What could happen in half a minute? The evening city skies are roaring and the nimbus clouds are making their presence felt in an almost dark evening sky. The hustle and bustle to catch a bus was on, with the hope of a dry ride home.
Luckily, several ‘Zuri’ buses are picking and the tout vehemently shouts ‘70bob!’, so I do a skip challenge into one blue bus. Inside, blue lights are shining and the emote silence would have beautifully been broken with a Blue Ivy dad’s mixtape.
All sweaty from the frantic running, I take a quick glance at the rest of the passengers. (Well, I always scout for where to seat.)
One work of art had removed her doll shoes, too comfortable in a bus I thought, another was carrying a baby, too uncomfortable a space for the three of us. When you’re confronted with choosing between too comfortable and uncomfortable, yeah, such is life, or I’m I just petty
I took the third free seat, next to the bus door and how convenient it was, free air circulation and I get to quickly alight without the stare and glare of the ever impatient.
With an exhausted sigh, I sit taking a worried posture and worried I was. My Harley Quinn was miles away stranded by the roadside in the darkness, well she had called for another ride home but I couldn’t help worrying.
I mean, what if people noticed a Queen without her Pawns, Knights,Bishops and with a distant King to help with guard, in half a minute, she could be done for.
I did not notice the bus take off but I was brought back to the land of the living .
When asked for my end of the bargain for this journey to where has been home for me in this wide world.
I consequently decided to give him money, it was my ride home and hey, let’s give your brain a run for it’s functions; I imagined handing over my pieces of silvers.
He smiled and asked, “Not a fan of coins, huh?” and yes I wasn’t, I said smiling as I got back my fifty shillings note. Twisted, I know, because I ain’t the only one who’s been confused by theatrics on syllables such as,…do you have ten shillings I give you two hundred after giving one hundred yet the transport fee is eighty bob,aha…very big Nonsense!
Oh well, I take my phone and hey, my Harley had texted that she was safely home, and with that I slipped into slumber.
I woke up to thunderous shouts and screaming, just in time to see a woman dash for the exit of the on moving bus. The tout was still collecting bus fare and it dawned that my slumber had just been half a minute or so. I sprung to my feet and held her hand before she jumped out to the packed superhighway.
The drivers were pressing hard on their gas pedals for it was one of those days that lady traffic stood her date up.
So after all, not the best seat huh, I hold on to her as I ponder over the consequences of my very own choices. I even considered paying someone to make choices for me but hey, that didn’t matter right now.
As I pleaded with her not to jump. I heard a man actually affirming to the lady’s sentiments and that I let her jump.
The thunder in this storm finally made sense for it was his shouting and her screaming that woke me up.
Apparently, as I was in on the half a minute of my slumber, like Jesus and his disciples, the storm had ensued after she phoned her fiancé, he cancelled and sent a text saying that; he would be late, was on his way back to Nairobi and had to first report to the office before embarking on a ride home!
Such an edifice of lies!
I know, men are ‘trash’, ‘dogs’, you name it. He had been having a tattle
-tale with a damsel seated next to him. “Mr. Thunder” talked of how home did not feel like home anymore .
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And how engrossed he was on convincing the puffy-cheeked lass, that he didn’t notice his betrothed enter and take a sit behind him, next to the woman carrying a child.(remember her?) The last seat before we set off.
She was not only distraught, but her world was also crumbling at the spiteful words from her husband to be. She soaked in tears and needed no nimbus clouds to drench her clothes. Still in awe, staring and intently listening to a conversation seemingly between strangers.
She resorted to get a last save from this nightmare in front of her under the blue lights. She called the man she had saved as Hubby, to at least hear her love of her life. But no, he had cancelled the call and texted all the lies he had coined in plain sight. Unbelievable.
Mr.Thunder would have been lucky but this wasn’t that day, it was the apocalypse of their love story. She threw the phone at him and thus the commotion.
With the help of several people the matter was watered down, the lady was offered a seat in front for already there was a rift.
The once closest person was now the person she wanted to be furthest from, a ride to a place she called home now her worst nightmare.
And home didn’t seem as home anymore , she was already home for sometimes home has a heartbeat.
None of us could even want to fathom her predicament but we sympathised with her nonetheless.
Alighting, I wondered to myself, yes, my Harley Quinn was miles away from me. “Mr.Thunder” had Mrs.Thunder to be just a bus-seat behind him. What is the excuse of to live and to love as the price to pay? I guess there’s none.
Photography by Barutti.