Beatrice came out of her apartment holding a ten
litre transparent keg. She was really frustrated at
the level at which the economy and standard of
living was deteriorating. She had been on
the street
for three good years looking for a job, after
graduating with a second class from the university
of Calabar.
Now, she had finally secured a job as a secretary
on the island and the PHCN had refused to supply
power. She resides some where in Lagos. She lives
alone in a one bedroom flat apartment. It takes one
week to iron a short. they supply power for five
minutes, they take it, and that’s all for the day. So
you iron one sleeve of the shirt on Monday, the
second sleeve on Tuesday, the collar on Wednesday
and on and on. At least it was better than those
times when the power was not supplied for a week.
Those times when people who run frozen foods
store changed their line of business to roasting and
smoking fish and chicken just to avoid running into
loss.
It was a Saturday afternoon and she was sure the
queue would be very long, but she just had to get
the fuel to power her small (I better pass my
neighbor) generator to iron her cloth, because she
could not afford looking tattered on her first day at
work. When if it means putting off every appliances
in her house including the bulb.
“Bilikis” Beatrice called the cubby, short girl at the
veranda who was bust weaving someone’s hair.
Beatrice had been spending time with her after her
job hunting for the day and she had also learnt the
skill of hairdressing.
“Ore mi atata” (my very good friend) Biliki
shouted, shaking her body in a ridiculous way with
her thumps up.
“Where you won go but fuel?” She asked on seeing
the gallon. “Conoil. I hear say energy no get petrol”
Beatrice replied facing upwards to see her friend
who had already suspended the weaving of the
customers hair.
“I hear too, but them say people too much for
there”
“I know na, but I really need it” Beatrice said really
frustrated.
“OK na. Abed help me but two litres one hundred
and seventy five naira” Biliki said as she reached
for her purse.
“You be mumu oh!” Beatrice said laughing. “The
only thing wey u know na people too plenty for fuel
station, but you no know about the increase on
price abi” she continued laughing. “Aunty Biliki,
it’s now one hundred and forty five Naira. God
punish the president and all the people that voted
for him” the fair, skinny girl whose hair was being
woven swore. Her small oblong has with her long
neck made her look rather funny.
“Huh! God will not punish me oh” Beatrice thought.
Of course she was among the masses that voted in
the current president.
“Bilikis abeg I dey go”
She got to the fuel station. The queue was breath
taking. The kind of turn up you would get if it’s
announced that money would drop from the church
ceiling. Even members that had forgotten the name
of the church would attend.
Beatrice joined the queue, at the back of a teenager
who was holding two 30 liters keg. “Habah! this one
wants to buy the fuel station” Beatrice thought and
smiled to herself.
She waited patiently for twenty minutes and it
seemed like the queue wasn’t moving.
“Oga so na only one litre petrol you won buy you
carry this big Jerry can” a male voice shouted.
Everybody laughed and commented. The man they
were laughing at was putting on a blue torn singlet,
he was dressed like a roadside mechanic. “I…I…
no… no…know say e…e…don”
“Oh!oh!” Beatrice muttered. He was actually a
stammerer. Everybody roared into another round of
laughter. Beatrice joined too.
“Beauty” someone tapped her shoulder. “Godwin”
she failed. In as much as she wanted to hide her
joy on seeing him, she couldn’t.
Godwin was her Ex. She loved him but he had
temper issues. she had coped with him not until he
slapped her in the middle of an argument and she
was partially deaf for a week. She called him on
phone to bring up, she hasn’t set her eyes on
Godwin for six months.
“Godwin, I thought you died” Beatrice said trying to
sound mean even though she missed him.
“How can i possibly die? When the love of my life
is still very much alive” He teased. He was bent on
getting her back. Beatrice was the coolest girlfriend
he had ever had.
“I want you back” he pleaded when she didn’t reply
his previous statement. Gosh! She didn’t even
blush. he couldn’t believe she felt nothing for him
anymore.
“I can’t date a panel beater” she replied with
sarcasm. Godwin scoffed “but i don’t best panels”
he replied, though he understood what she meant.
He knew he had a horrible temper but after he kind
of lost her six months ago he had been working on
it.
“Abeg move jor, u dey here dey talk to bobo.”the
man in his late Thirty’s said in a rather sassy,
impolite way. Beatrice looked ahead of her and
discovered he queue has moved and she was
hindering the people behind her from joining the
others.
“Oga, na fight?” Godwin retorted.
“You better pack well oh. You come here come buy
fuel or you come look for ashi top bleep” he
increased his voices this time attracting more ears.
Beatrice understood the guy, the frustrated was
enough to make someone mad, but she doubted if
Godwin would be able to control his anger this
time. Godwin clenched his teeth and fist, trying
hard to subdue his anger. He really wanted to iron
things out with this nigga, but he was at the verge
of winning Beatrice back. He had to show her that
he had changed. He took a deep breath and let out
a fake grin.
Beatrice was about to join the queue. He held her
back. “You see, I have changed. You know me, I
would have scattered his teeth” he breathed but
Beatrice just kept quiet.
“OK! Give me another chance. Any day I raise my
voice at you, talk less of even raising my hands to
hit you, leave me forever” he continued but Beatrice
still kept quiet.
“Beautiful Beatrice” Godwin said as he bent his
knee to kneel down. He doesn’t care anymore, he
wants his girl back.
Beatrice couldn’t believe Godwin was kneeling for
her. She only imagined that in her dreams. She
loves him, so whatelse. but she still kept him
hanging.
Godwin was prepared to cry when Beatrice made no
attempt. He felt has already embarrassed himself
by kneeling down publicly for a lady, so no big deal
if he cries too.
“OK. Godwin, I will give you a second chance
because I still love you” Beatrice said after second
of total silence.
“Awwwn! Fuel station love” someone mumbled.
“Thanks, let’s go” Goodwin said. He just couldn’t
stop smiling. He wanted to do many things to her
at that moment, but they were in public
“I thought you came to get petrol” Beatrice said
with a smirk. “Yeah, but I ended up getting a
greater fuel. Beauty you are like my fuel, you keep
me going” he teased. Those words were from his
heart. “I was going to repeat Titanic with the petrol
but why do that when I can make my own love
story?”
Beatrice felt her head swelling like a piece is bread,
soaked in water. She left the fuel station all lovey
dovey with her lover that she forgot she can’t go to
work looking tarttered.










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