The Wife ESCAPED!

The first round of hawking was an easy success since Caro targeted the motor park (or ‘garage’ as it was usually called) part of the bus-stop unlike most other hawkers who stayed within the market.

Being an expert hawker with the right tone of voice, persuasion skills and an experienced eye for the right customers, Caro sold out her few oranges to mostly passengers who were waiting for their vehicles to get filled up.

When she returned to the market, the woman who had provided her with the oranges was more than surprised and very pleased with her swift success. Immediately, she split Caro’s profit, giving her her commission and a little tip which Caro spent on another satchet of sausage roll and a satchet of cold water.

She remained with the woman in her stall for the next hour until the woman asked if she was up for another round of hawking. Caro was, and this time, her tray was loaded full. She hit the garage for the second time as a hawker, but this time around, she would learn why there were very few hawkers in that part of the bus-stop.

Caro had hardly hawked for a quarter of an hour when she was approached by a dark and dirty ruffian with bloodshot eyes. She had thought he wanted to buy some oranges, but when he blew cigarette smoke into her face, she thought otherwise.

“Wetin dey worry you na?”, she demanded after clearing the smoke from around her face. She was not angry yet, but she could easily be if he repeated such nonsense.

“Wetin be your name?”, he asked, drawing in a large puff from his cigarette.

“Why you wan know?”, Caro shot back, looking at him with displeasure.

“Who give you permission to sell for this garage? You don come see me?”

“See you for what? You be tourist attraction wey people dey come see?”, Caro retorted, looking him up and down to drive home her point. He was clearly not very much fit to be seen considering his dirty and naturally ugly appearance.

For reply, he blew another even thicker cloud of white smoke into her face. Caro lost it. Dropping her tray, she marched forward, closing the gap between them.

“Wetin dey worry you? Wetin make you dey blow your useless smoke for my face? Abi you dey krace?”

But despite her anger and the resulting insults, the ruffian seemed unmoved. He kept puffing unconcernedly at his cigarette and Caro’s anger had no choice but to deflate itself. But just as she was about to pick up her tray and commence hawking, he suddenly spoke up.

“You go pay for the hawk wey you don hawk today, later you go come see me.”

“In your dreams,” Caro hissed, picking up her tray and balancing it on her head. But before she could take a step forward, he blocked her path.

“If you no pay me my money now, I go call my boys to seize you and your orange.”

At the sound of the words ‘boys’ and ‘seize’, Caro’s mind reflected on the futility of fighting the ruffian. He had boys who could be as bad or probably much worse than he was and the oranges she was hawking were not hers. She had better give the filthy bastard what he wanted or she would lose in more ways than one.

“How much?”, she demanded reluctantly with an angry scowl on her face as she unrolled her profits of the afternoon.

“Two hundred,” he replied and puffed.

“Eh?”, she shouted in surprise. “Two hundred for what? You be armed robber?”

“O girl, no waste my time o!”, he said in sudden anger.

Caro shot him an angry glance, hissed, extracted the money and slammed it on his open palm.

“Rubbish,” she hissed again and sashayed away.

When she had sold all the oranges and gone back to the woman in the market, she promptly recounted her encounter with the ruffian, asking for her to subtract the two hundred naira from her commission and if she ended up owing her, she would balance it immediately from her own funds.

“Abeg no mind them. Na so dem dey do. Those useless boys,” the woman hissed, handing Caro her full commission.

“You never remove the two hun…”

“No worry. Forget about that one. Na so dem dey do. Just no go that side again.”

Caro thanked her profusely and slumped down on a stool, breathing a deep sigh of relief. The day had been far from wasted. She had made quite a sensible amount of money in a couple hours and if she spent it sparingly, she would save enough to… To do what exactly? She did not even know!

**

Evening was marching on and night was not very far off. From the activity in the shop of the orange seller, Caro could see that the woman would soon be closing for the day and that meant she would have to find somewhere to spend the night. Or perhaps the woman could help? She had a shop, something not very common with orange sellers. Would she agree to rent it out to her as a hotel for the night?

“Ma, abeg you dey leave anything inside your shop… after you don close?,” Caro asked.ConTEent bel0ngs to Nôv(e)lD/rama(.)Org .

“No. Why? Wetin make you dey ask?”, the woman asked, clearly perplexed.

“Ehh… as day dey dark and I no get anywhere to stay, so I dey…”

“Oh. Okay. You fit sleep inside the shop, but you go lock am from inside o. When I come in the morning, I go give you key from the window.”

“Oh thank you very much, ma. God go bless you.”

“Amen o. Or make I even give you the key sef na, abi? At least, you no go fit carry the shop run.”

The woman laughed at her own joke while Caro contented herself with a polite smile, thanking her stars that she had met another kind soul.