Apart from accidentally pricking himself twice with the needle he was using to stitch his trousers by the light of the dimming lantern, he had also managed to slap himself twice, no thanks to the horde of mosquitoes that decided that his ears made a perfect audience for their music.
"Ouch" he exclaimed. He had pricked himself again. He sucked out the blood that surfaced and examined the stitching he made on the cloth. "This should suffice, at least for a while” he muttered to himself. He laid down on his bed after hanging the trouser by a hook to the wall.
He thought of the events of the day. He almost got discouraged at the number of "we'll get back to you" which most often than not, was politely used to tell you that your likes weren't needed. A tear escaped the corner of his eye, when he remembered the disdainful look that the gateman of the company he went to for interview gave him. He also remembered the push from the crowd as he was struggling to board a bus, which led to the rip in his trousers.
He brushed it off and picked up his Bible to read. He opened it randomly and his eyes fell upon a verse in the book of Proverbs. He read it aloud to himself. "Seest thou a man diligent in his business? he shall stand before kings; he shall not stand before mean men." It wasn't his first time of reading that verse. He wondered why that verse was coming to him at that time. He then knelt down at his bed and begged God to intervene in his matter.
What he didn't know was that that one-sentenced prayer that he made with tears in his eyes, and faith in his heart, had set in motion. a series of chain reactions that would soon come to manifestation. He then slept off deeply.
He jerked awake the next morning at 7:45am, to the sound of the grinding machine of the woman behind his window. He looked at the wall clock and screamed. "Jesus! No no no no no" he said repeatedly. He put his two hands on his head while dashing frantically round his tiny room.
"Where is my shirt and shoes?" He was almost putting them on before he remembered that he hadn't taken his bathe. He thought of the queue that would be outside their rented building bathroom. He carried a bucket of water, picked up his toiletries bag and dashed to the uncompleted building in front of the house. He hid in a corner and took his bathe under three minutes. The woman de-husking melons on the verandah laughed at him, as he ran back to the house.
He dashed out of the house in a record time of ten minutes. He was to go for an interview at 9am at a company on the island. He thought of the Lagos traffic and shook his head pitifully at himself.
"Why should i wake up late today, of all days?" He queried himself. He was halfway to the bus stop when he remembered that he didn’t pray that morning. He quickly muttered few words of prayer and continued to trek on.
The last luxurious bus left just as he was about entering the bus stop. He stomped his foot angrily on the ground and put his two hands on his head. He suddenly looked up and spotted a skeletal bus in the distance, surrounded by an halo of dust. He waited for it and hopped on when it arrived. He then stated his destination. After the usual "wole pelu change e" that was typical slang of Lagos conductors, he discovered that only a small stool was used to hold down one of the pedals. In addition to that, the engine made a coughing sound every two minutes or so. He knew he was done for, but he continued to "rugged" it by faith.
He purchased a gala sausage roll and pure water from a roadside hawker and paid through the window. "At least. that would give me energy for the trek of life that I'm going to make today" he thought.
Anticipate the concluding part tomorrow, as we learn what becomes of the protagonist.
