In All Her Glory

•03. In-dependence•

•••

|Chapter Three|

Sharon's POV:

The taxi slowed to a halt and I jumped out, grabbed my bags from the trunk and ran off into the car park for interstate travelling.

There was the noise of bus drivers calling the attention of a specific kind of passengers, by shouting the name of the city or town they were traveling to.

"Ibadan! Ibadan!"

"Ile-Ife!"

"Akure! Akure! Akure!"

My destination! My eyes wide, I traced the voice to a lanky guy standing beside one of the buses.

(A/N: Akure is a city in southwestern Nigeria. Akure is pronounced, Ah-coo-reh.)

Without hesitation, I neared the bus. He noticed me and ran to meet me, his dreadlocks bouncing against his cheeks.

"Ṣe Akure ni?" he asked me hurriedly.

(A/N: Meaning of the Yoruba words above- Are you for Akure?"

My throat was terribly parched, so I could only nod fast. His eyes lit up a little as he collected my duffel bag from me and led me over to his bus.

I paid the fare to him before heaving a very heavy sigh and getting on the bus that would take me to my destination. Four hours drive away from Mr Mayowa. That should be far enough.

As I leaned back in the seat I had chosen, I looked around. This was probably going to be the last time I would be in Lagos. The place I once loved. I took in a breath to calm myself. I was going to a better place. Away from my present life, and hopefully, into a new one.

Looking out of the bus' window, I recalled the last time I had been here. Four years ago, when my Mum's younger sister, Auntie Funke, had taken me with her to spend the Christmas holiday at Grandpa's house in Akure.

(A/N: Funke is pronounced, Foon-keh.)

I sat there in the bus, wracking my brain. Do I even remember the way to Grandpa's house? Well, I had four hours to figure that out.

My maternal grandfather and grandmother had passed away two years ago. Their house, according to my uncle during one of his conversations with Mum, was unoccupied. Empty.

Uncle Mark had inherited the duplex and had said that he didn't intend to use the house for a long time, or sell it. Hence, my decision to live in Grandpa's house. No one would suspect that I was there.

Ah, Grandpa and Grandma, if only you weren't dead.

Then, Mum wouldn't have married that beast, and I wouldn't be in this state. Ever.

"Mum, Shalom," I sighed, my thoughts drifting to them. Had they returned from the hospital? Had they found his unconscious body yet? Or... Had Mr Mayowa given up the ghost yet? Or worse... Had he regained strength and started to look for me?

Stop it. He can't be awake.

I shook myself as more passengers took seats in the bus, their chatter filling the air.

Tears fell from my eyes and I couldn't help myself from sobbing.

"It's okay, my child," I heard someone say. I tilted my head sideways to see an old woman seated beside me. Oops. I didn't realise someone was beside me. I smiled at her through the tears.