Pebbles
The sky had taken on an unusual color, almost as dark as Ivie’s mood. The market women looked up, fearing the imminent downpour, and tried to shuffle between getting their wares to dry ground and attending to the teeming crowd of customers.
Ivie, on the other hand, was unbothered by the sudden change in weather. If anything, she needed a good reason to not cut up vegetables for rude and uncouth strangers. She always fumed at how unappreciated her vegetable cutting skills were, even by her own mother. So she resorted most times to doing as terrible a job as she could afford, without losing customers. They never noticed though. It was all the same for them.
She looked through her phone for the umpteenth time, checking for unread messages from ChiChi, her childhood friend who had just come back from the university. You see, she was always way ahead of ChiChi – in school, sense, and even boyfriends. She had even started wearing push-up bras before ChiChi had any use for them and yet, in the one thing that mattered the most, ChiChi had surpassed her. It was her seventh year at home.
She had become a regular customer at the Cyber Cafe two streets away from her house. Each year the Jamb portal opens, they always expected her to show face and buy yet another form, like old times. And for the past seven years, she has not faltered. ChiChi only had to wait four years, which was unfair to Ivie, seeing as a doorpost is arguably smarter than ChiChi. But then, Ivie consoled herself constantly with the assumption that ChiChi had slept her way into becoming an undergraduate. She put herself on a moral high ground, and no amount of failure could topple her.
‘Hey, how much are your vegetables?’
Ivie looked up from her phone to see a girl who she assumed was probably several years younger than her standing in a very haughty manner, and touching the leaves with her fingertips.
‘Madam, don’t touch my leaves, biko,’ She spat out in anger.
‘Why are you screaming? Is that how you attend to your customers?’
‘Is that how you approach people that are older than you?’ Ivie retorted, her discolored face presently distorted in a very freakish manner.
The girl chuckled and clapped her hands in shock. ‘Na wa o! Problem no dey finish. Please grind your vegetables and drink, old cargo.’ With that, she walked away from Ivie’s mother’s stall before Ivie could launch a lethal attack.
‘Idiot! Ashawo!’ Ivie screamed after the girl who was already walking away.
Whatever misfortunes Ivie experienced on the way, she attributed to her inability to gain admission into a school. The scenario with this young customer included. She clucked her tongue in regret, claiming that that customer would never have talked to her like that if she had been in the University. Almost like the title ‘undergraduate’ would have been boldly inscribed on her forehead. But knowing Ivie and her need for constant validation, that wouldn’t be the last thing she would do.
Her phone rang. It was ChiChi.
‘Ivie, where are you?’
‘I dey my mama shop oh.’
‘Today of all days? I thought we had plans.’
If there was anything Ivie hated most about ChiChi being in the university is how much she now speaks English. She never spat a word of English at home or even with her friends and neighbors. But just a few years in school and now she thinks herself above the Nigerian pidgin. Ivie couldn’t help but wonder how she spoke to all the officials she had had to open her legs for, to gain admission. Were they able to detect the unoriginality? Did they know she was just a pretender and didn’t speak English at home? Like a philosopher pondering on new world realities, Ivie pondered on the technicalities of ChiChi’s admission and she finally concluded that men would accept any flaw as long as they could get to feel the heat between a woman’s legs, even university men.
‘I’m sorry. My mother insisted I come to the shop.’
When ChiChi spoke English unnecessarily, Ivie always ensured she adjusted accordingly. She made it a point of duty to show ChiChi that she didn’t need a university education to be able to speak fluent English. She always gave herself a mental pat on the back when she was able to prove to her friend that she graduated top of their class seven years ago and she had not lost the spark.
‘Okay. So, what do we do about the plans we’ve made?’ ChiChi sounded frustrated and unhappy about the new development.
‘Can we postpone?’
‘Okay. Can I come to the shop though?’
‘To do what?’ Ivie asked, surprised.
‘Just to hang out with you. I’m bored at home.’
‘Really?’
Two years ago, she would not have been surprised by her best friend asking to come to her mother’s shop. Then, ‘hanging out’ at her mother’s stall was as natural as breathing air. But now, she was instantly uncomfortable with ChiChi seeing her in such conditions. She looked around her mother’s 10-year old stall that had not changed one bit since it was opened.
