Serendipity

Chapter One : Of Coffee and Ex's

Without feelings of respect, what is there to distinguish men from beasts- Confucius

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The sky had become darker and the wind whirled furiously. The crispy smell of dust evaded her breathing space. The wind blew her hair out of place and covered her shoes with dust. It was going to rain, that was certain.

Derin groaned as she felt something light drop on her face. She placed her hand on it. A drop of water. She looked up and more fell.

Shit! It had already started.

A rounded mucous landed on her right shoe and she almost screamed in irritation. Her nostrils flared in fury as she looked up to see the ignoramus who had spat on her favorite pair of flats. An old woman dressed in a supposedly white lace which was now a dirty cream colour shoved past her. "Ekuro, ójare!"

She looked around, everyone moved normally. No one spared a glance at her. The rain drops were becoming heavier. It pained her that she had missed the person who had spat on her. Letting out a frustrated sigh, she kept walking, weaving her way skillfully through the crowd.

Welcome to Lagos, the land where everyone knew no bounds. The lousy bus drivers, the demanding old market women, the very yellow cabs and the traffic were only little things that made Lagos Lagos. She weaved her way through the streets of Oyingbo, eager to find a bus that headed straight for Yaba.

She turned right and ran towards the bus station, she couldn't afford to get to work late. Her boss wasn't the nicest person on earth, in fact she was a grade A bitch -Scratch that a beautiful bitch - and her husband who happened to drop by once in a while seemed like the nicest person on earth and he still loved his bitchy wife.
Derin was a bitch on her own, she never denied it but she had stepped down from grade A. Gone were those days when no one dared to talk her down, she did the talking and you did the nodding but hey, high school was over, this was real life and she couldn't exactly go bitch face on her boss.

She ran towards the first bus she saw at the end of the street. The yellow danfo had a lot of writings on it's windows and black smears around it's yellow coloured metallic body but it's inside had good seats, fine blue leathers supported by rusted irons. As she walked hurriedly towards the bus, she saw people hop in hurriedly and she prayed to God the bus would have space for her.

"Yaba, how much?" She asked the impatiently, the moment she stopped in front of the bus.

"One-fifty." the driver replied, nodding to a middle aged woman who handed him a five hundred naira note and hopped into the front seat.

"Nikini? For what? It's hundred I have o!" Derin spoke loudly. The usual fare was a hundred naira, she didn't understand why some greedy drivers upped the prize on rainy days or whenever suited them.

"Madam rain dey fall. Traffic will dey." He shrugged.

She snorted. She knew it would be their excuse, that the traffic was horrible. They had already decided that whenever it rained or drizzled, there would be traffic. Drops of water fell on her black hand bag and she could feel it drop lightly on her back.

"Oga. Hundred." She tried.

The man shrugged. He raised the hem of his faded Chelsea shirt and blew his nose into it. Derin cringed. Her face scrunched up to show her irritation. She stepped back a bit and tried again. "Hundred?"

"Na one fifty. If you no enter park one side. Customers are arriffing!" He spoke sternly then raised his hands and shouted. "Yaba! Yaba!"

"Ahn- ahn," she whined. Her voice attracted his scornful gaze. He eyed her halfway then looked away from and continued shouting.