You are depressed again, it must be the mood swings. They have become startlingly frequent these days. You sit there behind the counter, your face steely and the fingers of your hands numb. But you are determined to get through the rest of work without drama. It’s been a long day but you are not eager to go home. You just want to close the store and walk, and think.
You will think about the kid that stopped by earlier for a condom. He couldn’t have been more than fourteen. You will wonder why a beautiful lady had to slip a nail paint in her pant. You will remember that other day when a man whom you later discovered was a Ghanaian touring Nigeria with his wife on honeymoon squeezed his contact card into your palm when the wife wasn’t looking. You will think about all these things and get angry but first you want to get away from the air-conditioned air of the supermarket that is the assorted smell of shampoo and body spray and drugs and other things that you can’t place .
The screen of your phone brightens and you quickly snatch it up, it’s Alhaja calling.
“Alhaja! Good evening!” You greet but she responds like she can’t believe she is actually talking to you.
“Dammy good evening! How is market today?” She asks and you mumble the custom “fine, thank you ma”
“So where is my money?” She asks, her voice taking on a deeper pitch.
“I have sent Abu to deposit it in the bank” you reply, trying to keep up Alhaja’s pace. She can be really dubious. You wonder how she plans to deduct from your salary this month. She removed a fraction last month because as she said, a customer said you are too slow. You’ll worry about that later.
Alhaja’s call is short, she didn’t ask you to read out today’s sales record over the phone. Maybe Alhaji is home. But you are relieved. You hurriedly close up the store, and yet again look up to read the halogen sign that reads, ‘Bursary Supermarket’ and wonder yet again how Busari became Bursary. That’s also for another day anyways. You turn to the road and start walking, silently musing, basking in the demise of the sun.