MARKET SQUARE

So, I took a short online course on creative writing (yeah, you gotta keep developing the skill??) and this story was one of the assignments I turned in. The story depicted an idiom.

Well, my instructor loved it and I do too, so I am sharing?

Here goes…

After roaming and seeking directions for about twenty minutes, Runo finally found shop 16B, Bolade Street, Oshodi, Lagos. Her friend, Joyce stood in front of the shop, arranging some wares on a hanger. Runo took long strides, hoping to catch her friend unawares but slowed her pace when she heard a woman shouting on top of her voice.

“You no fit put this thing for here o, I no go gree,” the woman screamed at Joyce.

Runo quickened her pace again. If Joyce was in trouble, she’d need backup, at least someone to help pacify the angry woman.

The woman continued. “If you like, do like say you no hear me. E go better make you carry this ya yeye something comot this place before I break am to pieces,” she spat.

Runo got to her friend who was busy arranging. “Joyce,” she called.

“Runo!” Joyce hugged her tightly. “Good thing you are here. This woman is driving me crazy.”

“What’s happening? Why is she angry?” Runo looked the woman over. For her petite stature, she sure packed lots of energy.

“Let her rant,” Joyce nudged Runo towards the entrance of her shop. “You come with me.”

The woman’s mouth opened and closed; threatening hailstones,  brimstone, thunder, and  fire.

“Mama Abazu, e don do na,” Mrs Isibor of shop 16D intervened. “Make you take am easy with aunty Joyce, biko.”

Mama Abazu paced and flailed her arms uncontrollably.

Joyce’s gaze locked with hers. Invisible daggers flying everywhere. “Toothless bulldog,” Joyce muttered and entered her shop.

“Wetin you talk?” Mama Abazu charged at Joyce. “Come talk am for outside na. You no fit. Yeye woman,” she fumed.

Mrs Isibor dragged her off. “I go break this ya hanger to pieces. Stupid Idiot. Onye nzuzu.” She broke loose and was at Joyce’s entrance again. “You wear shoulder pad because you know small book abi? We go see who pass who for this market.”

Runo looked on, mouth agape.

“Are you going to wait outside all day?” Joyce called from inside. “Just ignore her,” she made circular motions with her index finger, “na skanskan.”

Mama Abazu’s eyes blazed.
“If I no report to manager, I be bas-ta-rd,” she hissed. “You use hanger block my customer eyes dem, come dey do oversabi,” she clapped deliriously, “you go hear am today.”

Two hours later, Joyce and Runo stepped out. The manager chose that moment to arrive.

“Good afternoon oga, afternoon o,” Mama Abazu called out to him.

He scowled at her. “What is it?”

“Nothing o,” her voice calmed, “I just dey greet ni.”

Joyce met her gaze, daring her.

No word.

The manager scowled some more before entering shop 16F.

“See manager o, you no say anything?” Mrs. Isibor queried.

“Na Jesus I dey respect o, my sister,” she eyed Joyce, “make yawa no gas for this place.”

Runo, Joyce, and Mrs. Isibor exchanged glances, bursting into fits of laughter.

Mama Abazu hissed. “Anuofia!”

More laughter.

*Can you guess the idiom this story depicts?

© 2016 AyotundeElegbeleye
Jesus is LORD!

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