare, that part of the car is worth more than your bride price and your net worth so behave yourself, lady." He raised his index finger warning me with a steel face.

"How much is the entire car, let me write a check for you so you can upgrade your level and buy a better car for yourself and stop constituting a nuisance in the society." He cocked a brow and picked up a check and a pen, waiting for me to name my price.

"Even though you are naturally stupid, spoilt, egotistical, and arrogant, you shouldn't display your filthy character to everyone." I spat, balling my fist in anger.

"Watch your mouth." He shouted. A crowd has begun gathering to watch free nolly wood drama.  "You are nothing but a snake, you are just like the other girls that stage up drama to get money. Now I'm offering you one so you can get your dingy poverty-stricken ass out of my face." He glared, exhaling heavily.

"And you watch how you display your stupidity, spoilt bastard." I snorted. "If you think I'm a snake then you must be an anaconda. You bloody stupid asshole who doesn't know how to respect a lady." I kicked his car twice again and hissed before heading to my car with my dignity on.

The road was free again and I drove away speedily, replaying all that just happened a few minutes ago. I'm not the type that likes attention, neither am I the type that fights publicly. But in Lagos state, many mad people roam the city so you have to be equally mad to show them who is madder. It is a survival of the fittest between the madder and the maddest.

I horned severally at the gate waiting for Kasali to open up. I'm seething and boiling in pure anger like molten lava. I can hear Kasali singing loudly and opening the gate. I drove in speedily almost hitting Kasali in the process.

"Ah madam, shey your brake no dey work again?" He asked in his usual pidgin accent as he munched on roasted corn. I ignored him and slammed the door.

"Madam, I hear say next week na your birthday, happy birthday in hardy o." He snickered following me around.

"What?" I screamed, my frustration building up.

"Please help me tell the caterer to add pomo to your birthday small chops." He began dancing slowly.

"Pomo?" I let out an exasperated sigh.

"Yes, hide and skin, it will give your small chops a touch of African delicacy." He began his delusional laughter again and swung his hand.

"Get out of my house." I pointed towards the gate.

"Ah, madam! Your body is hot today o, you get temperature?" He tried to touch my neck.

"Kasali are you mad?" I squealed, scratching my braids in frustration.

"Mad keh? It is Taiwo and Kehinde in the village that is mad." He cursed pointing towards south.

"Kasali leave my house." I clapped in anger and began shoving him towards the gate.

"But I'm the gateman now if I leave who will guard the gate. Olode." He munched his corn loudly, referring to the Yoruba title giving to guards that secure the streets at night.

"You know what?" I pointed an index finger at him. "I'm out of here." I raised my hands in surrender and headed toward the house.

"Me self, I'm out of here to my work post." He hollered mimicking me.