CHAPTER 3

Yanking off his brown woolen towel from the hanger beside the dismantled electrical appliances, Bode Thomas crouched, picking up a candlestick from the cemented floor.  The whitish wax was still drooping as it smeared the back of his palm in collision with his brown skin. Bode rose, walking towards the curtain briskly as he shoved it aside; The clouds were yet to glitter or showcase it's ever bright light and  darkness subdued the ambience which was yet to subside but for the glimmering stars which had his for dawn has bodily appeared. The rooster with its shriek voice cried out while he grimaced with his ears - bare to the angry retorts from his chatty neighbors. Bode hastingly spread his bedcover on the tiny bed reclining on the floor, his towel resting on his poised arms . Monday as the first day of the week was always hectic and full of stress and bustle, he was aware of being apt for an herculean task this day, his battle and squabble with his lousy neighbors always emerged as the first on his rigmarole. 

        "Glory! I'm a living being. " Bode Thomas mumbled, yawning. He could resort  to lay his head on the cotton pillow and rise after hours; he could sit and nod in relish of his favourite jamz, he could also saunter and settle at the mechanic workshop down the street and munch on bread and beans while they discuss politics and country issues but Monday was expected to be spent wisely for time to all, was precious. 

         "Life is a battlefield! " Bode mused. Two years after his corps service, he could recollect how he scuttled and trekked the nook and crannies of Lagos for there was no street he hardly know with his files held tightly under his dripping armpits and his shirts - sweat-soaked while with much disdain, he gazed at the clouds beckoning unto his maker for an help and loathing his present situation aftermath. His joy was full until he lost his job as a secretary due to a deceptive plot devised by one of his co-workers yet the vitality to keep thriving till he receives a white collar job keeps tickling him. After much toil and hustle, a work as a salesman was all life offered him afterwards. 

          Bode silently stepped into his Prada slippers, grabbing a bucket as he banged the door with haste. He sweared, seeing the assembly of neighbors and some mothers holding their kids tight with a scrub clasped around their right hand and their other hand dipped into a pail of water. Bode watched the kids stamp they feet as they leapt out for joy with their eyelids closed while they squint their faces in a bid to protect their eyes from contact with the bathing soap. 

        "Morning. " Bode Thomas muttered greetings, his ears almost bleeding at the boisterous noise of a grumbling woman in squabble with another lady. She had a wrapper around her waist, gesticulating and relating to the others, a past experience. A man with wrapper tied around his neck spatted with his teeth clenching a chewing stick while the lousy woman ran off with arms hanging in the air. 

        "It's early morning, learn to let your saliva enter that gutter. Don't spat on me! I'm yet to go to shop and I don't want badluck!" she shouted. 

        "Bad luck you say? I'm no bad luck, woman. " the middle aged man answered. 

          "Indeed! " she scorned. 

      With worries and rage,  the neighbours grumbled awaiting the occupant in the bathroom and toilet to take his/her leave. Bode Thomas reclined his bent back on the fading wall of the bungalow in which he lived with the others, the white paint being washed away and the walls left with a faded grey colour. 

         "Time is precious." Bode exclaimed again, humming. 

    The lousy woman tucked her hand round her wrapper, placing complaints on how some people spend much time in bathroom ignoring the ones who were waiting for their turn. 

         "Who's in! It's getting late, I've got a lot to do today! " A woman rinsing her child's frame complained, her gaze apprehensively at the door. They all grumbled derisively, announcing their task for the day. 

          The glee portrayed on the face of the neighbor as a young, fair skinned Iady stepped out was inexpressible. With hurry, the fat lousy woman scurried as some almost stumble leaving some panting heavily as she ushered the others to stay back and wait for their turn.

       The others sighed with relief, crouching and lazing on fences and pavements.

"Bode, please help your brother buckle his shoes. I need to put on diapers for his kid sister. " Bode heard one say, he scowled and turned around with dismay. If it wasn't Mama Samuel, who then will it be, he thought.

                 "When it comes to helping them do things, they treat you as a relative but if you need their help; it's vice versa. " Bode mumbled, squatting down with the hem of his tied wrapper brushing the cemented floor. He winced, watching the little boy stare at the tufts of hair on his chest.

               "Samuel, tell uncle thank you. Go in and bring out your bag. " her voice cracked, smacking her baby's bums as she rested her hands on the soiled diaper, putting it aside. 

                 Bode rose, perspiration on his cold face. He nearly tripped, stepping aside for a fat lady who ran past him with a paint pail clasped tightly by her small, round fingers. She hurries, her steps like one showcasing her feat by dancing her native dance almost falling on the man who seemed to have decide to wash his teeth for an hour. 

                   "Ohh! Go ahead woman! " the man complained, his steady gaze on her as she went backyard with haste.

        "Lagos and its occupants! " Bode laughed.

                                                 ****

      Linda Solanke trudged towards her office, her right hand in the air with hair swept up high and a sunglass resting on her pointed nose. She waved off some workers as they slightly bow their heads to greet; she could see  the glimmering red shirts of some cleaners some feets away from where she stood with their bent backs and mopping sticks immersed in pails. She surmised how  her father, Ronald Solanke's face would glisten if the contract which the company her dad assigned her to amongst his companies was signed and awarded to her. She gasped, recounting on how she had to put in much efforts and strive enough, Tinu Solanke was a strategist, cunny yet crafty with top notch skills and a persuading spirit. When Ronald assigned her as CEO of his second company, Linda was compounded of fear even though she had the best company to herself. The Elites company and Ronbi Enterprise was regarded as one of the international companies. 

          "At least, she's still being reasonable unlike her brother. Crazy folks. " Linda mumbled, guessing the young and crazy Jimi Solanke, second child to Bambi Aamah Solanke was probably in a Lamborghini or trip to a MusicFest since it was summer time in the States and it will take months before he travel for his unfinished course. Linda's fear heightened more, realising how Bambi could be so deceptive with Tinu inheriting some attributes from her. She smirked, remembering the time she called her gallen angel at 8 and her father's surprised facial expression as he angrily rebuked her. 

        Responding to some workers, she scuttled more - dashing into an office after beckoning unto the secretary to inform all workers about the meeting to be held during noon. Linda Solanke settled down, breathing softly with her hands on the stowed files. Linda bowed, her face in her hands. 

          "There's much to sort out and see to! " she pursed, narrowing her eyes.She heard a faint knock and with little fury, she sighed after beckoning unto the one behind the door to step in. Linda saw her flinch and it made her face lighten up with smiles for joy of being highly regarded and revered by her workers. She wasn't the type of boss to share personal issues with or one whom joke could crack up when told. Linda smirked, surveying the tall, slender woman in black office gown as she clutched files tightly.

                   "So? " Linda questioned with raised brows.

                  "These are the files related to our earlier partnership with the newly renovated company. " The lady answered surly. 

                 "Do put it down and work on other necessary things, Franca " Linda snapped, faking a smile as she silently watch her leave. Her phone beeped and in haste, she scourged her bag bringing it out with her face glimmering; realising the caller was her friend Cynthia Jackson. 

        "Hi Cynthia! How has your Monday been. " she questioned, beaming;  her fore-fingers drumming the office table as she cross-legged with her gaze at an opened file sighing at the sight of flying papers across the room. Linda appallingly stood, dropping the files picked up the papers and placed them on the table. 

        "You mean the Cargo Ship Company brought the goods you've been waiting for the past few months! " she yelped, beaming. Linda grinned, realising her friend's voice was cracking and in a split second, she couldn't hear her talk.

             "Could be the network though. " she mumbled, sighing loudly. 

                

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