I do and I do

1| The first time he saw her

As Adedayo neared the school gate that late evening, he spared the guard house by its side a look, a force of habit. The familiar sound of a male's voice speaking in a Yoruba dialect through the radio within the house was enough to let him know the guard was in.

"Have a good night, Sani." He said, a simple smile flashed on his face.

Right away, the guard popped his head out through the small window "Ah, you too, you too, sir." His reply was with great enthusiasm, glad their usual exchange took place.

The minute Adedayo walked out through the gate, he spent a quick second taking in a deep breath and wearing the strap of his briefcase properly over his shoulder before walking down the path to his left. The bus station was about a fifteen minutes' walk from the school. There, he would take a bus headed towards his neighbourhood and another few minutes' walk from the stop.

He stood at the bus station, waiting for the arrival of a prospective danfo bus. The day was getting dimmer and the streets rowdier with people, which included office workers, traders, school students and hawkers, all vying for one purpose, to beat the rush hour period or face the wrath of a traffic jam. Horns blared from near and far, voices joined in the chaos enough to give one a migraine by the end of the day.

"Uncle, buy a banana, a fresh banana." A young lady, not more than twenty years of age stood in his path, carrying a tray full of banana bunches on her head and a sample of one in her hand. Her eyes pleaded for him to at least take a look. He looked away from her, trying to resist the compassion he felt which more often than he would like to admit, puts him in puzzling situations.

You can't help everybody. Sarki's voice resonated in Adedayo's head. A light sigh left his lips. Of course, he knew he can't help everyone but during most of those puzzling situations, he couldn't help himself. He was more moved by his heart than his sense of reasoning. It's a dangerous world and yes, he was ridiculous. That, he was aware of.

"How much for one?" Adedayo asked after he returned his gaze to her, giving in.

She single handedly brought down the tray from her head to the pavement he stood on and motioned. "This side is two hundred naira and this side, three hundred."

Then, he reached for his wallet within his briefcase and pulled out a two hundred naira note. She accepted it, picked out a bunch from the bananas and kept it in a black nylon before handing it over to him. He reached down and helped her lift the tray back onto her head. She appreciated it with a smile. "Thank you, sir." He nodded in acceptance and turned away.

The bus was running later than expected and the people interested in getting onboard were increasing in number. Soon, it'll be a struggle to get into the next available one.

He looked away from his wristwatch and looked to his side for a split second. Though not sure exactly what and why, he found his gaze drift back once more, steadier this time to the person standing beside him. A young lady who looked somewhat in her mid to late twenties. Her height barely equaled his. Her skin was a shade of beautiful caramel. She wore her black hair in straight medium sized cornrows. The view of the side of her face was without a hint of imperfection. Where had she come from quite suddenly? It was a bit uncanny.

You're staring. Adedayo's subconscious reminded and that was when he looked away, staring anywhere else but her. He felt ridiculous, having stared for a moment the way he'd done. He was no perv and it's definitely not a first for him to run into a woman that may have caught his attention for a split second.

When his gaze found its way ahead, he noticed her walking on, rather aimlessly and... the bus honked continuously but she wouldn't stop on her tracks. He reacted on impulse and went after her, grasped her by the shoulders and pulled her back with him in an instant. The bus zoomed by and came to a stop soon after. The people waiting to get in began the push to find a space for oneself. It was the bus he'd been waiting for and instead of hurrying towards it, he looked back at her and she was staring straight at him. Her orbs were a set of hazel brown and deep within them was helplessness. Adedayo knew the look because he'd worn them for years. Her lashes battered delicately. But a light furrow planted itself between her brows, exposing her state of confusion.