[Story] Love, Lust And Lost

8 years ago

[Story] Love, Lust And Lost

The bus rattled along in full speed, offsetting the sand on the road. Dust rose up to the air in a magical form, as if a magician was performing some `the more you look, the less you see.’ The vision of the bus was blurred to the bike(motorcycle) that was in its pursuit.

Then sharply, the bus took a left turn to the Cameron street and zoomed ahead. Fowls (hens) who had been picking with their beak flew up, landed and cocked/crackled – racing away from danger.

The street was deserted as it was well known – Ikoyi was a quiet place. An area were lovers would enjoy the bliss of ever falling in love. Lips would come in contact and before knowledge, breeze/wind would blow into lovers ears to tickle their s£nsat!on.

There would be hurried movement of trying to pull each other’s dresses; remove his boxers and her pants and bra. Then with total privacy the environment offered, the thrusting would commence and m0ans would play rhythm to it.

After they might have had a good taste of each other, let’s say for an hour – they would have no clue how the breeze/wind and silence of the surrounding would have drifted them into slumber.

Yes, the place was so quiet and deserted. The people who stayed there were mostly europeans or those Nigerians who had made it big. They were only at home in the evening and if they were travellers, they wouldn’t be around till it was weekend.

Only housekeepers and gatemen would be left at home to do whatever they want. You’ll see most of them taking `ogogoro’ sellers into their boys-quarters to have a `quicky.’ If they were lucky to meet a very generous lady – she might decide to die there.

“Na here I go die o, arh!!!, you sabi f^ck well well,” they would say as if they were Mario.

As the bus sped on, dogs barked at nothing. May be they barked at the dust; only them knew but many held the believe dogs often see ghost or bad things and react. Most of our grannies often tell us “Dogs only bark at people with evil thoughts or evil people.”

David’s bike appeared from the corner as it turned sharply as if it were a power bike used at F1 racing. It sped on to catch up with the bus which doesn’t even look it would catch. There was about 120yards setting them apart. The sound of the bike reignited `Voom’ and the man gave a more determined chase – as the road wasn’t as bad as that they had just got out from.

Gatemen in the area who had heard the sound of speed and the dogs bark, opened their gates to stare at what was happening. Is this a race course?
Some covered their noses as the dust spread to where they stood watching.

Other gatemen who had in the past witnessed or had heard about armed robbers; police pursues; and events of stray bullets didn’t come out from their gatehouses. Many of them peeped at a slight opening.

They were left wondering what the chase was all about. They pondered wide about possibility of a robbery attack somewhere or somehow, something related to it. Yet, they couldn’t guess much. This, was no police pursuing the bus. Might be some LASTMA, they thought.

On the bike, David was thinking why he hadn’t collected the jazz his priest had wanted to give him before coming to Lagos. He remembered the priest had said it was “Agbe’fo.” That is, a jazz that make one disappear.

He regret why he hadn’t collected it. He wouldn’t have needed to chase this bus on a bike. Might have just been for him to say some few words or do some few signs and he would find himself inside the bus, right beside the driver.

Although the priest had explained to him very well it was a protective charm but he turned it down saying, the ones he had given him was protective enough – as there was `chuk and bounce and infliction ring.’

The priest had said it was part of it. He mostly did the charm for drivers, especially Danfo drivers who embark on inter-state journey. The charm was meant for emergency, in case the bus lost control or caught fire, the driver would have disappeared before there was a crash or explosion. It will have to be only the passengers that would be victims of the crash except someone as fortified as the driver was, was also on the bus.

He bit his lips as he held on tight to the bike. He had told the priest he was not going to be a Danfo driver or even a driver at all in Lagos. He was going to school and he rejected it.

“If toh say I don collect this thing now, I for use am this kind time o!” He regretted.

Once the driver had started to ride on a tarred road, he saw Fatimah and Mariam so tiny from afar through the back wind-screen.

They didn’t know who was on the bike as it was still very far away but they could see a bike was chasing the bus. A certain sense of rescue came to their mind but they were still not at rest.

“Help! Help!! Help!!!” They shouted at the top of their voices yet it was all enveloped in the four corners of the bus.

They knocked, clapped/slapped and did everything at the wind-screen with their palms, fist but all were ineffective. It couldn’t stop the bus running or the person from kidnapping them.

Their faces were completely full of tears, sweats and snorts. They had become so soon, some 4 or 5 years old baby – crying all out when they were pinched or were being bitten by ants, they couldn’t express themselves to their parents.

Their eyeballs seemed to have adjusted, move out of their usual places. They were swollen due to, too much of tears. Seriously, they had both ‘pee`d’ on the body. They were so young and had never experienced such before. It was the highest form of traumatic torture you could give girls of their age. Only heaven know how they would survive it!

To Be Continued…