SUNNY WEDNESDAYS: ATINUKE (Chapter Seven)

 

TEA

Pa Kem's Filling Station, the only existing one in the whole of Luwe Community, was indeed cashing out this season as everyone queued up to get fuel. The rate had once again increased and while banter and distasteful comments flew from the people who surrounded the station, no one has a choice but to buy.

"When will you change this car?"

Atinuke laughed, a light chuckle escaping her lips as her gaze landed on Bugo.

Bugo stood by the car, a toothpick hanging from the corner of her mouth. She shifted it back and forth, working it between her teeth with a focused expression, clearly trying to dislodge a stubborn piece of meat that had gotten stuck. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she twisted the toothpick, her lips pursing as if she were solving a quiet puzzle. After a moment, a flicker of satisfaction crossed her face as the meat finally came loose, and she relaxed, the toothpick still dangling from her mouth.

“Good evening to you too Bugo” Bugo hissed.

Although Atinuke was no longer offended by Bugo’s theatrics, she couldn't help but marvel at the woman’s audacity. There was something striking about the way Bugo expressed herself, as if no emotion, no thought, could ever be contained or hidden. It was as though her feelings were always on display, raw and unfiltered, for the world to see. 

The way she wore her moods, whether irritation or amusement, on her sleeve, without any care for the consequences, was both perplexing and strangely admirable.

Atinuke watched as Bugo gestured dramatically with her hands or rolled her eyes with such abandon that it seemed as if she were unaware of anyone else around her. There was no hesitation, no second-guessing, just pure, unrestrained emotion, spilling out in the most unapologetic way.

 Atinuke wondered how someone could be so bold, so free in their expression of feelings, as if they didn’t mind being vulnerable or exposed. In a world where so many were careful to hide or temper their emotions, 

She had often seen Bugo in church, though Bugo avoided her, she was pleased that more often than she had expected, Bugo was now a regular.

“How have you been Bugo, one of these days I would love to host you over at my place,”

Bugo shot a suspicious glare as she adjusted the machine to read in the purchased fuel price “what for”

“Haba can't I just have my church member come over for tea?”

Bugo laugh was so hysterical that people turned to find out what was going on before resuming their complaints on the poor government and hike in fuel prices.

“Wetin be this, is this oyinbo land, wetin I wan do with Milo and milk? Tea Ke”

Atinuke couldn't help but join in the laughter.

"Wetin dey happen for here Na, Na only you wan buy fuel today?" The elderly man’s voice was sharp, filled with annoyance, as he glared at Atinuke from behind the wheel of his old Peugeot Jeep. The vehicle, worn and faded from years of use, seemed to match his mood. His grizzled face, with deep lines from age and frustration, tightened as he watched her, clearly irritated by the delay. The Jeep itself rumbled slightly as he shifted in his seat, its engine a low growl beneath him. His eyes flicked between Atinuke and the fuel pump, waiting impatiently, clearly ready to move on with his day.

“I will pick you after Bible study” Atinuke said hurriedly as she drove out. Bugo smiled. 

This woman sha

ππππππ

How do you dress up for Tea?

Bugo hated playing dress up and that is what this woman wanted her to do.

"How many clothes dis woman tink say I get? Inno dey understand why pesin go dey invite pesin for tea."

She laughed out loud in her slightly messy one room apartment and smoothed the wrinkles at the hem of her flowery yellow gown that was both bright and faded in equal measure. The yellow was soft, almost pastel, with scattered white and orange flowers across the fabric. It was the kind of dress that felt cheerful, but also a little worn, as if it had been through a few too many washes. The fabric was light and breezy, perfect for warmer days, and though it had some creases at the hem, it still held a certain charm.

The dress was simple, with short sleeves that puffed slightly at the shoulders, and the skirt hit just above her knees. It wasn’t fancy by any means, but it fit her just right, comfortable and easy to move in. She ran her fingers over the fabric, smoothing out the wrinkles, knowing it was the best she could do. It wasn’t a dress she wore often, but when she did, it made her feel a little more put-together than usual.

The dress gave her body some subtle gentleness, she had grumbled when her childhood friend and lover has cajoled her to buy it few years ago. She smiled as she gave a small spin in front of her broken mirror, watching the yellow dress sway around her legs. The mirror hung crookedly by a rope she had tied to a nail in the door, its edges chipped and one corner cracked. It tilted slightly, but it still did the job. 

She leaned in a bit, smoothing the front of her dress and fixing a loose thread near the hem. The reflection wasn’t perfect, but it was enough for her to see that she looked presentable. With a quiet nod to herself, she stepped back, still smiling.

She smiled and mentally made a note to call Mummy Jide to make her cornrows during the weekend.

"Tea, here I come”