Mr Haruna

He had stopped for some rest quickly in front of some offices, he knew that he would not get any customers here, the people that worked here eh, even their drivers could probably afford drivers! Thankfully the rich appreciate good boli and ekpa and there was a woman slowly fanning the "make-shift grill". She looked up from the roasting plantains and her eyes were dark and blood-shot, one of the occupational hazards of roasting plantains for a living.
"Madam well done oh, how much u dey sell?" he inquired
"This one thirty naira, these two forty, this one fifty, groundnut ten-ten naira" she replied as she breifly touched the items as she mentioned them. She seemed a little weary, like she had repeated those lines one too many times.
"ok, give me the two forty one, and two groundnut"
she wrapped the plantains in newspaper and put them in a plastic bag alongside the clear bag full of groundnuts and gave him with a curt "thank you"

As soon as he relaxed on his motorcycle and began to eat the hot roasted plantains, a young woman walked briskly over to him.
"Abeg i wan go unilag u dey go?" she hurriedly asked. As he tried to finish chewing and re-wrap the plantain he had only taken a single bite of, she was already looking around for maybe another okada man.
"Ah, we go climb bridge, that one na three hundred and fifty naira" he told her. She began to rummage through her purse and retrieved several crumpled bills.
" This na two hundred and eighty naira, na wetin i get be this" she told him, with a questioning tone in her voice. would he take her? He looked at her face for the first time and saw the wet eyelashes and the shine in her eyes. Tears.
"Oya make we go"
she hitched up her skirt a little bit and boarded the motorcycle and they began to swiftly dodge in and out of traffic. Before she knew it they were on the bridge and in front of UNILAG. The wind had dried up her tears and had almost carried her troubles away. but not quite. Motorcycles were not allowed inside the campus so she paid him his money and got off.
Mr Haruna had been wondering all through the ride what could have been making the pretty girl cry and decided to offer some words of comfort. See unlike most Lagos workers he had not lived long enough in Lagos to become hardened like them.
"Yarinya, no dey cry oh, e get pesin weh their own trouble big pass your own, no worry e no dey cry, Allah Seriki!"
She smiled. Maybe there was hope after all.