Chapter 4 The Journey

Pay your fare ", the conductor ordered, facing her eyeball-to-eyeball. He spoke the local indigenous language.

"Please, sir, I don't have any money,'' Kimora replied, suddenly becoming afraid.

"What? What did you say?" He yelled, banging on the roof to catch the driver's attention. "Stop the bus!" The conductor screamed in a voice loud enough to cause a minor furore in the bus. "This girl has no money to pay, " he announced.

"Let her drop off immediately," the driver yelled, bringing the bus to a halt.

Some of the passengers started talking in low tones as all eyes turned in kimora's direction. She told him she was going to Onitcha, and the man immediately paid her fare. Kimora said a quiet thank -you, not believing her good fortune that morning. She wondered if the man was her guardian angel or something like that. For the rest of the journey, she was deep in thought. The entire journey lasted about two hours, and it was a few minutes past eight in the morning when they arrived in . The bus arrived at its final destination, the Onitsha motor park, and all the passengers alighted. Kimora was the last passenger to get down from the bus. The conductor pulled her ear jokingly, making her wriggle in pain.

"Today is your lucky day, " he said, smiling at her, and revealing a set of bad dentitions, which appeared to be in desperate need of cleaning. "Next time, don't enter a bus if you don't have money to pay, otherwise, you could get into trouble," he continued.

Kimora gave him an angry look and walked past him towards the rowdy park leading to the main road.

She had to think fast to determine her next line of action. As she walked through the busy road, she noticed a beehive of activities. Some youths her age were Hawking various items ranging from bread, biscuits, bananas and a variety of other wares.

Also making brisk business were roadside cooks, mainly women, sealing bean cake and other consumable snacks. The smell of the snacks filled her nostrils and made her hungry.

A car slowed down beside her, and a fat woman, wearing an afro wig, poked her head through the window to ask her for directions. She was seated at the rear, at the owner's corner.

"Which way to the Lagos Bus Park?" The woman asked, stopping kimora in her tracks.

Kimora looked around to be certain that she was the one the woman was speaking to. Since there was no one else in focus, she knew that she was the one the woman was asking the question.

"Em.... I don't know, ma. I am also going to Lagos but I don't know where the park is, "she volunteered.

The driver of the vehicle, an impatient man, moved the automobile forward and asked for direction from another passer-by. Kimora observed the direction the car took, and she quickened her strides in that same direction.

It was rather a long walk, and she was getting tired and very thirsty too. She heaved a sigh of relief when she saw a bus park with various buses, picking up passengers heading to Lagos. The first bus in line had a cardboard boldly displayed on it with an inscription, ' Lagos.

Kimora was somehow happy, and somehow afraid. How on Earth was she to raise money to pay her fare to Lagos, and where exactly was her destination in Lagos?. The thought of going to Lagos filled her mind with awe. She had heard a lot of stories about Lagos being a dangerous city where many criminals resided. She so heard fairy tales about Lagos being a land of opportunities where many people became rich and famous. Since she didn't know which of the opinions was right, she decided to dwell on the positive aspect, focussing on the possible opportunities that Lagos could avail her.

Like a bad dream, Kimora stood at the park, watching various travelers boarding the buses one after another. Fully loaded with passengers, the buses left the park with her staring after them. She was tempted to beg one of the passengers for money, but she could not muster enough courage to do so. By noon, most of the buses had departed , except for a few, which she was informed would start loading by evening. With her stomach getting hard from hunger, Kimora retraced her steps to the roadside where sellers, mostly women, were selling food. Afternoon has set in, and now she could inhale freshly cooked rice and stew, fried plantains, and other roadside dishes.

Unable to contain her hunger, Kimora walked up to one of the women. She was hesitant, but quite courageous, as she asked the woman if she could assist her in selling on the condition that the woman would feed her very well in return. The woman sized her up, and decided to give her a try. Before long, Kimora and the woman had exhausted the stock of food in the pots and they had to prepare some more.

Meanwhile, the woman had given kimora a full plate of white rice with stew, and although there was no meat in the food, kimora consumed it with relish, licking the plate and digesting the meal with cold water. Thereafter she decided to negotiate payment for her service to the woman.

Having observed how enterprising Kimora was, the woman, simply referred to as Aunty Rose, gladly promised to pay Kimora at the end of the day. As the sun went down, and evening drew near, their business boomed. A few customers even tipped Kimora for her cheerful disposition and prompt service. At exactly six p.m. Aunty Rose started parking her wares for the day. It had been a successful and busy day of Business. She gave kimora some money in appreciation, and asked her to meet her as early as six a.m. The following day. Kimora agreed and took a walk towards the Lagos bus park.

She was shocked when she heard that the cheapest fare to Lagos was seven hundred naira, and that was only for passengers that will share Seats with another person.

Those who pay seven hundred bucks are to sit on wooden chairs along the bus aisle, and not on proper seats as bonafide passengers.

Considering the two hundred bucks that Aunty Rose paid her and also the tips she got from their customers. Kimora realized she has to work another two days to be able to save enough money for her fare. She walked to a quiet corner and sat down. She began to cry because it was nightfall and she didn't know where she could possibly pass the night.

She knew that it was dangerous for a girl of her age to be out alone in the dark street of Onitcha, a town known for nocturnal crimes, especially pilfering and robbery. She said a quick prayer, and asked God to forgive her for disappointing her mother and chief Adekunle, whom she guessed must have been furious at her disappearance.