If I am going to die, it is not going to be this year again

Today is proof number 2, if I am going to die, it is not going to be this year again.

I will start from the beginning, from when I began to set myself up for death to when it was time for me to die.

Staring at the Hijabi I saw while ascending the Ikeja Along bridge was too much of pleasure. Her sneakers were on point. Pairing sneakers with long skirts can be dicey and if it flops, you are going to come out an educated masquerade.

She also had a nicely shaped behind and the totality of her physical essence this morning was mesmerizing.

My mind drifted to my own skirt, black and short but with an annoying flaw. I had asked Joy to tack the split for me, it was going to tear if I was to jump Danfo. This girl tacked my skirt like a driver. Not only did she not use black, she used blue thread. My people, blue!

I was angry! Yes, I was in a rush but for Christ’s sake, just tell me skirt mending is not possible, ce fini. All in my head, these many thoughts.

All of a sudden beautiful Hijabi jolted backwards. Holy pant! My new sneakers already ruined. Christ!

Before I had the chance to utter a syllable, I saw the train pass. She had been pushed backwards by one of the traders by the rail.

I remember the last thoughts in my head just before that scene. It was of one of my clients. He doesn’t want to pay but he wants everything.

“Esther, add this for me”

“Esther, please do this one. Please add this feature”.

I knocked his head in my head. He was vexing me and boom, I was to die by train. Imagine the mess my body would make on the rail.