The Trip

Last updated on March 26th, 2024 at 07:23 am

Some love lasts forever, others for fourteen hours… 

“Zainab, hello.”

“Ma?”

“Your grandfather is sick and wants to see you before he dies.” Not shocking. Don’t get me wrong, I loved my grandpops, who we called Lulu, to death, but at 102 years, his death couldn’t be seen as devastating. Also, we’d had more than three scares within the last few years, we were all expecting the worst.

“Zainab?” 

“Ma, I’m here. I’m thinking of how to get there.” 

“Toor, just do your thing. But make sure that you are here before he dies. If not, he’ll be sad.” A sad dead man. 

“Okay, ma.” I was about to ask my mother how she was doing but she already ended the call. 

I’d been in a low mood for over a month. Since I got laid off from work unexpectedly, my anxiety had skyrocketed. My only solace was that about twenty of us got laid off and not just me. Still, it was a huge blow to me—jobless at 25, certainly not how I imagined things. 

For over three years in my job, I put in the work, many times working for more than sixty hours a week. To be dismissed with no prior notice seemed totally unfair. I hadn’t told my parents yet because I couldn’t bear to. As the sixth out of nine children, I was the only one not based in Kaduna. This decision was a source of tension for a long time in my family until my siblings supported me seeing as I wouldn’t budge. 

I was fortunate enough to have gotten a mouthwatering job offer at one of the top advertising companies in Ibadan where I served. It also came with an official car and other awesome incentives. I was more than lucky; who would refuse such? 

Back to the moment, my applications so far have been futile and though I had saved a lot since I started working, I had to be prudent. Who knew how long I was going to be broke and jobless? I picked up my phone and checked flights to Kaduna. After searching for more than fifteen minutes, I knew that I wasn’t flying. ABC transport, here I come. 

***

“Oga, squeeze that bag gently na.” I said as the worker at the bus park pummeled my bag to fit under the bus. I rolled my eyes as he gave me the stink eye. 

“Aunty, abeg go enter bus, make you no delay us.” I wanted to reply to him but I kept quiet. Lack of money makes you easily irritable. I made to move but instead stepped on the person behind me which made me lose balance. I was about to apologise when the person stretched his arms to balance me. 

“Sorry,” I said, unable to look at his face. 

“It’s fine.” He sounded as if he was smiling. 

***

The man, scratch that, the guy I stepped on outside just entered the bus and I got a proper look at him. Lean and tall. He also looked fit and clean, maybe because he was wearing a white shirt. People who prefer white clothes are freaks. Why would you go through the stress of maintaining that colour??? Oh! He had a stud on his left ear. It weirdly complemented his reserved personality. I quickly turned to look away but he caught my eyes and smiled. He was a nice person, after staining his…I looked down to see his shoes. So much for looking away. The stain from my slippers was on the edge of his white sneakers. Truly a freak. 

My seat was beside the aisle as I liked it. His was also beside the aisle but on the left almost diagonally to me. I eventually turned away from him and got lost in my broke thoughts. 

***

I wanted to fly because I hated sitting idle for a long time. We’d only travelled for three hours but I had exhausted the list of things to keep me occupied. I looked over at Mr White, whom I had been avoiding since the journey started, and saw that he was asleep. Must be nice. I shut my eyes and tried to sleep. But for the bad roads and frequent breaks in the trip, the journey should have been about twelve hours, but now I was stuck here for another eleven.

I tried sleeping, I really tried but sleep eluded me. Everything about travelling caused me anxiety. It had taken me about four hours to pack my clothes. You couldn’t tell what you’d need. I packed clothes for Lulu’s burial, then I felt bad and unpacked it. Then I remembered one time that I travelled and didn’t take enough clothes and added the clothes back to my bag. If only I didn’t lose my job. I should have prepared an alternative, but I wasn’t really considering leaving the job until I was thirty. 

“Can’t sleep?” I fluttered my eyes open. The luxurious bus was speeding through the bushes in whatever town we currently were and everywhere was dark. I turned and saw that Mr White was looking at me. I could see his eyes even in the dark.

“No, I can’t.”

“I’m surprised that I was able to sleep.”

“Why?” I looked around and saw that many people were asleep.

“Well, I’m not entirely positive about the outcome of my trip to Kaduna.”

“Oh! Sometimes I just forget that everyone has their own problem.” I wanted to say more, but I hesitated. Mr White patiently waited. I’d rather talk actually. “I lost my job.”

“Sorry about that. Were you given any reason?”

“Nothing, no heads up. We resumed on a Monday and found the mail waiting in our inbox.”

“Now, that’s cold.” 

“Yes, I guess. It’s been over a month though.”

“So what do you have planned?” I turned in my seat so I could properly face him and not break my neck, and…you guessed right, I stepped on him again. I was mortified. He started laughing instead.

“You really have something against my shoes, huh?”

“Well, who wears white sneakers for a night trip?” I played along, thankful that he had a good sense of humour.

“Really, miss…”

“Zainab.”

