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Market
Affairs
A short story by Chioma
Iwunze
A few days after I had my lumpectomy, I paid Uto
a visit to assure him that I had not died of
breast cancer as he had feared. His mother’s
provision store which stood beside the huge
black gate was situated along the road leading
to the market: I sat on an old white
three-legged plastic chair in front of the shop
waiting for his brother, Yaknor, to call him.
It was a big market day and
consequently, the roads were busy: huge bunches
of green plantain and bananas arrived on rickety
bicycles, gallons of red palm oil arrived on
motorcycles and sometimes on the
seemingly-fragile necks of lean, wrinkled rural
women; large bowls of fresh green vegetables
rolled into the market place sparkling under the
dazzling sun; goats bleated ‘gbaaa gbaaa’ along
the sun-burned road, occasionally resisting
being tugged by the farmers; a flock of white
birds neatly arranged in a green wheel barrow
smiled in like sacrosanct royalties.
“Buy your fine, fine tops and shirts, 50, 50
naira. Very cheap. Select and pay; select-pay
sele-pay, sele-pay. When your boyfriend see you,
him go shout ‘no one but you’,” A fat lady
across the road beckoned as she tossed a heap of
clothes in the air as skillfully as a juggler
would so that the clothes landed on the mat she
had spread on the floor. Some young girls
gathered around and began to check out the
clothes. They were thick second-hand clothes
which were unfit for the Nigerian weather.
“So it’s really you.” Uto
said, startling me. The smile he flashed
revealed his gapped-teeth. He had a smile too
disarming for a boy’s, I had always told him.
“Yes, it’s not a ghost. Feel me.” I replied in a
spasm of mild embarrassment, stretching out my
arms.
Uto chuckled as he wrapped me in a tight hug
that almost choked me. I struggled out of his
grip and gasped for breath; pre-teens hawking
sachet water in buckets gaped at us.
“Oh, it’s good to see you again. You look
healthy. The toilet has been my closest friend
for the past few days. Only God knows what I’ve
eaten.” He said with his long arms gesturing
briskly like a fan’s blades. It got me wondering
how he would fare in a fight. “God! Weather’s
terribly hot.” He said offhandedly as we took
our seats.
“Sorry, hope you’ve taken drugs. Been having a
similar experience”
“I’ve taken drugs. And it’s good to hear that I
have a companion in misery. Misery loves
company, you know?”
“Sadist!”
There was a mini-stampede:
a group of women chased a motorcycle that
brought a rural woman and her gallons of oil in
order to get a fairer bargain: The oil costs
less before it hits the market square.
“Not fair. So tell me about
the cancer.”
“Ignoramus! It was only a
lump. Though, malignant but I detected it early
and removed it. Shikena!”
Uto’s countenance dulled.
“But can you blame me? I
lost my elder sister to that dreadful disease. I
watched her struggle to breathe her last. Abeg
spin another yarn, jare. Oh, the heat!”
A pregnant mad woman ambled
past, soliloquizing. The huge mass of hair
extensions scruffily tied to her hair dangled
like a backpack. A swarm of flies buzzed after
her.
“See, what sane men do? How
can they have sexual relations with a mad
woman?” I asked disgustedly
“The devil gives nothing
for free. I hear people get rich from doing
that. I’ve been nursing that thought lately” Uto
laughed aloud. I shot him a wicked glance that
seemed to say, ‘moron!’
A group of young men had
cornered her and a crowd was slowly gathering
around them.
“Come here! Where did you
sleep last night?” An albino asked. His brown
beady eyes darted about like a restless pair of
mice.
The mad woman laughed as
she clapped her hands mockingly.
“I consign you? Am I your
wife?” she retorted with hands akimbo.
Spectators roared in laughter.
Where is this going? Uto
and I signalled each other.
“Snake dey your hair.” said
the albino.
“Abasi Mbok!” screamed the mad woman.
The black snake peeked at
us from the mass of hair extensions. There was a
brief commotion.
“Lie down!” The albino and a stocky mechanic
ordered.
The woman prostrated
without hesitation. With a stick, they gently
removed the snake and killed it.
“That woman used to be a
nurse at the General hospital! Oh, life!” Uto
had said as the mad woman fled the scene in
tears.
The sky rumbled and rain
drizzled. The traders packed their wares. Uto
and I smiled excitedly. As the raindrops hit the
sun-baked soil, an edible aroma filled the air.
We both stuck out our tongues and tasted the
rain.
The End.
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