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Ade's Journal Part 6

Ade's Journal Part 6
My Valentine & The Elegance Of A Clean Breakup

Ade's Journal Part 5

Ade's Journal Part 5
My Scrumptious Valentine Kiss

Ade's Journal Part 4

Ade's Journal Part 4
A Scorpion is not a Lobster

Ade's Journal Part 3

Ade's Journal Part 3
My Insane Week Before Valentine

Ade's Journal Part 2

Ade's Journal Part 2
He Had The Guts To Come Back

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Tuesday, 31 October 2017

Like A Thief In Broad Daylight


      The gullible flock watch me as I enter the rusty old bus with a driver half high from his half smoked wrap of weed. Fear not, I announce to the rattled people afraid of the uncertainty. I am here, after all it is written.... Touch not my anointed. Of course I am referring to me, I am covered and true. I try to hold back and away my anxious hands that want to bring out envelopes o distribute to the scared people in this cross country bus. He should not be smoking weed, an irritated mermaid girl with snake like curls grumbled. I shiver and cast away spirits of lust as her Beautiful skin distracts me. Eyes on the goal, I repeat to my friend as she catches my eyes wondering. I am not the only one, two young men are discussing and deciding the best course of action. It's either I toast her or you do. I quote a verse and reject their sinful ways. They have had enough and grumble and accuse me of extortion. What is their business?
A desperate man waves and signals for help as his bus lay on the opposite side of the road. The girl protests as he slows down and others chastise her for it. But our words turn into horror as the distraught man springs out a loaded gun from his belt.
 The young men scream at the intoxicated driver to reverse, he doesn't react in quick time. And we are ambushed. The young men scream and insist he reverse and speed away but the cocked rifle ushers him deep into the bush and the false preacher announced that none have anything to fear. As prayers ring loudest from the mermaid girl and the preacher blames her weave and trousers on attracting evil. The armed robber rushed to the boot and aimed the gun at the unarmed passengers threatening to spray them and cursing like he was in an American movie. So much repetition of the word fuck. Then he screamed 'mopo', our slang for mobile police in Nigeria and the hopeful bunch stretch scared necks at the men in special black uniforms and khaki pants. These additional men were high and armed and order us all to get out from the vehicle. They were fake policemen and fellow armed robbers. The mermaid and overweight market women in wrappers were the first to lie down and cover their heads. As phones, bags and briefcases disappeared. Then they formed a pile, expecting to be shot or beaten to death. The young men were last after the bragging pastor. A struggle ensued as one of those men shoves him and hides his head under his stomach. A scuttle ensues and verbals use begins as the fake pastor accused the young man of putting him in harm's way. The excited robbers hear the commotion and warn them to stop. The young man takes cover and the overconfident preacher grumbled. This angered the robber and he sprays into the air and then to the floor on the people. A bullet penetrates his stomach and his comrades join him and order they leave.
Real policemen in sirens approach and the dazed crowd stare on at the bleeding preacher that claimed before the journey that his good ways will rescue and protect the crowd from armed robbers. An NYSC lady was wailing, her certificate and all were stolen and today was the last day for clearance. Everyone pleaded and tried to calm her as real policemen arrived. Men and women who had tuckedand hidden money shared and tried to help others as phones appeared and calls went out to loved ones. As a false preacher bleeding out, I stretch to them all as I am put in the back of the van and carted away. A horrible scene unfolds in front of me, a gang were raping women and beating up naked men. The real policemen shot into the air and as they dispersed approach the distraught young girls and old women. I look at the blood gushing out from me and gather an old rag and put pressure on my own wound. Only a real miracle can keep me alive to tell this awful tale. I hope I get my chance...
 The silent rustle of crickets seem endless this dark dawn and I almost regret turning on my radio to hear such awful news about two robberies on Benin express way, a death trap that people called in to complain about. I was almost thankful I have no reason to travel to any other state in the country by road. The worse I've seen is an accident at night. The fresh blood and only the bottom shaft of the bus on the road. How people escaped the crumpled top of the bus and the head on collision from a truck, I will never know. But the horror from a man searching for a friend or loved one never leaves me. When I remember. We drove past them as they cried for help and this was ten at night. I felt so guilty but thank God a road safety blockage easing front and we passed on the message. We really need help, I swore never to leave late again but these things happen. I can only hope they get the help they need.
  I just baked a cake, no icing just rich and delicious goodness. I am going to see Nnoye.
Meanwhile, did I tell you why Celine was so peeved. She walked in on Pierre and his wife kissing and it was their daughter that reported him. The daughter does not like her estranged mother and the tension she brings to their home. Pierre claims it was an unsanctioned kiss and Celine is too angry to care about who made the first move. She moved to a hotel, I think that was too irrational. But she said she felt choked and needed to be alone for that night. Which didn't help me because her partner kept calling me. I had to tell him she was fine. He was afraid she would get rid of the baby and I assured him that she would never. An hour later he cooled down and Celine called to mock him and was peeved she could not get me for an hour.
'So are you going to tell Nnoye?'
'... Eventually', I add not sure if today was a good day.
 Ajoke laughs and adds via the phone on speaker.
'Its good for him. Haba, actions must have consequences'
 I was laughing until I heard a commotion outside.
We both keep quiet and listen as Nnoye insists she is allowed in. I pick up my phone and call the security and add that they should let her in.
Nnoye looked like an insane woman with bags under her eyes and her weave all scattered and ungroomed.
'Are you alright...'
'Don't alright me.... What is this rubbish?'
 Nnoye shoves a tabloid in my hand as I cut large chunks of cake and place them in clear plastics with green lids. Ajoke stares at the front page as she and the twins munch on freshly baked cake.
'What?', I had no clue what she was ranting about.
'Is it true that Daniel has a new woman?'
 I say nothing and wipe my sticky fingers with wipes and stare at the article. It's a piece by my bastard ex boyfriend, the gold digging Frank.
 I finish reading it and sighed heavily.
'Look he is fishing', I lied and can not accept this nonsense.
'But the source says it's true...'
'Did the article mention any name?'
'Unless there is proof, it was more or less a fling or a hopeful person trying to latch on to your fame'

  You should have seen the look on Ajoke and Celine's face. They knew the truth but also know I have a little away.

  You blame me, this show must work if I have to tell half truths then so be it. It's called crisis management.
'I am writing a retraction or insisting he does...'
'Unless you want to pay him, you ignore him and instead we give them something else to talk about'
'Ashabi's massive boat of course', I add and slap Ajoke's back. She eyes me and adds.
'So my own boat is no longer the biggest ABI, where ya own?'
'Abeg oooo, when I reach America I will but my own'
 We all laugh and then Henrik raced into the living room, calling out my name.
He hugs me tight as if I was lost and he just found me.
'God, you are still here. Thank God'
'Henrik what is it?'

  It was clear he just had a nightmare and was distraught from it. This I have to hear...

**"ADE'S JOURNAL", Season 2, Episode 75**
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Adebusola Ukayat Elegbede is a Playwright and Content creator with a passion for real life challenges. Born in Kaduna state and lives in Lagos Nigeria, she has a passion for story telling from the perspectives of characters in conflicting situations. I started out on the New Writing Project in Nigeria with the British Council Lagos Nigeria and The Royal Court Theatre, Sloane Square U.K. My passion for creating stories led to comic books, television drama's and an online journal on my website (busolaelegbede.com). As part of the WPIC in Stockholm Sweden 2012, the experience has forged life long friends and ignited my passion as a volunteer and advocate for human rights and the United Nations 17 Sustainable Development Goals.

Follow @Busola Elegbede