Dee Love Paragraphs

Best Love Story to Read: The Two Boys And The Smart Market Woman

Best Love Story to Read

Ughelli got so hot that if you even thought about money in your head, the boys would see it and try to steal that one too. Those boys could sniff money out anywhere you kept it, they could see through walls, it seemed.

Soon, people started taking their money to the banks in cement bags, food flasks, indomie cartons, just about anyway to escape the boys.  It was a terrible time for everyone, no exceptions – except you are police, a mad person, or dead.

Then one old woman who owned a grocery store that was doing quite well in the small market got so ingenious. When business was coming to an end in the evening, she would sweep her storefront, gather the waste in a heap and put it all in a paper bag. Then she hops a bike with it, giving every onlooker the impression that she was throwing it away at the dump site on her way home. But guess what else is in the bag of dirt, and waste – cash.

Two young boys who had been expelled from school so many times no school wanted them anymore came to sit opposite a certain store every evening. Nearby, a woman sold fried fish. This was the third day of sitting and watching. They’d buy fried fish, 20 naira each and nibble at it while they watched the wonderful event that went on in the store across the road.

Today was the last day of the show for them. They return the fish Sellers suspicious look with one of theirs that said, ‘if you can’t beat us, join us.’

One had a long mark on his forehead where he’d been cut in a fight and the other one – well, most of his teeth were missing, that gave him a memorable look when he smiled.

He smiled now, “see am, she don dey sweep again.”
The one with the mark on his face pushed the rest of his fish into his mouth, in a muffled voice he said, “oya, make we dey kawa.”

Today, the old woman was not riding on a bike. Big mistake.

The sun had gone out of sight, it was getting dark. She greeted everyone as she happily strolled down the street, she greeted the shoemaker, the pepper sellers, the crippled mechanic and the truck from beneath which his greasy face poked. She was happy. Everyone in Delta state was getting robbed except her. She greeted the houses and flying birds of the heavens. Her bag of waste dangled beside her while two shadows followed closely behind.

The two boys caught up, one on each side and they began discussing with her, much like those disciples in the bible who were on their way to somewhere and a stranger who turned out to be Jesus met them and started sharing the good news. Only this boys weren’t anything like Jesus, nor were they evangelic in any way.

“Mama, give me that bag.” Said the one without most of his teeth.
“Which bag?”
“The one you hold so.” He flashed a gummy smile.
The one with a mark on his face touched the old woman with a small gun. The old woman lurched.
“No stop. Dey waka dey go.” He ordered.
Mama continued walking. And shaking badly.

“Oya give me the bag naa.”
“Na dirty dey inside o.”
“Ehen?”
“Yes.”
“I like dirty, bring am.”
“My pikin, dirty no good.” She opined.
“Oya give us make we helepi you troway am.” He offered sincerely.
The mama mumbled, “Hay, oghene meh.”

They were now rounding a corner. Those who saw the three figures would later say it looked like a grandmother with her grandchildren were going for a walk. In a way, it was so.

The one with the gun pushed it more forcefully into the mama’s side. “Mama you dey waste our time.”
“No vex ehn, but na dirty I carry o.”
He said vehemently, “mama nor lemme ves o, gimme the bag before I gee u bullet for belle o, ehen.”

That did it. The old woman gave the bag up and the two boys disappeared into a dark corner to be seen no more.

The old woman dropped on her big bottom, ‘flop’, and began wailing in Isoko.

But in those days if you told people who always saw you sweep and pack, that the bag of waste also held cash from your sales of the day and that that bag is now in the possession of thieves, they are going to think you are too smart for your own good.

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