Yasmin alighted from the maruwa that brought her to the eatery and paid the driver off. If there was anything the accident had taught her, it was that motorcycles in Lagos were danger zones. Back home even the name babur terrified her mother and she would always tell her to avoid them at all cost and use the tricycles instead. Moreover, she only used public transport occasionally. There was always a driver on ground to take her anywhere around town.
Chop and drink looks dry!
She thought as she smoothed her maxi gown down against her body. Something she had been doing since she stepped out of the house. She had initially thought to go back and change into something else but had decided against it. The day was very hot and the pink and black flowery cotton chiffon dress was light and suitable for the weather but now she regretted it. The weather had cooled down and a gust of wind breeze blew, almost taking off her veil. The skies had also turned cloudy. It looked like it could rain soon. The very freestyle of the gown made it easy for the breeze to play with and she constantly had to tug it down to prevent it from being lifted. She had worn a short inner black dress because the gown was a bit see-through but even at that she would be mortified if the dress was blown up to reveal her undergarment.
She discarded the horrifying scene from her mind as she moved closer to the eatery. She noticed about four people under the thatched shed and there were no speakers in sight. Soft music was a norm for the customers who chose to sit outside.
Kai, what happened here.
They usually had more dine-in customers on Saturdays, unlike the weekdays.
They were probably inside. Some prefer it to sitting outside.
She thought as she headed for the back door, made for staff, the owner and her guests.
“Yesmin!”
Ben, her colleague called out, smiling. In his hands was a tray with dirty dishes he was taking to the kitchen.
“Ben!”
She called back and waved at him. He made a signal to her that he would see her later. There was another order to be taken after he dropped the dirty dishes. She nodded her understanding and walked towards the boss’s door. A gentle rap of her knuckles on the door earned her an answer to go in.
Madam Freda Dalami was seated on a couch in the office. Remote in hand scrolling through channels. The first time she was here she had thought to herself that the large room didn’t look like an office, even with a desk, three seats and a computer at the corner of the room directly facing the door. It looked like a haven of enjoyment. The whole of Chop and Drink was a relaxing spot. But today it felt different. Like the whole restaurant had lost its spark.
What’s with this place today?
“Ah ah, Yasmin. Sannu da zuwa. I thought you were no longer coming. I was already thinking of leaving after waiting an extra hour.” She said as she patted the seat for Yasmin to sit.
“Thank God, I met you then ma. I’m sorry I came late. Ina yini?”
She smiled as she took the seat. Her boss usually closed as early as 1 pm except on a few occasions. It was 2:20 already.
“Lafiya lau Yasmin. It’s alright dear. Ya jiki? Da sauki ko? You look better even.”
Madam Freda complimented her. Her thick Hausa accent could convince even a native that she was originally Hausa but she was born in Kaduna to Yoruba parents, both from Ekiti State. She later got married to a Kaduna man.
“Alhamdulillah. I’m very okay. Thanks for everything ma. I really appreciate the care.”
“Haba Yasmin, Ki gode wa Allah. I thought you would want to spend an extra week before resuming.”
“About that ma...”
She adjusted her sitting position so she could face Madam Freda.
“...I'm here to resign ma.”
There was a quick look of surprise and disappointment on the woman’s face before she asked.
“Why? Is everything alright?” Yasmin’s heart sank at the fleeting emotions she registered on her face. To be honest she even expected a lot more from the older woman.
“Hmmm...You must have heard.”
“Heard what ma?” Yasmin asked, her face a ball of confusion.
“We are closing down Chop and drink. My husband and I are moving back to Kaduna.”
Shocked and dumbfounded Yasmin watched as the woman talked about retirement and how she and her husband had had a fulfilled life. Their two children were all grown and out of the country. Her husband who just retired wanted them to move back home. Kaduna was home to both of them because they both had loved ones there. And this plan they had been making even before Yasmin joined the restaurant.
Wow! That was all she could say. With the current insecurity very concentrated in that region of the country. She’d not thought anyone away for so long like them would want to be back there at this moment. But then, Home is where your loved ones are. Kaduna is home to them.
“May God direct your affairs ma. When are you leaving finally?”
“In three months, da yardar Allah. We still have a few things to sort out.”
Yasmin nodded “Allah ya kiyaye hanya. It all explains what I noticed on entering the eatery.”
Madam Freda laughed before reaching out for Yasmin’s hands. As she held them she gaze right into Yasmin’s eyes. Something that made the younger lady feel a bit uncomfortable.
“I hope you will be fine?”
Yasmin nodded.
“InshaAllah.” She hoped she’d be.
“You are a very good person. I saw that since the first day you came here. I see the trouble in your eyes. The indecision and fear. May God direct your affairs child. I don’t know what you are here to find but God knows. And I pray He gives you even better than what you seek and much better than you deserve. May your heart find happiness and may you know it when it finds it...”
Tears had already pooled in Yasmin’s eyes. It was like Madam Freda saw right into her soul. The woman had been the only mother figure she had since she arrived in Lagos and now she was leaving. She’d come here to say her byes but instead, it was her boss saying her farewell. Maybe a final goodbye. Because who knows if she would ever see these people again. The world could be a big and small place at the same time.
...To be continued.
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