Soulmates-The Thieves Broke In || A Nigerian Book.

TTBI .08

In loving memory of late. Sir, Bishop bankole Simpson.
1954 - 2011.

A man of tender heart and loving spirit. May his gentle soul rest in perfect peace. Amen.

" Amen!" I said silently to myself. Mere looking at marble on his grave. I was reminded of the pain and how grief stricken I still was. I dropped the roses beside his grave side and after hours of loitering about walked out of the cemetery.

I was already at the bustop when my phone vibrated. It was uncle bosun, his troublesome attitude had escalated over the years and it was beginning to get to me. I ran my eyes over his text message. While, waiting for a taxi to stop.

Where are you?... I've been waiting for over an hour with my client... How long will it take you to get to ikeja City Mall?... I'm losing my mind and patience.. hurry up. It read.

It wasn't my fault. After all, he only chatted me thirty minutes ago and I had to hurry over to his house. I didn't understand how he could forget something that was important for his Cocoa business.

I'm on my way. I texted back.

Uncle bosun had better thanked his Stars that I was willing to help him. If not for Adam that told me to meet him at the mall after I broke up with him. I wouldn't be anywhere near there today.

I dropped my phone back into my purse and hailed a taxi at the moment. I got in only to be welcomed by the dirtiness and strong stench of cigarettes omitting from the driver. The stout,dark man with two long tribal mark on each cheek and popping red eyeballs started the taxi and began driving again. I rested my back on the partially torn seat. While, we drove on the busy streets of Lagos. The streets were humming back to life and the street lights shone brightly under the scorching sun- NEPA were bastards oo. Here they were giving lights to streets when people were living in darkness. I remember telling my mom when I was young that I wanted to become a NEPA official- she'd bluntly replied saying;
" God forbid!. May your generation never be cursed."

And that left me with the impression that those people collected curses over their heads every single day from angry civilians. I know I was right. Because,I also abused them. I began to drift to sleep when the driver started telling me his life story of how he'd really suffered,how he took garri and stone, how he had seven children to take care of, how business was not forthcoming- The village people were really tormenting him. The way he spoke sounded like he was tipsy. So, I told him to mind the road and God will indeed provide. It wasn't like I didn't have my own problems- Erica was meant to have gone to the hospital days ago. Because, of her running temperature. I'd missed two good days from work without permission. Tommorow was payday and I was going to spend most of the money taking care of Erica in the hospital.

I sighed and stared out the window.

In less than a second. The taxi bumped into a big black matte Wrangler – latest model. I was in shock. OMG... Come see this Jeep. I was so sure that the drivers life savings combined with his wife and kids couldn't buy even one tyre of the car in the next five years— super sorry to say that.
     The driver got down from the taxi and went to examine the minor accident. The car was as spotless as it had been. Except, it's tail light was completely damaged and the back exterior dented. I wish I had time to spare for watching fight. But, I couldn't. I stared down at my watch...I was running late. Then someone came down from the car in an Oxford shift outfit and black shades that were matching the car. Whoever this guy was looked really rich. He looked too young though. He was dark and had clean cut hair. He took off his shades with one hand and after staring intently at his car, slammed his palms on the taxi's bonnet.