ABBY:
You know that point where going back seems like the best option, but pride won’t let you? That was me. I was stubborn, young, foolish, and convinced the world revolved around me. Deep down, I knew returning to Chief and his wife would have been wise, but I refused. I tried calling some of the people who used to call me “princess” back when I was living the high life, but suddenly they were all busy.
“Sorry, dear. We’re travelling tomorrow.” “The guest room is full.” “I’ll call you back.”
They never did.
I was devastated. Alone. Still too proud to go back. That’s when I met Deolu.
I was sitting at a fast-food joint with a single meat pie, eating it slowly to stretch the time. I had nowhere to go, and not a kobo to my name. I even considered going back to the village, but didn’t have the fare.
Then Deolu walked up.
“Hi beautiful, you look upset. What’s the matter?” he asked.
I ignored him at first, but he was persistent.
“Can I sit with you?” he asked, then sat before I could answer.
He just stared and smiled. When I couldn’t take it anymore, I snapped, “What do you want?”
His reply? “You.”
That made me laugh.
We talked. He told me Chief never intended to cut me off entirely; he just wanted me to return. I said I knew. That’s exactly why I wouldn’t go back.
“So, do you like this new life you’re living?” he asked.
“No.”
“Then let me be your other option,” he said.
CHRIS:
After settling down to eat and rest, the guide returned with more news.
“Another truck ride is ahead. Bring all the dollars you have.”
I hesitated. I told him I had half of what I originally did. He took it without question. A girl and another guy from our group had nothing left.
The guide looked at them bluntly. “You paid us to get you this far, not through the challenges along the way. You’ll have to wait until another truck offers you a free lift.”
I couldn’t bear it. I gave up a bit more of what I had and told the guide it was for Thomas and me. Thomas was still sleeping off his fever.
At 3am, they woke us.
“The truck is ready. No talking, no movement, no sound when we arrive at the border,” the guide said.
We all climbed in. One spot remained. A man and woman from another group pleaded to join us. The truck driver asked, “Who has money?” Neither did. Then he pulled the woman aside, whispered something, and they disappeared behind some bushes. Minutes later, she reappeared and was placed on the truck.
We didn’t need to ask what happened. The man was left behind.
As we drove into the night, the truck suddenly lurched.
A loud bang. A tyre had burst.
The driver swore in Arabic. The guide explained, “He bribed the night guards not to check the back. If we’re late and the shift changes, we’re in trouble. He doesn’t have more money.”
The tyre was changed, but by the time we reached the checkpoint, dawn was breaking. The queue was long.
When our turn finally came, the driver stepped out.
Voices were raised.
“Stay still,” the guide hissed. “They’re going to search the truck.”
Oh, dear Lord… hmmm. Please leave your comments below. Thank you.
