I was on the balcony of my apartment enjoying the evening breeze. The building which houses my apartment is two poles from the community junction. Watching the coming and goings. The street hawkers being patronized.
A young woman with a baby, probably in her late 20's caught my attention; for she appeared to be worried,confused and tired. I wondered what seem to be her challenge.
She stooped an okada man (a commercial motorcyclist), talked to him pleadingly but the man abruptly drove away. At this point,she was in tears;her baby began to cry.
My attention was shifted to her appearance to at least know if she was mentally alright. She wore a pink skirt with a purple blouse, the white shoes she wore was torn on the fronts and sides, the turban on her head was dirty for she even removed it to wipe her baby's nose and placed it back on her head. Her nails were dirty with charcoal rubbed on her hands, the skirt and blouse on her body had black stains and she carried a 'Ghana must go' bag; she seem fine to me.
At first,she looked as though she had no idea of where to go and that had made me think she was probably mentally unstable; including her appearance. As I had gone down from my balcony, moved close to hear her conversation with another okada man. I realized she knew exactly where she was heading.
She stopped another okada man;now I was interested on why she stopped so many and they all drove off. I moved closer to hear their conversation. I caught up with her saying she was with only 200 naira but had 100 naira to pay. I paid for her fare;between sobs she thanked me and went her way.
Why she looked like the weight of this world was on her;I do not know. I wish I had asked.
NOTE: There is a continuation of this story and it's written by me.
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