The umbrella under which she sat was worn out and riddled with holes. Even the tray on which the vegetables were displayed was as old as the shop. She looked at herself and couldn’t look past the way she was wrapped in a pink apron that had seen better days. The market was now covered in mud because there had been a little drizzle and she couldn’t imagine ChiChi being comfortable soiling her university shoes. The flip flops she wore to the market were already covered in mud and so were her feet. All around her, she saw a thousand and one reasons why ChiChi must not see her in the market.
‘ChiChi, the market is rough right now oh. I don’t think you should come.’
‘What do you mean by rough?’
‘Erm, it rained.’
‘You could have just said you don’t want me to come. It’s fine.’ And with that, she hung up.
Ivie was livid. How did she get like this? She picked her phone and resorted to distracting herself by playing a game. She was still concentrating on the game when she felt a presence behind her. She looked back and saw a little girl stretching her neck to see what Ivie was doing on her phone. The little girl was Nne’s only daughter, a miracle child who came after several years of waiting. Somsom, as she is popularly called by the market women, was an inquisitive little brat in Ivie’s opinion.
She was always stretching her neck, trying to see what everyone else was doing. Walking around the market and taking spoonfuls of other people’s food, which they were more than willing to give it. It bothered Ivie that her mother wasn’t stricter about how far she could go into other people’s business. In fact, she felt flattered that the entire market treated her daughter like hers.
‘Somsom, leave this place now. I no get time for this your nonsense now.’
‘Aunty Ivie, I want to play a game.’ Somsom was not just inquisitive, but also stubborn and demanding.
‘I said leave this place now. I’m using my phone.’
A shriek pierced the air almost at the same time the words left Ivie’s lips. Everybody turned to the direction the sound came from and a woman was running towards the center of the market. ‘Armed robbers o! Dem dey rob bank for junction! Make una pack una load o!’
Somehow, the whole market heard her at once and everybody picked up the pace. Nobody even waited to hear further details. The market women were hysterical, trying to decide between preserving their goods or just running for their lives. Ivie, with the gift of youth still on her side, managed to pack up the vegetables and close the shop in a few minutes. She was taking her apron off when she noticed Somsom was still beside her. At that point, police sirens sounded a lot closer. The bank in question was the market branch and was merely a stone’s throw. Ivie’s mother’s shop was positioned right beside the expressway and Ivie feared that if a hot chase was going to happen anywhere, it would be right in front of her if she didn’t hide immediately.
‘Somsom, go meet your mama!’ Ivie didn’t know on who to unleash the barrel of curses she had lodged at her chest – Her mother, ChiChi, Somsom, or the child’s mother who had not thought to look for her child.
Mere seconds later, they heard a gunshot. This time, the market women made a decision fast. Save lives now, think of the goods later. Like a good little horse, Ivie concluded that Somsom probably needed a sound smack on her back to kickstart her journey to her mother’s shop and Ivie was all too willing to help.
‘Get out from here now! Useless child! Go and meet your mother.’ Ivie screamed at her, following a very wicked smack to her back. Somsom let out a loud wail and started running towards her mother’s shop, more to report the incident than obey Ivie’s instructions. Just then, Ivie saw a black Hilux van speed past the market and she could have bet her university admission that those were the robbers. As if to confirm her suspicion, she heard the police sirens getting closer and closer. She stood transfixed, unable to tear her gaze away from the spectacle.
‘Ivie, run!’ She heard someone yell behind her.
In more of a reflex response than anything else, she felt herself running. The police must have opened fire on the speeding Hilux because all she could hear afterward were gunshots. The shrieks combined with the echoing gunfire made Ivie heady. She stopped running to look behind her, to see if anyone got shot when she felt a small bump. And two more.
At first, it felt like she had been pelted with pebbles. She paused for a second, to understand what had happened. To feel the pebbles that were thrown at her. She tried to touch the pebbles and came up with blood. She felt a burning sensation journey round her body like her blood had been set on fire.
The last thing she felt was the thud her body made as it fell to the muddy market grounds.
All pictures are from Pexels and no attribution is required.
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