“Miss or Ms?”

“Why can’t it be Mrs?” 

“Are you married?” He asked, looking almost pensive.

“What if I am?”

“Then, I’m so sorry.” He looked remorseful now, I wanted to laugh but I held back.

“Sorry for?” I teased enjoying the moment. He scratched his head and looked down.

“It’s nothing. I’m sorry.” He was about to turn away from me when I held his hand and started laughing. He stared at me, a brow raised, like I had two heads.

“I’m not married. I am single, very single.” It sounded like a declaration instead of a piece of information.

“So you were pulling my legs, right?”

“You’re so easy to tease.”

“I’m glad you feel that way. I’m also single. Honestly, being alone is-”

“Excuse me!” A passenger snapped. 

“Sorry.” Mr White replied. Apparently, the bus had stopped so we could all stretch before the journey continued. We must have been so engrossed to not have known. My bladder took the opportunity to prompt me. I got up and faced Mr White.

“Khalifa.” He answered as if he knew what I was going to ask.

“Khalifa, I need to ease myself.”

“Alright.” I didn’t want to stop our conversation but I wasn’t sure that he wanted to get off the bus. I left and was about to get down when I heard, “wait up.” For whatever reason, I was giddy with excitement.

***

“So, what plans do you have now that you don’t have a job?”

“To job hunt. My friend thinks this is the time for me to face my passion and be confused as people in my age group are, but I don’t agree. I need to make my parents know that staying back in Ibadan was a great decision.”

“You stay in Ibadan?”

“Yes.” I expected him to say more, but he kept quiet instead. Khalifa seemed like a reserved person. We were sitting on an empty bench beside a suya spot waiting for the driver to call the passengers. I suddenly felt like leaning on my new friend. Friend? Could I call him a friend already? It was an odd thought, so instead, I asked him a question.

“So, what are you going to do in Kaduna?”

“I recently pitched a proposal to a company in Lagos and it was accepted.”

“You don’t look happy.”

“I’m supposed to supply trucks of ginger to a new ginger powder company but I got called the next day after the proposal had been accepted that we might not be able to produce more than a truck of ginger at the set time due to the erratic weather and bad roads.”

“This sounds really complicated.”

“It is. I’m going now to discuss with the farmers about the alternative.”

“Makes my own problem seem trivial.” We looked at each other and smiled. To my surprise, he held my hand and squeezed it.

“I like hearing you talk about your problem. And you lost your job, that’s not trivial.”

“E be like say na you dem dey wait for.” The suya man pointed to the bus. Ha! We both got up and started running in the dark. I had travelled at night many times and never risked being left behind. Khalifa could run faster obviously, he was taller than me. He stretched his hand to me and I joined my hand with him as we both ran laughing.

The driver didn’t find it funny. 

“Why you come na? You for go collect your load for our garage.” He said aggressively. I covered my mouth with my other hand to avoid annoying the driver and other passengers who must be stewing. Khalifa and I were still holding each other. 

“Sorry, sorry.” He said as we located our seats. It felt wrong to sit separately, but we had no option. So, we just switched hands and kept holding each other.

***

It’s been five years now, we never saw each other again.

He alighted before me and that was when I remembered that we hadn’t exchanged our contact. We were so engrossed with each other that we just kept talking. A few times, we remained in a comfortable silence and for the first time, I felt truly at home.

We talked about everything, our fears, most embarrassing moments, past relationships, and plans for the future. All the while, we held each other.

Lulu’s 107th birthday was coming up in a few days and I remembered him again. Khalifa. I knew he was based in Lagos, but I had no plans of moving there. If I moved there, could I even find him? By now, he was probably married or had forgotten about me.

I eventually got a job after three months in another company. After three years, I resigned to start my own fabric business. It was thriving but I missed the corporate environment which was why when I saw a Comms Lead job vacancy, I applied.

***

I dusted my skirt and opened the door to the interview room.

“Welcome, Ms…” One of the interviewers said, then looked at my documents to confirm my name, “Zainab, Ms. Zainab, welcome.” He finally raised his head, smiling. No way! It dawned on us at the same time. It was Khalifa.

***

I shook all through the interview. Khalifa!

Thankfully, I was done. I was very sure that I didn’t do well. I was about to enter my car when I heard him say, “Zainab. Please, wait.” He looked better than the last time I saw him. Literally ten minutes ago. He still had the stud on.

“Khalifa,” I said breathlessly.

“Zainab. Can I have your number first?” I was still shaking as I typed my number on his phone. He dialled my number and my phone rang. We both exhaled.

“I still have some interview sessions. I’ll call you.”

“Okay,” I replied. I wanted to say more, but I couldn’t find the words. He was about to leave, so I shouldn’t have delayed him. But, somehow we both stayed rooted to the spot. “I’m sorry.” I vaguely heard him as he planted a kiss on my lips. If I was shaky before, now add dizziness to it.

“I’ll call you in an hour,” he shouted as he ran back inside. I leaned on my car touching my lips. Khalifa.