At Dawn
As the journey lengthened, the rain intensive gradually reduced to a drizzle as the cloud horizon honorably welcomed the crawling dawn which strikes its pinky-grey strokes all across the river that is lazily curled between swarms, rocks and locally made wooden canoes.
The trailer driver slowly and steadily engaged his breaks as they approached a small town near the river. One can visibly notice the absence of real development there but it was a calm and serene environment with soothing early morning air, waving over old and cranky billboards and posters. Cocks crowed from a distance as one can smokes curling out from early morning kitchens
While she pondered along the journey, she slept off due to fatigue and her body's need for rest. As the sunset illumination brightened, Amaka blinked at its sight. Everything felt different, easier and peaceful as if unperturbed by the chaos of a city and the outside world, giving her the opportunity to live again and rejuvenate.
The driver never muttered a word until he parked the trailer near a very dusty and bushy junction.
"You will be safe here," he said, handing her a bottle of water and mint ₦2,000 notes. "Use this money and buy small food. They sell around and people here are good hearted. You won't regret your stay here." The driver said, grinning the third time as he went behind the trailer to check his back tires.
Amaka couldn't believe what's going on. She was overwhelmed and lost in thought as she held the money. Regaining herself, she ran to the driver kneeling and said, "Thank you so much Sir, am so grateful."
"No please, stand up and don't thank me. I have daughters and if in future, they are run as you did last night, I pray that someone will come to their aid just as I did to you.
She took a deep breath and still insisted by saying, "God bless you Sir."
The driver chuckled with a nod and drove off.
Realities of her situation started settling in gradually and for a moment, the serenity and noiselessness of the town engulfed her. In her soaked nightgown, she squeezed her arms around her body as she walked around, people of different ages waved at her, she saw some women who swept the front of their wooden stalls; little boys chasing stubborn goats; smokes rising from a roadside kitchen where someone fried beans flour (Akara). While men stretched near their packed motorcycles waiting for passengers.
She pondered why life here felt unperturbed by her pains and horror.
She kept walking while scanning through the area until she looked up and saw a small lodge near the riverside with faded paints, weak starlike flickering bulbs and soft music at the background. On the signpost is written, Kango Lodge, a place suitably built for travelers and secrets.
Perfect location for hiding she thought while walking into the reception.
The male receptionist welcomed her with a smile while passing a guest form to her for effective documentation.
With her trembling hands, she filled out a guest form but intentionally omitted her name.
"Your Name please?" the receptionist asked.
Her heart started pounding like a mortar. To her, using her real name will be highly unsafe but what if they demand for a means of identification? She pondered.
"Madam, you didn't fill your name," the receptionist repeated
"Oluchi," she replied. "Oluchi Igwe."
She couldn't understand why the lie flowed easily. Survival sometimes has its way of readjusting truth she thought.
He nodded while updating the form in his hand. "Your money is ₦2000 per night". This was coincidentally the exact amount given to her by the trailer driver.
She paid with the given fund. The receptionist nodded the second time, stretched his hands with a key and said "Room Six. Hold on"
He briefly went into an office behind her
Then, followed footsteps so slow, consistent, firm and familiar.
As Amaka looked up it seemed that the clock of her entire life has stopped ticking.
She couldn't believe her eyes as her breath snagged like fish caught in a hook. She froze as if under snow. Her heartbeat rhythm increased in tempo as if in a disco hall.
There her passed resurfaced as he stood, tall and well-built with clanged muscles earned through years of military trainings and disciplines.
His glow skin looked like a shade deeper from the early morning humidity. And his dark intense eyes which she once memorized like the holy scriptures was right before her with disbelief.
Segun Bayo.
The man she last saw six years ago. The man she ditched and ignored his sincere love only to marry the monster Tochi in his place.
Bayo's jaw tightened slightly, but not from anger but more like an expression of both surprise and recall of loss memories.
"Amaka!" Bayo echoed softly not as an accusation but as an enquiry for truth.
It was an exclamation that is beyond recognition. It was a mix of:
A soldier's recognition of distressing situation; A man's recognition of his lost love and a man's recognition of forgotten pains.
Amaka held her breath like someone in a swimming pool as She felt her kneels weaken and heat flowed to her cheek despite the Air-conditioner's cold.
"Bayo!" Amaka muttered with a quivered breath and cranky voice like one that just took a shot of whiskey.
In reflex, she held onto her silver purse as if it will be bridge between her fears and the current reality.
"Bayo! This can't be true. Please not here and now."
For the first time since her escape, she felt do helpless and her stomach ached uncontrollably and a mixed wave of shame and relief struggled within her until she felt very faint.
Bayo blinked, his expressions hovered through emotions that he didn't fully reveal.
Within him, Bayo thought:God no, this can't be true. Not her, not now, not after six years.
He pondered as he took another slow step toward her.
The storm outside whimpered with warnings so silent but audible:
You cannot run forever. He whispered