It was the last day of the month, payday, Ene had only one thing on her mind as she sashayed home on thick legs, thirty thousand Naira richer, her big black bag firmly held to her side. She was thinking of the jumbo sized Shawarma she had just bought.

If only Lagosians weren’t pocknosers she would gladly start eating her Shawarma right there on the street, to think she had come all the way from Ishaga, spent about four hundred Naira extra on transport just for that particular Shawarma. But she deserved it, she really did. In fact, she deserved more.

If it wasn’t too late, she’d buy a can of Smirnoff Ice on her street and indulge well tonight.

Her pace increased, hopefully, her son and cousin would be asleep before she got home. She loved them, but she couldn’t share. Her thirtieth birthday was in six weeks, she’d order for everyone.

She had walked to the tarmac of bike riders when her phone started to ring, she knew who it was, if it wasn’t her cousin, then it was her service provider. The thought made her laugh as she opened her bag to reach for her phone.

She laughed again as she picked it.

“Hello Osas, how are you? Is he asleep?

She frowned and sighed.

“Ok, tell him I’ll be home soon. I already left work, I stopped to get something… You can try to make him fall asleep too-”

She chuckled and ended the call.

Rotten luck.

Her son was waiting for her, meaning she had to share her Shawarma…

“God please cause them to sleep. Both of them. Please.” She mouthed, looking around for a bike man.

She had just spotted one, and was peering into his face when the commotion started, she looked around, but for tiny lights here and there on the quite busy road, it was dark.

A bike man ran past, screaming.

“Dem dey come! Dem dey come!” As he sped off, she was confused and scared. She raised her leg and started to climb the bike, but the bike man sped off, Ene fell, she quickly rose, holding her black bag more firmly as she looked around to behold the ongoing commotion.

Motorcyclists were speeding and shouting, traders were running. Ene started to run too.

She did not even know why they were running or who was “coming” but she ran like the others. They were probably running from armed robbers!

But wasn’t it too early for robbers to invade the streets? Her mind on her son, her cousin, her Shawarma and her thirtieth birthday as she ran.

She heard gunshots.

She cried and ran faster, she was running, but her legs had stopped moving, only her eyes continued to run, she was suddenly warm all over, moments later, her eyes also stopped running, her knees buckled and her legs became weak, her bag firmly held to her side, her shawarma.

She heard the noise but it sounded so far away.

“Police don kill person o! Police don kill somebody”

Good, seemed the policemen had caught up with the robbers, but why was she falling down and why was she warm?

Maybe she was dizzy, she fell to the floor. She was suddenly cold, moments ago she was warm, now she was cold, very cold, so cold that she began to gnash her teeth.

She opened her mouth to talk, she couldn’t. On the floor, her eyes followed movements, she squinted as flashes from camera phones recognised her face but did not stop for an autograph.

“Police don kill one fine girl for junction”

Fine girl?

That was her last thought as she closed her eyes…and slept.

Written by : Bose La’bos Bamidele

#Spontsneousfiction