A Cold Winter Night

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It is past 5pm but one would think it is 8pm. We are waiting at the bus stop. I don’t want to bring my hand out of my glove to check the app on my phone again. It said the bus was coming in 7 minutes, that was 15 minutes ago. We are about eight persons waiting. We are all in large winter jackets with hats and hoods.

The weather report says it’s 15° below zero (-15°) with a wind feel of -25°. That means it’s extremely cold but because it’s windy it will feel colder. (So why not just say -25°?). I stopped at the store on my way from work to buy bread and eggs. I have planned my night – a hot bath, bread and eggs with scalding hot milo, Friday night movie (thriller preferably), on the couch, under the duvet. Thirty minutes earlier, I was on a bus heading home to a jollof rice dinner but decided I needed that bread and hot milo, badly, so I alighted at the store.

Everyone is trying their best to keep warm. A man is pacing back and forth, two people are smoking, four are drinking from cups, hot coffee I assume.  I was standing in the bus shed. I had tried sitting on the bench and even though I was wearing thermal wear under my jeans I could still feel the icy cold seat. I put my nylon bag of bread and eggs on the bench instead so I can tuck my hands into my pockets.

It snowed this morning and there was a bit of freezing rain during the day. The snow has started to melt and will turn to ice if the temperature drops any further.  It feels like I am standing in a brand new Thermocool deep freezer. I wriggle my fingers in my gloves, I can barely feel them. My right hand is clasped around my phone inside my pocket and it starts to vibrate. That’s true it rang earlier when I was in the first bus. The call can wait, for now; I am trying hard to keep warm and stay alive.

Why do they make snow look so beautiful on TV? When it turns to ice you can slip and break your hip. A woman jogs past us with her dog. Her dog is wearing a sweater of some sort. Oyibo no go kiiii person sha.

I see a man running towards the stop on the other side of the road, there is a bus coming. The driver drives off just as the runner gets to the stop. He hits the side of the bus yelling profanities. The bus comes to a stop at the other side of the road. It makes sense now – the bus driver was trying to beat the traffic light that is why he drove further, or so I thought. Running man sprints towards the bus as its front door opens, he gets to the door, it shuts and the driver drives off! The guy starts to yell again, ‘He was laughing at me, he was laughing at me, how can anyone do this, it’s freezing out here!!’ Poor guy.

There is a collective sigh of relief from my small group as we see the blue lights in the distance. Finally, the bus is coming.  We get in, it is 15 minutes to my stop.

I will fry the eggs with tomatoes and onions. Or maybe sardines? No, just salt I can’t be bothered with the effizi of chopping tomatoes and onions. Maybe I will drink 2 cups of milo at this rate. I am very cold. I’m starving. I should have bought the pack of 18 eggs instead of 12, its more economical. How much did I even pay for these eggs sef? Where is the receipt? I dropped it in the nylon bag. Wait . . . where is my nylon bag?

It is not on the seat next to me. It’s not on the floor of the bus. I put it down on the seat I can remember. And then it hit me – I didn’t pick it up from the seat in the bus shed!

Oh no!!! oh no!!! why???!!!

‘I am freezing, my blood has turned to ice’, I tell my husband as I walk through the door. I am shaking – hunger, anger, cold. It is warm inside the house but I still have my jacket, hat and gloves on. I can’t believe I forgot the nylon bag. I am so upset.

He walks to the kitchen, ‘Sorry, take off your jacket and sit down’, he says. ‘I called you twice, about an hour ago, thereabouts, when I was at the store. I wasn’t sure if we had eggs so I bought just one crate. I bought bread too. Do you want boiled or fried eggs?’

Kech

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