She Saved Me
It was two weeks ago at Ikeja, Nigeria. I had travelled to Lagos from Abuja to accompany my mum to Murtala Mohammed Airport to board a flight to the US. My elder sister, Anulika had just given birth to a baby boy in the States.
I had just said bye bye and safe trip to my mum, who thereafter found her way to the Departure lounge, when I discovered that I was terribly hungry. I wanted to pick a cab to Festac town to see a female friend who is an IT student in a multinational company but my stomach kept rumbling as if I had not eating for days. I had ‘flung’ a taxi down when it occurred to me to eat before going to Festac_____ the worms in my stomach were squawking. I hurriedly entered a Fast-food joint very close to the Airport, sat down and took time to go through their Menu. As someone who seldom patronizes Fast-food joints, some of the things I saw in the menu where very strange to my eyes; some of them like ‘Hotdog’ sounded even stupid when loosely translated to my mother tongue_______ Igbo.
To cut the long story short. When I finished eating, I put my hand in the back pocket of my trousers only to discover that my wallet was no longer there. Goodness gracious, I had been robbed!
I excused myself, went to the toilet and searched my pocket thoroughly but my wallet which also had my ATM card was nowhere to be found. As I stared from one end of the eatery to the other, my vision became blurred. I was thinking of what next to do when I sighted a man in a nice suit somewhere close to my table and decided to explain my ordeal to him.
Before I finished my story to this supposedly good looking gentleman, he called me a corporate beggar and left in a fit of anger. I was ashamed of myself, and thought of how stupid I was not to have noticed my missing wallet on time. Maybe it was the biting hunger that made me lose my feelings.
Sitting on my table, and unwilling to finish the last crumb of food on my plate, it occurred to me to call Naomi, the girl I had wanted to see at Festac. The moment I called and told her the fix I was into, she told me that she had no money and that her GM was around hence she can’t come to my rescue. I was totally confused, and began to perspire the moment I saw the waiter look towards my direction. I sat down for an endless number of minutes thinking of how best to deal with the situation. Should I walk up to the waiter and offer him my wristwatch in lieu of the two thousand naira I would have paid for my food?
Just then I turned toward my right and saw a girl that was sitting all by herself. I took a deep breath before I decided to walk up to her table.
“Good afternoon, my name is Ekene; can sit with you?
“Why not,” she said with a smile.
After introducing myself, I took time to explain my predicament to this gorgeous-looking young lady. Before I even finished my story, she offered me four thousand naira and said I should pay for my food and use the rest to sort myself out.
“My God, this is not happening!” I said excitedly as I shook her hand repeatedly.
A total stranger came to my rescue. A girl I didn’t know from Adam gave me four thousand naira when I just asked for two. I felt like giving her a hug but what baffled me the most was that she refused to give me her phone number when asked for it. When it was obvious that she didn’t want to give me her number, I asked for her bank account number promising I would reimburse her as soon as possible but she refused to give it to me as well. She said I should consider the money she gave me as a gift. My goodness, which girl in Nigeria would give a guy she hardly knows such an amount of money in this recession. When I insisted on having her phone number, she asked me to give her mine instead. I did, and thereafter, paid for my meal and dashed out of the eatery.
It’s been two weeks now, and I’m still hoping that she would call so that I’ll show her how grateful I am. Juliet (that’s the name she gave me), please if you’re reading this try and call me.