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Belinda Chiazor Writer and Filmmaker @ Middle Girl Produ...
city Lagos, Nigeria
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3600
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In Literature, Writing and Blogging 5 min read
Blood On Lekki Express-Way: Part 3
<p><br></p><p><br></p><p>Continued from Part 2…</p><p><br></p><p><br></p><p>…Not yet, he thought. Not until he had landed a secure job, and he could provide for her no matter how little.&nbsp;</p><p>For now, he'd savor these fleeting moments, hoping their connection would blossom into something more.</p><p>&nbsp;The saying “time flies when you’re having fun” had never been truer than that day. Hours flew by, and the night wore on and Emmanuel hadn’t even noticed, too intoxicated by the euphoria of food, drink and Folake’s company. But this was a big man’s daughter, and he had to take her home before her father sent out head hunters over her matter. </p><p>Glancing at his watch. "Time to get you home," he said, reluctantly. </p><p>Folake nodded, her smile hinting at a wonderful night. </p><p> As they drove through the quiet streets, Emmanuel couldn't help but steal glances at Folake, her beauty shining even in the dim light. He was always in awe of her, particularly the fact she thought him worthy of her company. <em>Na money remain. </em>He told himself. He had gone past his budget and it was only dawning on him, he didn’t have much left to survive for the remainder of the month. <em>He had to caution himself, if not he would not even see garri to drink at this rate, all because of woman.</em></p><p> </p><p>Gripping the steering wheel tightly, he turned his focus back to the road, his eyes fixed on the poorly lit Lekki-Epe Expressway. Soon they arrived at her home. </p><p> "Thanks for the outing," Folake said, her voice husky, as they approached her estate and as she beamed at him, it softened his regret over the evening’s extravagance.&nbsp;With a reciprocated smile, he stepped out of the car, and determined to show his chivalrous side, escorted her to her gate. The night air was filled with the sweet scent of blooming flowers alongside the distant hum of near-silent “big man” generators. He pecked her on her cheek awkwardly, and she let him. <em>Oh, how he couldn’t wait to make this big man pikin his! She would be the death of his pocket, but he didn’t mind.</em></p><p>“Another date tomorrow, right?” He asked. He was confident by this time the next day, he would be seated comfortably in his new office, with real cause to celebrate. The interview earlier in the day at a private owned company wasn’t nearly as important as the interview tomorrow. It had been a series of interviews the entire week, but he was most optimistic for the next day. One thing Ayo always did was come through for him, and if his friend assured him the job was good as his, he would take his friend’s word for it. </p><p> </p><p>Back on the expressway after dropping Folake off, Emmanuel Oyedele’s thoughts drifted back to tomorrow’s interview. Brand Manager at Nigerian Breweries – the prestige, the salary, the security. His present financial struggles would finally be over. The interview would be the one to end all others. It would be the end of his <em>waka waka</em>. He would finally be able to care better for his mother. He was her only child, all that she had left after losing her husband, his father. </p><p>The headlights of the car cast an eerie glow on the dark, winding road. The Lekki-Epe Expressway stretched before him like a serpent, its asphalt surface slick with the night's earlier rain. He accelerated, the speedometer needle quivering at 120 km/h. </p><p>Suddenly, a figure emerged from the shadows and in a split second… </p><p>…Emmanuel swerved the Benz, but it was too late. A sickening thud shook the car. His heart racing, he slammed on the brakes, skidding to a stop. </p><p>In the rearview mirror, he saw a crumpled form on the road. </p><p>Panic set in. </p><p>Emmanuel leapt out, his eyes scanning the deserted expressway. No witnesses. Only a few poorly lit traffic and billboard lights and the distant hum of Lagos nightlife. He approached the body, dread crawling up his spine. A young man lay sprawled on the ground as blood trickled from his forehead, pooling on the asphalt. Emmanuel's mind reeled. What had he done? </p><p>As he stood there, paralyzed, the man’s eyes flickered open. </p><p>"Help...me," he whispered. “Take me to a hospital, abeg.” </p><p>Emmanuel's head throbbed with a pounding headache as he looked at the crumpled heap of a man lying in the middle of the express. He touched his forehead and wondered at the dampness while his gaze dropped to his palm, where blood dripped from a gash. He spun around to face the car his friend had lent him, and the wreckage made his breath catch - the front windshield was smashed, glass scattered everywhere. Something was different this time. A sudden realization that had never happened before now. </p><p>Emmanuel felt compelled to walk back to the Benz and as he reached it, the reality of what had really transpired, dawned on him. He had struck his head when he collided with the stranger who had suddenly appeared in the middle of the expressway. The airbags had deployed, but the unexpectedness of the stranger's appearance, combined with the force of the impact, had been more severe than he initially realized. The car's collision with the young man had sent Emmanuel's head smashing into the windshield. His body had recoiled, his head snapping back, as the airbag deployed too late.&nbsp;</p><p>Emmanuel was dead. He had been dead all along. He stared wide-eyed at his own lifeless body, slumped over the steering wheel. </p><p> There was blood on Lekki Epe expressway and some of it belonged to him. The accident had claimed two lives that fateful night – his, and the life of the stranger who had appeared from nowhere.&nbsp;</p><p>He was now a ghost; and the events of earlier in the day had become a time loop Emmanuel Oyedele was stuck in, forever to relive his date with the woman he would never be with, hoping to attend an interview for a job he would never land. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The end. </p><p><br></p>
Blood On Lekki Express-Way: Part 3
By Belinda Chiazor
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Hi, it's Belinda, thanks for reading my insights.
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